The Eternal Flame Empire once stood above all — a kingdom forged through fire and blood, ruled by the benevolent yet powerful Emperor Xuan Tian and Empress Lian Hua. Their leadership brought an era of peace, prosperity, and might that stretched across continents. Under their reign, the empire became a beacon of strength. Even the wild tribes of the Northern Frost and the sea clans of the East bowed their heads in respect.
The people revered them. The heavens seemed to bless them. And for centuries, the empire flourished.
But even the brightest sun must set, and even the most unshakable throne... can fall.
From this noble lineage was born their first son — Xuan Long.
At twenty years old, Xuan Long stood tall and silent, his black robes always immaculate, his long raven hair often tied neatly with a silver clasp. His jade eyes, deep and calm, held a stillness that made people forget he was of royal blood. He was quiet, thoughtful, and kind-hearted.
Yet… there was one truth that haunted his every breath.
He possessed not a single drop of cultivation.
In a world where strength was everything — where even beggars sought spiritual awakening to gain a morsel of respect — Xuan Long was nothing more than a powerless mortal.
His younger twin brothers, barely ten, had already awakened to the 3rd Stage of Spirit Foundation. They sparred with palace instructors and glowed with fiery qi. His five-year-old sister could weave basic qi threads like ribbons in the air, giggling as they danced through the garden.
But Xuan Long?
He could do… nothing.
He tried. Gods knew how hard he tried. Every morning before sunrise, he sat in the meditation chamber, forcing his body into stillness, praying for even a whisper of energy. He consumed herbs, practiced breathing techniques, chanted from ancient scrolls until his throat went dry. Nothing ever changed.
And the world did not forgive weakness.
Nobles sneered.
Ministers whispered.
Servants giggled behind walls.
"The trash prince."
"How can the son of the emperor be so useless?"
"A disgrace to the royal bloodline."
Xuan Long heard it all. Every word, every glance, every smirk — like needles against his heart. He endured them in silence.
But if the world scorned him, his parents never did.
"Your path will come, Long'er," his mother would say gently, her voice soft like moonlight, fingers brushing his long hair as they sat in the jasmine garden. "Some flowers take longer to bloom."
"No matter what others say, you're my son. That's all that matters," his father would say with his hand on his shoulder, eyes full of warmth, not judgment.
Those words… were his anchor.
He cherished them. Just as he cherished his family.
He may have lacked cultivation, but not love.
He spent his days walking with his little sister among the blooming plum trees, her laughter echoing like music through the palace halls. He listened to his brothers argue over cultivation manuals and offered advice even when they didn't ask. He helped the imperial cooks pick herbs for the evening meals and read bedtime stories to his sister when the nights turned stormy.
For a boy born with no power — love was his strength.
But peace… is the most fragile illusion in this world.
For years, the emperor's council had been a nest of vipers. Ministers who once bowed in loyalty now whispered in shadows, their hearts poisoned by greed. They watched the emperor's legacy grow too powerful. They feared the people's love for the empress. And worst of all — they believed the throne should belong to someone… else.
All it took was the right moment. And the right betrayal.
That moment came on a moonless night.
A night that would forever be etched into Xuan Long's soul.
It began with a scream.
Then… the sky caught fire.
Explosions ripped through the palace walls, flames licking the heavens as enemy skyships descended like vultures. The banners of five rival kingdoms unfurled against the wind. Soldiers — thousands of them — flooded the capital, painting the streets red with blood.
The Eternal Flame Palace — once the symbol of power — became a slaughterhouse.
Xuan Long had no time to react.
He rushed toward the throne hall, his heart pounding. Smoke choked the air. Screams echoed like thunder. He stumbled through collapsing pillars, trying to find his family. The royal guards lay dead. The walls were slick with blood.
He saw his brothers — cornered and bleeding — calling his name.
"Brother! Help us!"
He ran. But he was too slow.
He saw his sister clutching her doll, hiding behind a torn tapestry, her eyes wide with fear.
"Big brother… please save me…"
He reached out. But he was too weak.
And then... the ministers came.
The very men who had once sworn loyalty to his father now wore twisted smiles as they stood among the corpses of guards and maids.
They approached the empress — his mother — and without a word, one slit her throat as she cradled her sons.
Xuan Long screamed.
They stabbed his twin brothers in the heart, one after another, as they clutched each other and cried.
He crawled forward, tears streaming down his face, screaming until his voice broke.
"STOP! PLEASE! TAKE ME INSTEAD!"
They laughed.
His little sister — the light of his world — was dragged by her hair before him. She reached out, voice trembling.
"Brother… don't cry…"
And then they killed her too.
His vision blurred. His world collapsed.
He tried to fight.
But what could a powerless prince do?
They broke his arms. His legs. His back.
One by one.
He heard every snap. Every crunch. Every scream.
Then they dragged him — shattered, bloodied, and barely alive — to the palace steps.
"Useless trash prince," one minister spat.
"Let this be your burial gift."
And they cast him off the edge — into the Lower Realm.
A cursed land where criminals, demons, and exiled beasts roamed freely. A place without light, without mercy.
He fell for what felt like eternity.
And when he finally landed… he didn't move.
He couldn't.
He lay there — bones broken, breath shallow, soul shattered. The taste of blood never left his mouth. The silence around him was deafening. Even the monsters didn't come close. They thought he was already dead.
And for three days…
Maybe he was.
Until…
The sky above cracked with thunder. The air stilled. The winds vanished.
Time… paused.
And then — a mechanical voice echoed through the void:
[DING!]
"Invincible Revenge System activated."
"User recognized: Xuan Long."
"Condition: Soul shattered. Body destroyed. Anger level: MAXIMUM."
"System fully unlocked: Devour. Reflect. Annihilate."
In that moment, something stirred.
Xuan Long's eyes snapped open — glowing blood red.
His body began to mend. Bones reformed. Skin healed. Muscles rippled with energy. But his face remained cold… expressionless.
Emotionless.
"A system… like in the novels I used to read…"
Memories he didn't recognize flowed in.
Of another life — on a planet called Earth. A world without qi, but filled with fantasy novels, where characters like him rose from nothing and slaughtered their enemies.
"So this world… truly wants me to become a demon."
He didn't smile. He didn't cry.
Only silence.
Then… a whisper. A promise.
"I will return."
"I will kill them all."
"And this world… will remember the name they mocked."
He looked up toward the sky.
"Xuan Long."