The clouds parted above the ruins.
A golden ray pierced through, spilling across the wasteland as the world trembled in quiet awe. Birds scattered. Trees bent as if bowing. The entire region — once barren — now pulsed with spiritual vitality.
And at its heart stood Wang Chung.
His white hair fluttered gently, glowing faintly under the dawn light.
No aura escaped his body. No sound followed his steps.
Yet every cultivator within a thousand miles suddenly turned pale, their hearts skipping a beat.
Because in that silence — in that absolute stillness — they felt something greater than pressure.
Something that watched them back.
---
Far away, atop the Celestial Observatory of the Northern Alliance, a group of high elders were meditating when the sky above them dimmed.
"—What is this qi fluctuation? It's not demonic, nor divine…"
An elder frowned, opening his eyes. The golden spiritual flow of his body flickered in confusion.
Another elder's pupils constricted.
> "It's suppression. The heavens… have gone quiet."
For the first time in centuries, the Heaven's Will itself — that invisible consciousness that governed fate, life, and balance — ceased its murmur. The world's natural qi circulation stopped for three breaths.
Three eternal, suffocating breaths.
Then, just as suddenly, it resumed — but altered, darker, heavier.
---
Back in the ruins, Wang Chung gazed at the horizon.
His newly formed Extreme Golden Core pulsed like a silent star within his dantian, its surface covered in faint runes shaped like flowing rivers.
His mind was sharper than ever. He could feel the heartbeat of mountains, the sorrow of wind, the pulse of the earth beneath him.
And yet… deep within his soul, he could also feel eyes watching him.
> "So… the heavens noticed."
His lips curved slightly, neither smile nor sneer.
He took a step forward — and the world trembled.
---
Elsewhere — Temple of Silence
Hidden deep within the shifting sands of the Desert Realm, a colossal black temple floated mid-air, surrounded by a sea of stillness. Inside, ancient bells that had been silent for five hundred years began to toll one by one.
Gong… Gong… Gong…
Inside the main hall, a cloaked woman knelt before a shadowy throne.
Her voice was trembling.
> "Supreme Elder… the Seal of Heaven trembled. The Void patterns within the sky— they moved."
The shadow on the throne stirred.
Slowly, a hand emerged — pale as snow, slender as jade — and pointed toward the void.
> "He has awakened."
The woman's breath caught.
> "Do you mean… the Silent Sovereign's successor?"
> "No," the shadow said, voice low, ancient, and heavy with power. "He is not a successor. He is the mistake Heaven made."
---
At the same time – The Azure Moon Sect
In a mountain bathed in eternal moonlight, a young woman suddenly gasped as her meditation shattered. Her spirit sea erupted in turbulence, tears spilling down her cheeks for reasons she could not explain.
> "Why… does my soul tremble?" she whispered. "Who is this presence?"
Her master, a serene woman in violet robes, looked toward the horizon with a grave face.
> "That… is not a presence you should seek, child. It is the return of a calamity."
---
Wang Chung climbed the edge of a cliff, looking down at the valley below.
Streams of light flowed across the land like veins of gold — the qi flow he had unintentionally altered.
His every breath now affected the balance of Heaven and Earth.
He felt detached, distant, but not divine. The power inside him was pure and destructive — and alive.
A whisper echoed in his ears again.
> "Wang Chung… the path of silence demands sacrifice."
It was the voice of the masked man — or perhaps the memory he had left behind.
Wang Chung closed his eyes.
The wind carried his white hair upward, brushing his face gently.
> "Sacrifice? I already gave everything. My clan, my name, my humanity… if silence wants more, it will take only what remains."
As his words faded, a crimson mark appeared faintly on his forehead — a Heaven's Curse Seal forming from the backlash of the realm itself.
But instead of resisting, Wang Chung let it burn.
His eyes opened — golden and sharp.
> "Then let Heaven curse me."
He raised his hand.
With a soft gesture, the curse flared — and shattered like glass.
The wind stopped.
The world went mute again.
From that moment onward, the Heavens could no longer monitor him.
---
High above the mortal world, where the divine will of Heaven resided —
A fissure opened in the sky.
A cold voice thundered from the void:
> "Silence… dares to defy the order of creation."
Thunder rolled. Mountains split. Seas trembled.
But on Earth, the man responsible for it all stood quietly, untouched, his eyes calm as if the world's anger meant nothing.
He whispered,
> "You created rules to cage mortals. I'll create silence to cage you."
And with that vow, the air twisted around him.
The Silent Heaven Art reached its second stage — Eternal Muting — and a faint golden halo formed behind him, resembling a crown of silence.
---
From that day, every cultivator who entered meditation across the continent experienced the same strange phenomenon — for one instant, all their qi went still, and an unseen force brushed their souls, whispering a single phrase:
> "Do you hear the silence?"
Fear spread. Sects trembled. Old monsters reawakened.
Even the immortal domains stirred uneasily.
The heavens had noticed.
But so had the world.
---
And as the sun set, Wang Chung stood atop the mountain's edge, overlooking the distant lands where mortals and cultivators alike thrived, oblivious to the war slowly brewing between heaven and man.
His eyes softened slightly. Beneath that stoic calm, there was sorrow — the kind born from solitude.
> "This path… it's colder than death."
The wind howled across the peaks.
And in the distance, thunder rolled — but never reached him.
For where Wang Chung walked, no sound could follow.
---