The rain fell as if the heavens themselves were weeping blood.
The village of Lin Jia Tsun, nestled at the furthest reaches of the Yun Province bordering the Black Woods, had not witnessed such a day in two hundred years. The sky was as black as ink—no moon, no stars, only heavy clouds groaning under the weight of something far greater than themselves. The rain was no ordinary water; it was ashen and viscous, carrying the pungent scent of burnt iron and decaying flowers. Each drop that struck the earth hissed faintly, as if dissolving the very soil.
Lin Xuan stood at the edge of the southern hill, his thin frame trembling beneath a tattered cloak. He was sixteen years old, his long black hair matted and clinging to his pale cheeks. His narrow eyes flickered with a stubborn brilliance that seemed ill-suited for a boy labeled "talentless." In his right hand, he gripped an old wooden sword, its hilt smoothed by years of use. In his left, he held a small, cracked porcelain jar containing a few "Blue Spirit Grass" pills he had stolen from the Outer Sect's fields three days prior.
"Today... I will break the barrier," he whispered to himself, his voice swallowed by the howling wind.
Since the age of eight, he had attempted to temper his body according to the "First Body Refining Method" practiced by the villagers. Nine layers. Only nine layers stood between a commoner and becoming an "External Practitioner." But his body... his body was different. It held no Qi. Whenever he attempted to draw spiritual energy from heaven and earth, it leaked from his pores like water through a torn fishing net. The villagers called him "The Erased Body." Children pelted him with stones. Even his only dog had starved to death because Xuan couldn't hunt a single rabbit.
But he never surrendered.
On cold nights, he would sit beneath the dead willow tree behind the village, reading the only ancient book his father had left him before vanishing into the mountains ten years ago. The Record of the Eternal Heavenly Wanderer. It was a single volume with yellowed pages and characters that blurred if stared at for too long. It contained no clear martial techniques, only questions:
> "What makes the sky 'Heaven' if it contains an abyss?"
> "If the body cannot hold Qi... what if the body itself is the abyss?"
>
Xuan did not understand. But he memorized every word.
Today, on this night of black rain, he decided to try something new. He had heard from a traveling merchant two weeks ago that if Blue Spirit Grass were soaked in the blood of a Lesser Wild Dragon, it could open the "Dark Channel" in an Erased Body. He hadn't found a dragon, but he had found a wounded wild wolf in the forest. He slaughtered it. He drank its warm blood. Now he stood here, jar in hand, the rain washing the gore from his face.
Sitting beneath the dead willow, he pulled out a small knife and sliced his left palm. The blood flowed black, not red. Strange. But he didn't care. He dropped the blue pills into the jar, mixed them with his blood, and drank it in one gulp.
The pain was instantaneous.
It felt as if a thousand needles were piercing his bones. As if a giant hand were crushing his heart. He fell to his knees as the rain lashed against him. He saw... he saw things.
He saw a nine-layered heaven, each layer groaning under the weight of massive black chains. He saw dead dragons floating in a sea of shattered stars. He saw himself, a child, standing before a colossal gate inscribed with ancient script: "The Eternal Abyss."
And the gate was smiling at him.
"You... have returned," a woman's voice—delicate, ancient—echoed inside his head.
Then, the Qi exploded.
For the first time in his life, he felt spiritual energy enter his body. But it wasn't blue as the books described. It was black. Pitch black, like an endless night. It surged through his veins, filled his dead channels, and then... it was swallowed. It was as if his body were a hungry mouth. It absorbed the Qi to the last drop, then craved more.
Xuan screamed. A long, broken cry that merged with the wailing wind.
At that exact moment, lightning exploded over the village.
It wasn't ordinary lightning. It was black, cleaving the sky like a giant sword. From the point of impact, something descended.
Something alive.
It resembled a bird, but it was not. Its wings were made of black fire; its eyes were as red as blood; its body was composed of flickering shadows. A "Demonic Ash Bird," a beast of the Third Stage of Body Refining, appearing only on nights of calamity. It fed on souls, not flesh.
It landed in the center of the village.
The screaming began instantly.
"The beast! The beast has come!"
"Mother! Save me!"
Xuan stood up, his legs shaking, yet he felt a new strength. The First Layer of Body Refining. He had succeeded. Finally. But the joy did not last.
He ran toward the village.
Houses were burning. The black fire devoured thatch and wood with terrifying speed. In the main square stood the Demonic Bird, flapping its wings. In its talons was a young girl, the daughter of his neighbor Lin Ming, no older than eight.
Xuan didn't think. He lunged.
"Let her go!"
His voice was weak, but it carried something new. The black Qi flowed from his sliced palm, shaping itself into a short spectral sword, black and pulsing like a living heart.
The Demonic Bird turned. Its red eyes narrowed.
"A strange... creature," the beast's voice echoed in their minds, cold and ancient.
It beat its wing.
A wave of black fire erupted toward Xuan. It should have incinerated him. But the black Qi in his body... it absorbed it. It drank the fire and converted it into power. He felt his frame grow, his muscles expand, his bones harden.
He leapt.
The spectral sword severed the bird's wing.
Black blood sprayed.
The beast shrieked—a sound that made the mountains tremble. It tossed the girl aside and focused all its fury on Xuan.
A battle began that no one in the village could believe: the "Erased" boy was fighting.
Xuan moved with a speed he had never known. Every blow he took, his body absorbed, turning it into strength. It was as if he wasn't fighting... he was eating. The bird struck with its talons, burned him with its fire, but every injury only made him stronger.
In the tenth minute, Xuan leapt onto the beast's head and drove the spectral sword into its right eye.
The head exploded.
The bird fell, its body turning into black ash that dissolved in the rain.
The village fell silent. The survivors looked at him as if he were a demon.
Lin Xuan stood amidst the ash, gasping for air, his body covered in the beast's blood and his own. The wound on his hand had healed. Completely. As if it had never been there.
But he felt it. The thing inside his chest. The little abyss. It was smiling. It was feeding. It wanted more.
From afar, atop the northern mountain, three figures stood in long black cloaks, wearing masks of white wood.
"That is the vessel," said the one in the middle, his voice like the rustle of dead leaves.
"The blood awakens. The abyss opens."
"But the village... must be erased," the third said.
The first raised his hand. In his palm sat a small ball of black fire.
"Let him flee. Fugitives are better. They grow. They become stronger. And then... we take him."
He threw the ball.
It exploded in the sky above the village.
A new rain of black ash fell. Stronger. Hotter. The remaining houses were consumed.
The people wailed.
Xuan ran. He hoisted the little girl onto his back and sprinted toward the forest. Behind him, the village turned into a sea of black flames.
He did not look back.
But he heard the voice in his head again. The voice of the ancient woman.
"Welcome back... Lord of the Eternal Abyss."
"This time... no one shall kill you."
The rain continued.
And the boy once called "Erased" began to run toward a world no one yet knew.