The dawn bled crimson across the horizon.
Mist drifted like silk over the mountain ridges, wrapping the world in an ethereal silence broken only by the distant cries of spirit beasts. The mountains of the Azure Sky Sect stood tall—cold, proud, and ancient—bathed in hues of violet and gold.
Below them, a thousand disciples knelt on a vast training platform carved from celestial jade, their breaths synchronizing in unison as the aura of cultivation surged like an ocean tide.
And standing among them—wearing a simple, tattered robe—was Xiao Wang.
The villagers had whispered of the boy who returned from the Forbidden Forest alive. Some called him cursed. Others called him chosen.
But now, standing on the sacred ground of the sect that once rejected his family, he felt only one thing burning in his veins.
Resolve.
"This is where it begins," he whispered to himself, his voice calm but edged like a drawn sword.
"The path to devour the heavens."
The Azure Sky Sect's Gathering
A man in azure robes floated above the disciples, his long white beard fluttering. His eyes were sharp like blades—Elder Yun Shan, the overseer of the sect's initiation trials.
"Welcome, initiates of the Azure Sky Sect," his voice boomed, echoing through the peaks. "Today, you step onto the path of ascension. Many will falter. Some will die. But the worthy… will rise."
The air trembled with anticipation.
Xiao Wang's fingers tightened on the hilt of the black sword at his waist—the very blade that had devoured the beast's core, the one that whispered in the night.
"Blood calls to blood, master…"
The voice was faint, ethereal. Calm and ancient.
Like the whisper of a god who had seen eons.
"What do you want?" Xiao Wang murmured under his breath.
"To feed. To grow. To reclaim what was lost. And through you… I shall taste the skies again."
Xiao Wang's pupils narrowed. The sword's hunger pulsed in his hand like a heartbeat. He could feel it drinking faint traces of spiritual essence from the air, from the disciples nearby.
Yet none seemed to notice.
The First Trial — The Spirit Mirror Lake
Elder Yun Shan raised his hand, and the sky split open with light. A massive lake appeared behind him—its waters still as glass, reflecting the heavens. But beneath its surface, shadows writhed.
"This," the elder said, "is the Spirit Mirror Lake. Step into it, and it will reveal the truth of your heart. Only those who overcome their inner demons may proceed."
One by one, disciples stepped into the lake.
Some screamed.
Some were devoured by their reflections.
Others emerged trembling, reborn but broken.
When Xiao Wang's turn came, whispers rippled through the crowd.
"Isn't that the boy from the fallen village?"
"He has no spiritual root—how can he even stand here?"
"Maybe the sect just wants to watch him fail."
He ignored them.
He stepped barefoot into the lake.
And the world vanished.
Within the Lake — The Reflection of His Past
Darkness surrounded him. The air was heavy, thick with resentment and sorrow.
Then, before him, appeared his old village, bathed in flame.
Screams echoed.
Blood stained the earth.
His fiancée's laughter rang in the distance—mocking, cruel.
And beside her stood his former friend, holding the same sword that pierced his chest in his last life.
"You should have known your place, Xiao Wang," the reflection sneered.
"Trash like you doesn't deserve to touch the heavens."
Xiao Wang's hand trembled, but only for a moment.
Then, his eyes turned sharp—cold as death.
"You're not real," he said softly. "But your memory fuels me."
The reflection lunged forward, its blade shining with flame.
Xiao Wang raised his sword—and the Devouring Blade awakened.
A surge of black light exploded from his hand.
It devoured the fire, the illusion, the lake itself.
When the world cleared, Xiao Wang stood alone, the waters around him rippling with power.
Elder Yun Shan's eyes widened.
"The lake… it's empty," he muttered.
"No one has ever drained the Spirit Mirror Lake before…"
Whispers Among the Elders
Far above, on a floating platform, a group of elders watched with intrigue.
"That sword…" one said.
"It's not mortal. I felt it—something old, something divine."
Another elder frowned. "A cursed artifact, perhaps? Or a remnant of the Devouring Era?"
A third elder, cloaked in black, smirked. "No… I sense opportunity. Watch him. He may rise—or he may bring ruin."
The Second Trial — The Battle Platform
After the lake came the test of strength.
Hundreds of new disciples gathered on the jade arena.
Each was to fight until only the strongest remained.
"The top ten will enter the Inner Sect," announced Elder Yun Shan.
"The rest will remain outer disciples—or corpses."
The crowd roared.
Xiao Wang's turn came after three hours.
He stepped onto the platform, facing a broad-shouldered youth named Bai Cheng, a descendant of a noble family, known for his arrogance and powerful qi.
Bai Cheng smirked. "Step down, beggar. I won't stain my blade with someone from a peasant line."
Xiao Wang didn't answer.
When the gong struck, Bai Cheng charged—his spear wreathed in fire.
The ground shattered beneath his step. The audience gasped.
But Xiao Wang stood still.
He closed his eyes.
And then—
"Feed."
The sword's whisper echoed in his mind, low and calm.
A surge of black aura burst forth, coiling around him like smoke.
The spear struck—and shattered.
In a single motion, Xiao Wang slashed.
No light, no sound—just silence.
Then Bai Cheng screamed, clutching his chest as his qi was devoured, his spiritual core flickering like a dying flame.
The crowd fell silent.
Even the elders above exchanged wary looks.
Elder Yun Shan whispered, "That sword… defies the natural order."
After the Battle
As Bai Cheng collapsed, the sword pulsed again.
"You hesitate, master. Why not consume him entirely?"
"He's human," Xiao Wang said under his breath.
"So were those who killed you."
The voice chuckled softly, almost amused. "You're not ready. But soon, you will understand. Power demands sacrifice."
He sheathed the sword.
The sect disciples looked at him with both awe and fear.
The boy who had been called trash had just defeated one of the strongest young masters without taking a single step forward.
Nightfall — The Sword's Oath
That night, under the cold moonlight, Xiao Wang sat on the mountain cliff, gazing at the distant stars. The sword rested beside him, humming softly.
He could feel the essence of every battle, every fallen opponent, slowly fusing with his veins.
His aura now faintly glimmered with black and violet light—an omen of something neither human nor divine.
"Sword," he said quietly, "what are you?"
"A weapon. A curse. A god. Call me what you will. But our paths are bound now. When you ascend… I ascend."
"And if I fall?"
"Then the heavens fall with you."
The stars trembled as the sword's voice faded.
In that moment, Xiao Wang realized:
The blade was not just a weapon.
It was a will—ancient, hungry, and watching.
And in its silent hunger, he saw fragments of a forgotten world:
a shattered throne of stars, a blood-red moon, and a name whispered in divine tongues—
"Celestial Devourer."
The next morning, messengers arrived at the sect gates, carrying jade scrolls stamped with crimson wax.
Elder Yun Shan's face turned pale as he read one.
"The Blood Valley Sect declares open challenge to all Azure Sky disciples… and demands the head of a boy named Xiao Wang."
The sect went silent.
Dozens of disciples turned to stare at him.
The air grew thick.
And in that silence, the sword pulsed again.
"So it begins, my master."