Qingxuan Planet's Black Wind Ridge reeks of iron and fear.
The Blood Slave Clan's compound clings to the mountain like a leech—mud huts crammed with emaciated bodies, iron chains scraping stone, and the ever-present shadow of the three elders: Yan Luo, Black Tooth, Blood Hand. Their black robes swirl with foul energy, a stench that mingles with the rot of unburied bodies. Here, "slave" is a death sentence—bred to toil, sacrificed for power, and discarded when their meager spiritual energy runs dry.
Fang Yan is the outcast even among outcasts.
Seventeen years old, lean and sharp as a broken blade, his frame honed by hunger and beatings. His hair is matted, his bare feet calloused, but it's his eyes that make the clan whisper "devil spawn"—cold, golden, and sharp enough to cut through the torchlight. He's felt the elders' greedy stares since he could walk, heard their mutters about "chaotic energy" and "divine blood" when they thought he wasn't listening.
His father, Fang Tian—a burly blacksmith with calloused hands and a gentle smile—had warned him. "They fear what they don't understand, Yan. Your blood isn't evil. It's… different."
His mother, Su Qingxue—her once-bright eyes dimmed by exhaustion, but warm when she touched him—had added, "Never let them break you. You're meant for more than this."
But "more" feels like a fantasy as Fang Yan lugs a bucket of water up the mountain path, his muscles screaming. A guard snarls, kicking his ribs. "Hurry, devil spawn! The elders need their medicine—spill a drop, and I'll feed you to the Blood Pond Demon!"
Fang Yan doesn't flinch. Pain is a familiar companion. But when the guard raises his whip, Fang Tian steps forward, his hammer hanging from his belt. "Leave him be. He's just a boy."
"The elders say his blood will grant us immortality," the guard sneers. "You should be grateful—your son's going to make us gods."
"Murder isn't gratitude," Su Qingxue says, stepping beside her husband. Her hand rests on Fang Yan's shoulder, warm and steady. "He's our son. Not a sacrifice."
The guard's face darkens. "Watch your tongue, woman! The elders' word is law. Defy them, and you'll join him in the pond."
Fang Yan's chest burns. Anger bubbles up—hot, wild, something he's suppressed his entire life. His golden eyes narrow, and the guard stumbles back, as if struck by an invisible force. The air crackles, and the bucket in Fang Yan's hand trembles.
"Let's go," Su Qingxue says, pulling him away. Her voice is urgent. "Before things get worse."
That night, Fang Yan sneaks out. He's heard the elders talk of the Blood Pond—a murky pit at the clan's heart, where they feed children to a demon for fleeting power. He needs to see it. To understand why they want him dead.
The compound is silent. Torches flicker, casting long shadows. Fang Yan creeps to the pond, gagging at the stench of rot and black smoke. The three elders stand in a circle, chanting, their hands glowing with foul energy.
"The chaotic blood is ripe," Elder Yan Luo rasps. "Three nights from now, at the full moon, we'll offer the boy. The demon will grant us immortality—and the Heavenly Dao will not stop us. It fears his blood as much as we do."
Elder Black Tooth cackles. "If his parents resist? We'll sacrifice them too. Their love is a weakness we'll exploit."
Fang Yan's blood runs cold. He turns to run, but his foot catches on a root. He falls, the sound echoing in the night.
The elders snap around. "Who's there?"
Fang Yan scrambles to his feet, but it's too late. The elders close in, their eyes blazing with rage. "The devil spawn heard everything!"
He bursts into the hut, slamming the door. "They're going to kill us! The elders—they're sacrificing me to the demon. And you too, if you fight!"
Fang Tian grabs his hammer. "Then we fight."
Su Qingxue's body glows with faint white light—something divine, something Fang Yan has never seen. Her hair floats around her like a halo. "We fight."
The door smashes open. The elders stand in the doorway, flanked by a horde of guards. "Su Qingxue," Yan Luo sneers. "A fallen celestial, hiding among slaves. Pathetic."
"I left the Heavenly Realm because I refused to bow to tyranny," she says, her light intensifying. "I thought I could protect my family here. I was wrong."
The guards charge. Fang Tian swings his hammer, smashing skulls. Su Qingxue sends waves of light, knocking back a dozen men. But there are too many. A guard stabs Fang Tian in the back.
"No!" Su Qingxue screams.
Fang Tian falls to his knees, blood pouring from his wound. He looks at Fang Yan, his eyes filled with love. "Run, Yan. Never bow to anyone. Your blood is stronger than Heaven itself."
He collapses.
"Father!"
Su Qingxue wraps her arms around Fang Yan, shielding him. She fights until Elder Yan Luo hurls a bolt of black energy at him—then she pushes him out of the way, taking the hit.
The energy pierces her chest. Her light fades. She falls, gasping. "Yan… remember. You are the blood of the fallen cosmos. The future of all that is free. Protect yourself… find your path… never let Heaven break you."
Her hand goes limp.
Fang Yan's world shatters.
Grief and rage explode from him—an inferno of chaotic energy that bursts from his body. His golden eyes glow brighter than the sun, his hair standing on end. The ground shakes, the air crackling with power. The hut's walls crumble, and the torches are snuffed out by a wave of black-and-gold force.
The guards and elders stumble back, terrified. "What is this?"
"You killed them," Fang Yan says, his voice deep and cold, nothing like a seventeen-year-old's. "You took everything."
He takes a step forward. A guard lunges—Fang Yan raises his hand, and the man disintegrates into ash. He grabs Elder Black Tooth by the throat, squeezing until his neck snaps. He slams Elder Blood Hand into the mountain, crushing his ribs. Elder Yan Luo tries to cast a spell—Fang Yan stares, and the elder's body explodes into blood and bone.
The remaining guards flee. Fang Yan falls to his knees beside his parents' bodies, sobbing. He stays until dawn, holding their hands, whispering goodbye.
When the sun rises, he stands. He picks up his father's hammer, slings it over his shoulder, and tucks a lock of his mother's hair into his pocket. The compound burns behind him—smoke curling into the sky, a funeral pyre for the family he lost.
He doesn't look back.
Vengeance burns in his chest. The Heavenly Dao. The Blood Pond Demon. Every soul that stands in his way. He will traverse every planet, every universe, and erase them all.
He is Fang Yan.
Chaos' first roar has been unleashed.
And the multiverse will tremble.