The rain fell without mercy.
It washed over the stone courtyard like a punishment from the heavens themselves, heavy and relentless, turning blood into thin red streams that slipped between the cracks of the ancient tiles.
Liang Chen stood at the center of it all.
Once, this courtyard had been built for him.
Every stone placed under his command.
Every banner raised in his name.
Now, it had become his execution ground.
His white imperial robes were torn and soaked, no longer white, no longer imperial. Blood dripped steadily from his chest, where a blade still rested—buried deep, cruelly precise.
The pain was intense.
But it wasn't the pain that made his breathing slow.
It was the silence.
Around him, dozens of figures stood in a perfect circle. His disciples. His generals. His sworn brothers. People who had once knelt so deeply before him that their foreheads cracked against the stone.
Not one of them moved.
Not one of them looked ashamed.
Liang Chen lifted his gaze slowly.
His eyes were calm.
Too calm.
"So this is how it ends," he said softly, his voice barely rising above the sound of rain.
No one answered.
At the edge of the circle, a woman stepped forward.
She was dressed in black ceremonial robes, her face hidden behind a thin veil. Even so, Liang Chen recognized her immediately.
How could he not?
She was the woman he had loved for over three hundred years.
The woman he had raised from a weak cultivator into a queen of the cultivation world.
The woman he had trusted with his back on countless battlefields.
"Why?" Liang Chen asked, his tone not accusing—just curious.
The woman stopped a few steps away.
"Because you ruled for too long," she replied calmly. "The world changed. You didn't."
A faint smile appeared on Liang Chen's lips.
"Is that what they told you?"
She didn't deny it.
Instead, she lifted her hand slightly.
That was all it took.
The blade in Liang Chen's chest twisted.
Pain exploded through his body like fire tearing through dry wood. Blood rushed into his mouth, hot and metallic. He coughed, staining the rain-soaked ground even darker.
Several disciples flinched.
But they still didn't step back.
Liang Chen laughed.
The sound was hoarse, broken—but unmistakably his.
"For three centuries," he said, forcing the words out, "I unified sects, crushed demon realms, sealed ancient calamities… and this is the reward?"
One of the elders spoke, his voice trembling despite his hardened expression.
"An emperor does not fall, Your Majesty. He is replaced."
Liang Chen raised his head, eyes burning with quiet clarity.
"An emperor," he said slowly, "is replaced only by death."
The blade twisted again.
This time, Liang Chen felt his heart tear.
The rain washed everything away.
As darkness began to creep into his vision, one final thought surfaced in his mind—clearer than any enlightenment he had ever achieved.
Power does not create loyalty.
It exposes betrayal.
The world went black.
---
Liang Chen woke up choking.
Air burned his lungs as if he had been drowning. His body convulsed violently, and he rolled off a narrow bed, crashing onto a cold concrete floor.
Pain surged everywhere.
Not the refined pain of cultivation wounds—but something crude, weak, humiliating.
He gasped, clutching his chest.
No blade.
No spiritual energy.
No cultivation.
His eyes snapped open.
The ceiling above him was low, stained with water marks and cracks. A single flickering bulb hung loosely, swaying slightly.
This was not the imperial palace.
This was not any realm he recognized.
Memories slammed into his mind all at once.
A different life.
A different body.
A nineteen-year-old boy.
Name: Liang Chen.
Poor.
Fatherless.
Mocked.
Beaten regularly.
A useless nobody.
Liang Chen pushed himself upright, his hands shaking.
His body felt fragile—painfully fragile.
His spiritual sea… empty.
Gone.
Destroyed.
He clenched his fists so tightly his nails dug into his palms.
For a brief moment, silence filled the room.
Then—
A low, mechanical sound echoed inside his mind.
[Ding.]
Liang Chen froze.
His pupils constricted.
That voice…
It was not spiritual.
It was not divine.
It was artificial.
[Initializing Dominion Ascension System…]
Liang Chen inhaled sharply.
System?
The voice continued, cold and absolute.
[Host identity confirmed.]
[Past life detected: Supreme Martial Emperor.]
[Authority imprint… verified.]
The air in the small room seemed to tremble.
[Compatibility level: Perfect.]
Liang Chen's lips curved upward slowly.
"So," he murmured, "the heavens didn't discard me after all."
[Mission 001 activated.]
A translucent blue interface materialized before his eyes.
---
Mission 001: First Domination
Objective:
Publicly dominate your first enemy within 24 hours.
Conditions:
• The act must be witnessed.
• The enemy must acknowledge defeat.
Failure Penalty:
Permanent suppression of emotional restraint.
Reward:
Supreme Body Awakening — Stage 1.
---
Liang Chen stared at the words.
Dominate.
Not defeat.
Not survive.
Dominate.
A low chuckle escaped his throat.
"In my past life," he said quietly, "the world knelt without being asked."
Footsteps sounded outside the door.
Heavy. Confident. Familiar.
Mocking laughter followed.
Liang Chen's eyes sharpened.
The memories of this body surfaced again.
Those voices belonged to people he knew very well.
The door was kicked open.
Three young men stepped inside, all dressed in branded streetwear, their expressions full of disdain.
At the center stood Zhao Ming.
The richest student in the district.
And Liang Chen's most frequent tormentor.
"Well, look at this," Zhao Ming said, glancing around the room. "The trash is awake."
The others laughed.
Liang Chen remained silent.
Zhao Ming walked closer, stopping right in front of him.
"I heard you skipped work again," he continued. "Think you can avoid your debts by pretending to be sick?"
He leaned down, gripping Liang Chen's collar.
"Get up."
Liang Chen didn't move.
For a brief second, Zhao Ming frowned.
Then Liang Chen spoke.
"Release your hand."
The room went quiet.
Zhao Ming blinked, then burst into laughter.
"What did you just say?"
Liang Chen's gaze met his.
Cold.
Bottomless.
"Release your hand," he repeated.
Something in his eyes made Zhao Ming hesitate.
Just for a moment.
Then anger surged.
"Do you know who you're talking to?"
Liang Chen stood.
Despite his weak body, despite the pain, he stood straight.
"I know exactly who you are," he said calmly. "A stepping stone."
Zhao Ming's face twisted.
He swung his fist.
Liang Chen moved.
Not fast.
Not flashy.
Precise.
He stepped half a pace forward, his shoulder rotating just enough.
Zhao Ming's fist missed.
Liang Chen's palm struck Zhao Ming's chest.
There was a dull, hollow sound.
Zhao Ming flew backward, crashing into the wall.
The room froze.
The other two stared in disbelief.
Liang Chen flexed his fingers.
Weak.
Too weak.
But enough.
[Ding.]
[Combat dominance detected.]
[Supreme Body Awakening — Stage 1: Initiating.]
A violent heat surged through Liang Chen's body.
His bones cracked.
Muscles tightened.
Blood roared in his ears.
Pain exploded—then vanished.
Liang Chen exhaled slowly.
Zhao Ming struggled to stand, his face pale.
"What… what did you do?"
Liang Chen walked toward him.
Each step was steady.
Controlled.
"You came here to humiliate me," he said. "Now kneel."
Zhao Ming trembled.
The two others backed away instinctively.
"Y-you're crazy…"
Liang Chen grabbed Zhao Ming by the hair and slammed his head into the wall.
Once.
Twice.
Then he released him.
Zhao Ming collapsed.
Silence filled the room.
Liang Chen looked down at him.
"Tell them," he said softly.
Zhao Ming swallowed hard.
"I… I lost," he whispered.
[Mission 001 — Completed.]
[Reward granted.]
Liang Chen closed his eyes briefly.
Power surged again—deeper this time.
When he opened them, his smile was calm.
"This city," he murmured, "will kneel."
And this time—
No one would be allowed behind him.