The altar of the Odyssey Dynasty stood atop the sacred mountain at the northernmost edge of the royal capital, perpetually shrouded in a faint golden glow yet radiating a suffocating chill. Constructed from ancient, jet-black monoliths, each stone was engraved with obscure, indecipherable runes. A faint aura of spiritual energy flowed between them—the dynasty's millennia-old legacy of fortune, yet also the shackles binding countless souls. At its center, Elena was bound by heavy chains of dark iron. Her thin white vestments fluttered in the mountain's bitter wind, her bare ankles and wrists raw and bleeding where the chains gnawed into her skin. Blood dripped from the chains onto the cold stone, instantly absorbed by the runes and transforming into faint red sparks that merged into the depths of the altar.
Her hair fell wildly over her shoulders, her face pale as parchment. Only her eyes—black as ink—burned with defiance and hatred, fixed intently on the man below the altar: Arthur, clad in silver armor, his posture rigidly upright. Arthur, the Imperial War God of the Odyssey Dynasty and the Patriarch who ruled the dynasty's ancestral sect. His features were handsome bordering on coldness. Dozens of dazzling gems were inlaid into his silver armor; sunlight reflecting off them cast a icy sheen, mirroring the chill in his gaze at that moment. In his hand, he held a sword of pure white, its blade engraved with the characters "Evil-Shattering." It was his personal weapon, the nightmare of countless demons and opponents.
"Elena, you should count yourself fortunate," Arthur's voice was deep and magnetic, yet utterly devoid of warmth, like a winter wind whipping past her ear. "As the soul substitute of the Holy Maiden, to forge the Wind-Still Pearl for the dynasty and safeguard the fortune of Odyssey—that is your honor."
Glory? Elena nearly laughed aloud, but only a hoarse sob escaped her throat. Glory meant watching her entire family slaughtered before her eyes? Glory meant being treated as a mere substitute, cast into the abyss of death by the very hands of those she once revered? Three years ago, Elena was still the eldest daughter of the Ailin family—Odyssey's most ancient feng shui lineage, guardians of the dynasty's dragon veins for generations. Yet overnight, they were branded "traitors who colluded with demons," and every member of the family perished without exception. That night, flames painted half the sky crimson. Her father's agonized screams, her mother's sobs, her younger brother's desperate cries—they still echoed relentlessly in her mind. She narrowly escaped death, only to be found by Arthur's men. They informed her that her face was an exact replica of the Saintess who had sacrificed herself a century ago, making her the perfect "Soul Substitute." Only she could refine the Wind-Still Pearl and mend the declining fortune of the dynasty.
"Arthur, you're lying." " Elena's voice was hoarse and barely audible, yet it carried a bone-chilling resolve. "My family has served loyally for generations, never betraying the kingdom to serve demons. It was you—your sect—who killed my family for selfish gain, then treated me as a pawn, as a sacrifice!"
Arthur's brow furrowed slightly, a fleeting, complex emotion flickering in his eyes too swiftly to grasp. After a moment's silence, his tone remained icy: "Further words are pointless. The Wind-Still Pearl concerns the dynasty's survival. Your sacrifice is inevitable." With that, he raised the Demon-Slaying Sword in his hand, its tip pointing toward the central recess of the altar. There lay a translucent pearl, faint wind patterns swirling within it—the unfinished Wind-Still Pearl awaiting consecration. As he moved, the runes on the altar began to flicker wildly. The crimson glow intensified, and a powerful suction surged from the depths of the altar, tugging at Elena's soul and causing her excruciating pain.
"I refuse to accept this!" Elena let out a shrill howl, struggling desperately. The black iron chains clanked loudly, yet she couldn't break free. She stared at Arthur's cold face and the expressionless disciples of the sect below the altar, her hatred growing like wild grass. She recalled her father's dying words: Lina, the people of the Aileen clan die rather than yield. If you survive this day, uncover the truth and avenge your family." His words were branded into her soul, sustaining her through three years of humiliation and agony.
The suction grew stronger. Elena's consciousness began to blur. Her body gradually turned transparent, her soul seemingly torn from her flesh and sucked into the Wind-Still Pearl. She could feel her life rapidly ebbing away, the shadow of death enveloping her. Just as her consciousness was about to vanish completely, a warm sensation suddenly touched her chest—it was the only memento her mother had left her: a small jade pendant engraved with a complex feng shui rune, the hereditary rune of the Ailin clan. Now, bathed in the crimson glow, the pendant suddenly erupted with a dazzling blue light. The blue radiance instantly enveloped Elena's body, countering the altar's suction.
"What is this?" Arthur's eyes flashed with astonishment. He hadn't expected Elena to possess such a powerful artifact. He immediately swung his sword, unleashing a white sword qi toward Elena, intending to shatter the blue light. Yet, the sword qi struck the blue light only to vanish like a stone sinking into the sea, instantly absorbed without leaving a trace.
Simultaneously, an ancient, obscure voice echoed within Elena's mind. It seemed to originate from primordial times, piercing through space and time to resonate directly within the depths of her soul. "I am the Sovereign of Ancient Feng Shui, slumbering for ten thousand years. Now, having encountered the inheritor, the forbidden arts shall awaken, and the Mandate of Heaven shall be reclaimed..." As the voice resounded, countless intricate runes and array diagrams flooded Elena's mind—ancient forbidden geomancy techniques, the long-lost inheritance of the Ailin clan.
A colossal force erupted from Elena's body, the blue light intensifying until it enveloped the entire altar. The mystical iron chains shattered instantly under this force, snapping apart into fragments scattered across the ground. Elena's body lost its transparency, gradually solidifying. Her hair transformed from black to silver-white, her eyes glowed with a faint blue light, and her aura underwent a profound transformation. From a frail woman incapable of lifting a finger, she became a cultivator possessing formidable power.
"Impossible!" Arthur's face twisted in horror. He stared fixedly at Elena, his eyes filled with shock and disbelief. "How could you awaken such immense power? You're nothing but a substitute!"
Elena slowly raised her head. Her silver-white hair danced in the cold wind, hatred nearly overflowing from her eyes. She looked at Arthur, a cold smile curling her lips. Her voice was no longer hoarse but carried a piercing chill that cut to the bone: "Arthur, did you think sacrificing me would save your dynasty, save your sect?" You are mistaken. From this day forward, I, Elena, am no longer anyone's substitute. I have come for vengeance. I will make you, and your entire sect, pay a terrible price for the death of my Ailene family!"
As her words fell, Elena swept her hand. A blue feng shui formation instantly unfolded beneath her feet. As the formation activated, a powerful spatial force erupted, enveloping her within its embrace. Arthur, seeing this, immediately swung his sword forward, attempting to stop her. Yet he was knocked back repeatedly by the force erupting from the array, a trickle of blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. He watched as Elena's figure gradually blurred within the blue light, finally vanishing from the altar. Only her cold words echoed across the summit of the Sacred Mountain: Arthur, we shall meet again soon. When we do, I shall sever your glory with my own hand and destroy everything you hold dear!"
After Elena vanished, the crimson glow on the altar gradually faded, and the runes settled back into stillness. The Wind-Still Pearl, its refinement incomplete, lost the power of its sacrifice. Dull and lifeless, it fell into its socket, stripped of its former spiritual energy. Arthur stood at the altar's center, his face dark and terrifying. He gripped the Demon-Slaying Sword so tightly his knuckles turned white. He knew he had let a dreadful enemy escape today—one capable of destroying the entire Odyssey Dynasty and the sect itself.
"Master, should we send pursuers?" a sect disciple approached cautiously.
Arthur shook his head, his gaze cold and unfathomable. "No need. Her newly awakened power is still unstable. Moreover, she carries the legacy of ancient feng shui forbidden arts. Pursuing her now would only invite our own demise." He paused before continuing, "Issue the order: seal off the entire dynasty. Conduct thorough investigations into all individuals connected to the Aileen family. Should Elena's whereabouts be discovered, report immediately. No unauthorized action is permitted. Additionally, accelerate the refinement of the Wind-Stabilizing Pearl. At any cost, restore the dynasty's fortune before she grows stronger."
"Yes, Sect Master!" The disciple responded respectfully before turning to leave.
Arthur stood alone atop the altar, gazing toward the direction Elena had vanished. His heart was filled with complex emotions. He recalled the first time he had seen Elena—then, she had been an innocent, carefree girl, her eyes clear and her smile radiant. She was a world apart from the woman now consumed by hatred. A thread of guilt tugged at his heart, but it was overshadowed by cold, unwavering resolve. In his eyes, the dynasty's destiny and the sect's glory far outweighed a single life, far outweighed a trivial pang of guilt.
At that moment, Elena found herself plunged into the pitch-black depths of an abyss. This was the Forbidden Abyss, where the Odyssey Dynasty discarded criminals and sacrificial offerings. It was filled with a chilling, sinister aura, teeming with powerful demons and traps. Ordinary cultivators who entered rarely survived. Yet Elena showed no fear. She floated mid-air, eyes closed, feeling the surging power within her body and organizing the ancient feng shui forbidden arts in her mind.
The ancient feng shui forbidden arts proved far more potent than she had imagined. Not only could they manipulate dragon veins and deploy formations, but they could also devour destiny and reshape immortal bones. Earlier at the altar, she had not only awakened the forbidden arts but also harnessed their power to reshape her own immortal bones. Her cultivation had instantly reached the Foundation Establishment realm—though not overwhelmingly powerful, it was sufficient for self-preservation within this Forbidden Abyss.
Elena slowly opened her eyes, the blue light still flickering within them. She knew the path to vengeance would be fraught with hardship and peril. Arthur was the empire's War God, his cultivation unfathomably deep, his sect's influence vast and brimming with elite warriors. She, however, was merely a newly awakened solitary cultivator, lacking any backing or faction. Seeking revenge felt as difficult as ascending to heaven. Yet she would not give up. The blood feud against her family and the humiliation she had endured left her no room for retreat.
She scanned her surroundings. Within the pitch-black abyss, the bloodcurdling howls of demons and monsters echoed, sending shivers down her spine. Elena took a deep breath and swept her hand forward. A blue formation unfolded around her, forming a solid barrier to ward off the surrounding Yin energy and demonic attacks. She knew her most urgent task now was to rapidly enhance her cultivation and master the art of Fengshui prohibitions. Only then would she gain the strength to confront Arthur and the sect.
Without further hesitation, Elena turned and strode toward the abyss's depths. Her figure, a faint blue speck in the pitch-black void, radiated unwavering resolve as she walked step by step along this path of vengeance, paved with conspiracy and slaughter. She did not know what dangers lay ahead on this path, nor what trials she would endure. But she knew this: no matter how arduous the journey, she would press forward relentlessly until the day her vengeance was fulfilled.