The battlefield lay silent beneath a bruised sky, drenched in the last breath of war. Ash floated
down like snow, settling on broken weapons and fallen warriors. Among the corpses, a figure
knelt — a swordsman whose blade had sung its final song.
Chen Xin's chest rose and fell slowly, each breath shallow, life ebbing like a dying flame.
His eyes were fixed on the horizon where the sun bled its last rays behind jagged mountains. The
war was over, but his mission was not.
"Protect the clan," he whispered, his voice cracked but unwavering.
The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan's banners fluttered weakly in the breeze, their colors
dulled by soot and blood. Chen Xin had been their shield and sword. Now, he was their last
hope.
A shadow loomed, a colossal spirit beast breaking through the smoke — its jaws snapping
close. Chen Xin's hand moved instinctively, but his strength was gone. He raised his sword once
more, the blade flashing faintly.
"This ends here," he murmured.
With one final strike, Chen Xin plunged his sword into the beast's throat, a final act of defiance.
The creature roared and collapsed, darkness swallowing it whole. But the effort drained Chen
Xin utterly.
As his vision blurred, memories flickered — faces of comrades, laughter long lost, the warmth of
home. His spirit strained against the weight of death.
And then — silence.
Far above, in the ethereal heights of the God Realm, Tang San stood before a council of radiant
deities. His face was calm, but his eyes bore the grief of a thousand battles.
"Chen Xin," he said quietly, "was not just a swordsman. He was a soul that refused to fade."
The gods murmured amongst themselves. The Goddess of Life shook her head. "His time has
come. Mortal souls do not return."
Tang San's gaze hardened. "I do not ask for return. I ask for trial. Let him earn the right to walk
once more, but on his own strength."
A long silence fell.
The God of Destruction smiled thinly. "A trial? Very well. Let the sword that died rise again
through its own fire."
Back in the vast Sea of Souls, a faint glimmer stirred — a single spark of sword intent, flickering
like a distant star.
Death was not the end. For Chen Xin, it was only the beginning.