Chapter 2: The Shattered Path: A God's Ascent Interrupted
Beneath the towering palace of the Dou Clan, where sunlight never reached and even echoes seemed reluctant to linger, a single chamber stood untouched by time. It was a place where only one man sat now—Dou Lin, patriarch of the Dou Clan, poised at the threshold of immortality.
His eyes were closed, his breath steady but deeper than any mortal's. Around him, countless runes shimmered in pale gold upon the stone floor, pulsing gently as if resonating with his very heartbeat. And in the silence of that grand chamber, something unseen began to stir—something vast.
Above ground, the clear night sky had shifted. What once shimmered with stars now churned with dark purple clouds edged with ominous crimson streaks. The air grew heavier, charged with latent power. Yet in the main palace, where the clan's celebratory banquet continued in full swing, no one noticed. Laughter still echoed across marble halls. Lanterns still flickered in the breeze. The servants carried on pouring wine.
Only the sentries stationed outside the cultivation sanctum realized what was truly happening. They felt it first: the bone-deep vibration in the earth, the oppressive wind rising from nowhere, the faint electric crackle as if lightning was about to strike.
One of them spoke quietly: "Patriarch Dou Lin... he must be stepping beyond Zhan Zi... Could it be—Zhan Du?" Their voices trembled at the name. Zhan Du —the realm of gods.
Yet deep within the sealed chamber, Dou Lin's reality was far removed from what the guards imagined. Inside his mind's spiritual sea, he stood amidst an endless expanse of blood-red waves. The sky above was dark, bruised with swirling black and crimson clouds. Silver streaks of light fought to pierce through the darkness but failed. His body ached with invisible strain, and sweat trickled down his brow. His brows furrowed as the immense energy tearing through his meridians threatened to shatter him from within. Floating upon those crimson waves, he saw golden and silver threads dancing in the sky—faint lines drawn by unseen hands. They wove in and out, connecting stars to the horizon, symbols of balance between chaos and order.
But the balance was breaking.
Suddenly, outside, the sky over the Dou Clan's mountain roared. The purple clouds gathered in a single massive vortex, swirling tighter and tighter, until a blood-red lightning bolt pierced down like the blade of an ancient god. That single strike slammed against the grand defensive formation encasing the cultivation sanctum. Forged by Dou Lin himself years ago, it was said to be unbreakable. Yet under the power of that blood-colored strike, it cracked like thin ice beneath a heavy foot.
The sound echoed like shattering glass across the mountain.
The guards leaped to attention. Weapons drawn, they rushed toward the chamber—but they were too late. Even as they approached, another force—a silent, invisible attack—followed the lightning. It was so fast that not even the elite guards could detect its path. It cut through air and stone alike, striking directly at Dou Lin's seated form.
Inside the chamber, Dou Lin's closed eyes snapped open. A trail of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth. His body shook violently as he fought to maintain control, spiritual energy still surging within him. But the damage was done.
Above ground, two of the fastest guards turned and sprinted back toward the palace, their faces pale with terror. One shouted over his shoulder: "Inform the Matriarch! Something's happened!" They dashed across rooftops, crossing courtyards in seconds, ignoring startled clan members along the way. Their footsteps echoed louder than any drumbeat.
Inside the grand hall, Lady Dou Xin sat beside her son, young Dou Xuan, who looked up curiously. But that moment of peace shattered as the two guards crashed through the doors, dropping to their knees before the dais.
"Matriarch Dou Xin!" one gasped. "The Patriarch… there's been an attack during his cultivation. The barrier is broken. We— we couldn't see the attacker!"
A hush fell over the entire hall. The Matriarch's eyes, calm and composed a moment ago, darkened like storm clouds. Without a word, she rose to her feet, her long sleeves fluttering like crimson flames.
Her brothers—Dou Huang, Dou Von, Dou Jin—were already moving, swords drawn. In perfect silence, the four of them left the hall, their steps echoing like thunder. As they exited the palace, the sky above had changed completely. The vortex of clouds had grown monstrous, streaked with living lightning. And then, as if the heavens themselves parted, a single figure stepped down from the sky.
His robe was black, trimmed with red gold. His face was sharp and cruel, eyes cold as frost. Each step he took in mid-air sent ripples through the fabric of space. The gathered guards below could hardly breathe as his voice rolled across the sky: "Old friend... so you really were attempting it. Ascending to Zhan Du without telling me? You knew... there is no one but I who can stand at the same height."
The name passed through trembling lips everywhere: Fing Shin. Dou Lin's old companion. Now his greatest enemy.
Lady Dou Xin's heart clenched with cold dread. For she knew: her husband, in the middle of his final step toward godhood, now stood most vulnerable. And Fing Shin... had chosen this moment to strike.
At that very moment, a terrifying pressure swept through the skies, rippling like a storm that could shatter hearts and minds. It was Fing Shin. With a single gesture, he summoned forth a glowing spear of pure energy—so potent that even before it struck, the very walls of the cultivation chamber around him cracked and splintered. The force emanating from his body was overwhelming, a manifestation of power that few in the world could hope to match.
As Fing Shin moved to strike Dou Lin, the air itself seemed to condense into an invisible weight. A crushing spatial pressure bore down upon Dou Lin, forcing him helplessly to his knees. Just as Fing Shin's spear hurtled toward its mark, aiming to finish Dou Lin in his most vulnerable state, three figures appeared in a blur of motion—Dou Huang, Dou Von, and Dou Jin, the brothers of Dou Xin.
With grim determination, they intercepted the deadly blow. Their combined defense barely held, but the resulting shockwave cracked the air around them, distorting the atmosphere within a ten-meter radius. Space itself trembled.
And yet Fing Shin only smirked. "Heh... Foolish brothers. How could you possibly hope to stop me?" Fing Shin's voice dripped with disdain. "Your cultivation realms will never reach my level." With a flick of his spear, he unleashed a burst of force that sent all three brothers flying backward, crashing against the far wall like broken leaves in a storm.
"If you truly wish to face me," Fing Shin declared coldly, his aura flaring like a rising sun, "first, contend with the two elders of my clan." At his words, two towering presences stepped forward from behind him—Fing Yan and Fing Muan. The crowd of onlookers from the Dou Clan shuddered in fear, recognizing these two legendary figures. Their reputations were second only to Fing Shin himself. Fing Yan had reached the 5th stage of the Zhan Zi realm, while Fing Muan stood at the 3rd stage. But Fing Shin... he was already at the terrifying 8th stage of Zhan Zi—an overwhelming difference.
Even Dou Xin, standing amidst the chaos, her face pale, whispered with trembling voice, "Fing Yan... Fing Muan..."
Her brothers' expressions darkened. No matter how hard they fought, they knew the bitter truth: their combined strength would not be enough. Dou Huang, Dou Von, and Dou Jin had each reached only the Zhan Xu-Zi level—a full stage beneath their adversaries. No amount of courage could bridge such a gap.
The three brothers glanced at one another. In silent agreement, they all bowed their heads at once. Then, Dou Huang, the eldest, sent a private mental message to his sister, his voice firm yet pained: "Dou Xin... You must leave. Now. If you stay, not only will we fall, but the future of our clan—Dou Xuan—will be lost. Take him and escape this place."
But Dou Xin hesitated, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Brother Dou Huang... But I can't just abandon you all... I must protect my husband as well..."
Dou Huang's voice sharpened. "Sister! Listen to me. We will buy you time. You must protect our future. You alone among us stand at the Zhan Tian realm—you have the power. And you carry our clan's final hope. Dou Xuan must live." Without allowing her to protest further, Dou Huang turned toward the guards nearby.
"Escort Lady Dou Xin and the Young Heir out of this palace. Ensure their safety at all costs!"
Their mission was clear. Even if the Dou Clan had to sacrifice everything, Dou Xin and the next generation must survive.