At the Azure Cloud Trial, six young people became friends over a cooking pot and swore, “For a thousand generations, we will remain the closest of friends.”
Later, they discovered that the sacred formation said to have protected the righteous path for a thousand years was actually a sacrificial furnace that devoured the gifted. When the names of all six appeared on the roster for the century’s grand sacrifice, they chose a path no one had ever taken: they would stand with neither the righteous nor the wicked, but only with what was right.
The price was steep. The poison doctor transformed into a butterfly, the body cultivator turned to stone, the formation master’s soul scattered, and the talisman master perished. At the final moment, the girl who always carried a pot offered herself as the sacrifice, erasing every trace and ushering in a new world without sacrifice.
Years later, spiritual qi revival swept through the cultivation world, and an age of prosperity arrived just as they had wished.
Five names were carved on the Heroes’ Stele. Only one sword immortal remained, wandering among snow-covered mountains, bewilderedly buying six portions of sweet rice cakes.
The deepest wound of all is when every reunion in the world has something to do with you, yet nothing to do with you.
