A sword seals the might of nine Heaven-Slaying strikes, and with it, nine curses that devour the heart.
A gourd holds the blood sacrificed by an entire clan, and brews within it the myriad flavors of mortal life.
I fell from the heavens and opened my eyes in the mortal world. Blood vengeance is my root, driving me to walk alone along this path to immortality, paved with bones. They say my sword is both hope and calamity. The day its seals are broken, even the God-Emperor will bow, and all immortals will turn to ash.
But with every seal I break, I grow colder. The smiles of my loved ones, the strong wine shared with my closest friend, the tears in the eyes of the woman I love… The warmth I once swore to protect with my life fades before absolute power, like embers in a snowstorm, blurred and cold.
Only when I finally reach the summit of the firmament and face the hand behind all these tragedies do I understand:
The greatest calamity in all the heavens is not the powerful enemy at the tip of my sword, but that I am gradually becoming the Heavenly Dao itself, its inescapable… mercilessness.
And so I ask the world one final question with my sword:
Is my path one of severing love, or embracing it?
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