A hundred thousand years ago, he was the Haotian Grand Lord, ruler of the First Heaven and one step away from becoming a sage. Yet the woman he had loved for thirty thousand years shot him dead with a semi-divine weapon he had forged himself. With his dying breath, he used the great forbidden art "Seal the Mandate of Heaven," vanishing completely from the causal order. Everything returned to zero, and he began again from the start.
A hundred thousand years later, he rose anew from the lower realm. Silver hair, golden eyes, and a born Dao body: the former Haotian Grand Lord was now merely a mid-stage True Immortal. Yet one punch from him could cripple a peak Golden Immortal, and one stroke of his sword could shatter the remnant soul of the Dragon Emperor. Among his followers were a veteran of the Blood Fiend Gang who had lived nearly thirty thousand years, a Corpse Immortal who had transcended the Three Realms, the wielder of the Imperial Sword, who stood at the head of the Abyss's five great Sin Kings, and a loyal guardian who had evolved step by step from a snake into a true dragon. By his side were also two beloved Dao companions and three mischievous children.
But as he steadily climbed back to the summit, fragments of his past-life memories began to awaken. Where was the woman who had shot him with the "Final Whisper" in this life? Beneath the eternal seal of the Primordial Dragon Emperor Universe, fragments of the Martial God's soul from the previous kalpa slept. What kind of karma connected him to that Martial God, who shared his silver hair and golden eyes and was just as unwilling to yield?
Once, his eyes held only one person. Now they held his Dao companions, children, brothers, and friends. True strength is not measured by the height of one's cultivation. It is being able to choose tenderness even after seeing everything clearly, then taking the people by your side with you to that ultimate destination.
