The Return to the Ruins After a Thousand Years

Mo Yuan had died nine hundred and ninety-nine times.

Every time he died, his consciousness was dragged back to the year he turned sixteen. He had founded the greatest alliance under heaven, only to be betrayed by those closest to him. With the silver tongue of a mere scholar, he had talked masters of the Nine Realms to death, yet could not save the life of a woman who brewed wine. He had even gone completely mad, turning the entire martial world into a dark farce. Across nine hundred years of reincarnation, he had seen every crease in the human heart and replayed the game laid out by the Heavenly Dao countless times.

Now came his thousandth life.

He knew the script by heart: the nine great sects ruled the martial world with the Stone of the Heavenly Dao, calling themselves the righteous path when they were in fact the descendants of those responsible for destroying the ancient civilization of the Ruins Realm. Mo Yuan would enter with the coldest of expressions and set the grandest of traps at the lowest possible cost, exposing the secrets of the nine realm masters one by one, until they knelt before their patriarch's memorial tablet and realized that the glory they had worshipped for a thousand years was nothing but the dregs of a lie.

But in his thousandth life, the karma accumulated across nine hundred incarnations began to turn against him. Grudges from past lives, unfinished obsessions, and those he had once failed all broke into what he had thought would be an endgame without a single miscalculation. When the guardian god of the Ruins Realm descended and the whole world stood against him, Mo Yuan faced the strongest attack from the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths and merely said,

“I've seen the same move nine hundred and ninety-nine times. Do you really want to try it again?”

There is no true dead end in this world, unless he chooses never to wake again.