Flames scorched the heavens, blood stained the scorched earth.
Corpses littered the grounds of Xuanji Mountain. This place, which had sheltered Shen Fu for centuries, had been utterly transformed into a living hell on earth.
“Go, run! Get out of here! They’ve lost their minds, all of them!” The senior disciple’s white robes were drenched in blood. With the last shred of his strength, he self-detonated his Golden Core to erect an unbreakable barrier around Shen Fu.
Shen Fu was shielded by a massive white orb of light, but the world he could see was collapsing and crumbling at terrifying speed—everything around him had become utterly foreign.
Ominous flames flickered, and his vision blurred with tears. Shen Fu pounded desperately against the edge of the barrier. He wanted to cry out one last time to his senior brother, but his throat had long since been ruined—the moment he opened his mouth, blood surged up from his windpipe.
His senior brother’s Golden Core was completely destroyed; he could no longer even grip the sword in his hand.
Shhk—
A blade gleaming with cold light pierced through his senior brother’s chest from behind. Hot blood sprayed across the barrier, completely blocking Shen Fu’s view.
“Senior brother! Senior brother!” Shen Fu’s eyes split with fury as his entire body trembled violently. But the barrier suddenly began to move, carrying him away at breakneck speed into the boundless night sky.
The scene before him rapidly shrank. As far as he could see, his senior brother’s corpse had its head viciously stomped on by a pair of boots embroidered with cloud patterns, grinding it into the filthy ground.
“Hahaha, heaven truly aids me! I never thought your Xuanji Mountain would see this day! Die! All of you, die! Not a single one of you will be left alive—tonight I will wipe Xuanji Mountain off the face of this world!”
The man laughed maniacally, his eyes tinged with bloodshot red, having completely lost himself in the slaughter.
Suddenly, the man’s expression darkened as he snapped his head up toward Shen Fu.
“And how did one slip away?” The man curled his lips and flung a short blade, sending it straight at Shen Fu.
The barrier protecting Shen Fu sensed the danger and immediately changed course, hurling him into a cave before gathering all its remaining power to seal the entrance.
A thunderous boom—the broken blade collided with the barrier. The massive surge of mana instantly blasted Shen Fu backward.
It felt as though every rib in his body had been shattered by the sheer impact. Sharp shards of bone pierced into his lung cavity, the pain so excruciating that Shen Fu couldn’t catch his breath.
The short blade, having failed its first strike, soared into the air and turned its edge toward the crack in the barrier—gathering all its mana for a full-force assault!
Just as the barrier was about to be breached, a figure flashed over and took the blade’s strike head-on.
“No—don’t!” Shen Fu scrambled forward, but his consciousness was already fading.
Agony spread from his lung cavity to his chest, like thousands of blades slicing through his flesh simultaneously. Darkness pressed in from all sides. Shen Fu’s mouth gaped wide, but no oxygen entered his body.
A suffocating wave crashed over him, dragging his fading consciousness deeper and deeper into the abyss.
Shen Fu’s eyes snapped open. Still shaken, he sat up straight.
His thin undergarments were soaked through with cold sweat, clinging unpleasantly to his skin.
Outside the window, everything was a vast expanse of white. Thick snow reflected an eerie silver glow under the moonlight—so bright it stung the eyes. But what Shen Fu saw was the image from his nightmare: blood staining the heavens.
It had been a long time since he’d had this nightmare. His heart was still pounding uncontrollably. Shen Fu took several deep breaths before he could barely calm it.
Perhaps it was because he was about to slay his enemies with his own hands that he’d been dreaming of the past lately.
Bang, bang, bang.
A short knock pulled Shen Fu back to reality from the lingering haze of his nightmare.
“Immortal Master, is it time for your medicine? This one will go fetch it for you.” A faint voice came from outside the door—it belonged to one of the only two remaining living people on Xuanji Mountain.
“No need,” Shen Fu said. “Did I not tell you that you’ll be released down the mountain tomorrow? There’s no need for you to keep watch tonight.”
The person outside seemed to sigh at his words. “Immortal Master’s health is worsening by the day. How could this one rest easy?”
Hearing this, Shen Fu’s mind drifted to something, and a trace of bewilderment finally appeared on his cold, handsome face.
Yes. His body was failing more and more. Who knew how much longer he could cling to life.
To take revenge, he had repeatedly defied the plot and secretly eliminated quite a few people. The principle he had upheld ever since he transmigrated—never going against the plot—had been broken time and time again by his own hand.
It was only fitting that he suffer the plot’s punishment.
Even so, Shen Fu had no regrets. Not in the slightest.
As long as he could kill them all, even if it cost him his life, he would not hesitate.
But… could he really hold on until then? Shen Fu himself didn’t know.
The next morning, heavy snow had fallen for three full hours without any sign of stopping. Each step sank past the knee into the thick snow. Shen Fu trudged unsteadily, escorting the last remaining disciple of the mountain to the front gate.
“You truly don’t plan to leave? Once the Ascension Platform opens, Xuanji Mountain will likely be razed to the ground.” The disciple pulled his sleeves together, looking up at the man on the steps with deep worry in his eyes.
Shen Fu’s white robes nearly blended into the snowstorm around him. Despite the heavy snowfall, he wore no fur cloak for warmth—only a thin moonlight-colored robe that looked far too flimsy for the weather. Yet Shen Fu seemed utterly oblivious to the bone-numbing cold, standing ramrod straight without even a shiver.
The young disciple rubbed his hands together, wishing he could curl himself into a ball. Watching Shen Fu, he could only marvel—this was, after all, a man who had survived when the entire Xuanji Mountain sect was wiped out. His strength was clearly not to be underestimated. As for himself, an ordinary person who couldn’t even break through to Foundation Establishment, he was destined never to walk the path of immortality.
As he was lost in thought, a hand with elegantly defined fingers suddenly appeared before him. The hand slowly opened to reveal a small embroidered pouch.
“Remember this: if you want to live once you leave here, don’t mention that you ever stayed on Xuanji Mountain. You may use whatever is in this pouch freely—it will at least ensure you never go hungry or cold for the rest of your life.”
Shen Fu spoke with a remarkably gentle voice, completely at odds with his cold, expressionless face. Though the disciple had heard it for years, he still couldn’t quite get used to it.
He accepted the weighty pouch, a jumble of emotions churning in his chest. “You should come down with me, Master. Otherwise, your health—”
Before he could finish, the disciple felt the space before him suddenly empty. He hastily looked up, but Shen Fu, who had been standing there just moments ago, had vanished without a trace, leaving only a trail of irregular footprints in the thick snow.
The disciple watched the tiny black dot moving rapidly into the distance, couldn’t help but sigh, stood for a few seconds, then turned and left.
Shen Fu moved swiftly. When he reached the temple entrance, he instinctively glanced back to confirm that there wasn’t a single living soul left on the mountain besides himself. Only then did he crouch low and slip into Qifang Hall.
“Damn, it’s freezing!” Shen Fu shuddered violently, completely shedding his earlier cold and aloof demeanor. He curled into a ball and muttered quietly, “I should’ve worn a coat instead of trying to play the aloof immortal. Nearly froze myself into an icicle.”
He stamped his feet to shake off the snow clinging to his boots, waited a moment to warm up, then walked to the offering table at the center of the hall.
Black memorial tablets stood in neat rows, a dark expanse like countless pitch-black eyes watching Shen Fu from the elevated platform.
Shen Fu walked over, lifted his robes, knelt before the tablets, and took out a bundle of incense to light.
“The last disciple has left too. This vast Xuanji Mountain finally has only me left.” Shen Fu spoke with a sense of loss, though it was unclear who he was speaking to.
“Back when we were broke, we used to joke that it would be nice if this immortal mountain were made of gold. Never thought you lot would actually leave me a mountain of gold.”
“But you hid it too well! If only I’d discovered it sooner.”
As he spoke, Shen Fu raised his hand and inserted the incense into the burner. “The Ascension Platform is complete. This is the only chance I have to avenge you all. I don’t know if it will succeed.”
“And if it doesn’t, that’s fine too. When I come down, you can keep taking care of me. All I do is eat and sleep—I don’t cost much.”
As if worried he might run out of money down there, Shen Fu grabbed a large handful of spirit money and lit it. “This is what I’ve saved up—don’t touch it carelessly. I already burned yesterday’s offering for you.”
Then, feeling regretful, he added, “Ah, forget it. Use it if you need to.”
In the empty hall, only Shen Fu’s voice echoed back at him, sounding profoundly desolate.
A cold wind swept through the hall, fanning the burning spirit money into bright flames that brought a brief moment of warmth—but it vanished in an instant, leaving only ashes and endless cold.
Shen Fu took one last look at the tablets before him, took a deep breath, then raised his hand to summon his sword. He rose and stepped out of the hall.
The heavy snowfall made sword flight somewhat more difficult, but Shen Fu didn’t even dare to conjure a barrier to shield himself from the snow.
He had no choice. The enemy he now faced was far too powerful—he had to use every shred of his spiritual energy with extreme caution, or he wouldn’t stand a chance at all.
After all, this was a male-oriented cultivation power fantasy novel where golden fingers were everywhere and everyone was a cheat user.
In the plot, anyone who was even remotely connected to the protagonist was a cheat user—either a heaven-defying genius, someone from a prestigious family, or at the very least, someone with extraordinary skills.
Of course, these impressive figures generally only had two paths: either they were awed by the protagonist and willingly became his lackey, or they were beaten down by the protagonist and then had an epiphany, willingly becoming his lackey.
In short, there was no talent freak the protagonist couldn’t kill, and no villain the protagonist Ji Yanzhi couldn’t handle.
Yet in this book, where a single brick could kill hundreds of talent freaks, Shen Fu had transmigrated into a nameless extra.
After completing his one and only task, Shen Fu was tested and found to be something seen once in a century—a person with no spiritual root at all.
In other words, he couldn’t cultivate at all, forever barred from the path of immortality.
Fortunately, he had sought refuge at Xuanji Mountain early on, using his charming face to trick everyone on the mountain into supporting him for these past few hundred years.
A hundred years passed like a fleeting white colt glimpsed through a crack—Shen Fu never imagined that a massacre would one day befall the Xuanji Mountain.
It wasn’t until his senior brother, the sect master, fell before him that Shen Fu suddenly remembered: the Immortal Alliance, mentioned only in passing in the original text, had sought several people to sacrifice in order to restart the Ascension Platform—and they had chosen his Xuanji Mountain.
Shen Fu had never been a man of grand ambitions, but Xuanji Mountain had treated him well. Even if it cost him his life, he had to avenge this.
Even as he approached the Ascension Platform, Shen Fu was still frantically memorizing sword techniques, afraid that he might suddenly need a phrase on the battlefield that he had just forgotten.
“Heaven and earth, dark and yellow, universe and vastness, the great spell to shatter heaven and destroy earth is the guiding sword technique for unleashing the immortal sword’s ultimate move. Its meaning is…” Shen Fu trailed off as he suddenly couldn’t recall the next line. He pulled a small notebook from his sleeve and glanced at it.
“Chapter One, Section One, Point One: Spiritual communion cultivation refers to the immortal sword’s inherent sentience, forged through the tempering of heaven and earth’s spiritual energy and the fusion of sun and moon essence.”
“Point Two: Unity of heaven and man…”
As Shen Fu focused intently on his memorization, the immortal sword beneath his feet suddenly trembled for no apparent reason.
“?” Shen Fu looked down in confusion and saw a wisp of green smoke emerge from the blade’s cold gleam, rapidly condensing into a ball of light.
Seeing this, Shen Fu’s eyes brightened for a moment. This orb of light was the sword spirit of his immortal sword—though ever since Shen Fu had obtained the blade, the spirit had been reluctant to speak with him.
Now that the sword spirit had appeared, Shen Fu felt somewhat comforted. He raised his hand to catch the orb, deeply moved: “I knew this fierce battle wouldn’t be mine alone, Golden Shining Invincible Overlord Ball. Thank goodness I have you by my side.”
The sword spirit, addressed as Golden Shining Invincible Overlord Ball, paused for a second before cursing in frustration: “Stop calling me that nonsense! That’s not my name! And stop reciting those sword techniques that even three-year-olds wouldn’t learn. I’m an immortal sword, not an idiot—I can move on my own even without you chanting.”
“Ah?” Shen Fu was puzzled for a few seconds. “But if I don’t recite the sword technique, how will you know when I want to unleash my ultimate move—the Heaven-Destroying Earth-Shattering Great Sword?”
“…” The sword spirit shot him a vicious glare, seemingly about to explode with rage. “Can your body even hold up? They’re about to become gods, and you’re just a mere mortal. Going there is nothing but a suicide mission. Who do you think you can kill when you can’t even memorize your sword techniques properly?!”
It was a merciless scolding—anyone else would have been hurt by it. But Shen Fu was the exception.
“Got to try anyway. What if it works? I’ve been condensing spiritual energy all these years, and besides, I have you with me, don’t I?”
After Shen Fu spoke, the sword spirit seemed to pause—whether speechless or something else, it dove back into the scabbard and ignored him.
The air fell silent again. Amid the swirling snow, Shen Fu calmly pulled out his little notebook and continued reviewing his sword techniques.
He arrived at the Ascension Platform just in time.
Golden light blazed atop the platform. Four towering golden pillars carved with coiled dragons rose into the clouds, channeling the spiritual energy of heaven and earth into the Ascension Platform. All the cultivators had gathered here—some standing tall, others hovering on flying swords—a vast sea of people nearly surrounding the platform in layers.
Every face wore a grave expression, for they were waiting—waiting for a divine miracle to descend, for a mortal to ascend to godhood and borrow divine power to stop this world-destroying snow calamity.
Shen Fu hid among the crowd, silently watching everything on the Ascension Platform.
No one on this continent had ascended to godhood in thousands of years, so today’s ceremony represented not only the end of this disaster but also the approach of this book’s grand finale.
As long as Ji Yanzhi—that colossal cheat user—stepped onto the Ascension Platform and completely lost contact with the mortal realm, Shen Fu could make his move.
His target was not the protagonist of this book, but rather the leader of the Immortal Alliance, the master of the protagonist Ji Yanzhi, and the most powerful cultivator in this book besides Ji Yanzhi himself—Yin Zhenyue.
Once Ji Yanzhi left, his chances of killing Yin Zhenyue would increase somewhat. But Shen Fu himself didn’t know exactly how far his cultivation had progressed over the years, so he could only pour all his mana into that one fatal strike.
With this thought, Shen Fu tightened his grip on the sword hilt and looked up toward the Ascension Platform.
There was clearly no barrier around the Ascension Platform, yet not a single flake of the swirling snow fell upon it—instead, the snowflakes dissolved and vanished into the air halfway down.
The platform had been enchanted, making it impossible to discern the figures clearly. Only two faint silhouettes could be seen. Gazing intently, one of them had fingers flying rapidly, seemingly forming hand seals.
Within moments, brilliant spiritual light blazed at the center of the Ascension Platform. A pillar of light shot straight through the dense clouds, tearing open a gaping rift.
The blizzard that had raged for three full months suddenly stopped. No—to be precise, all the snowflakes froze in place, suspended midair, no longer falling, hanging eerily in the sky. Were it not for the gasps of the surrounding crowd, Shen Fu might have suspected that time itself had been paused.
“Snow disaster! The snow disaster has really stopped! This is a miracle, a miracle! It seems Ji Yanzhi really is the chosen one!”
“Look, someone is ascending within that pillar of light—it’s Ji Yanzhi! Is he about to become a god?”
Hearing this, Shen Fu abruptly raised his head.
Around the dazzling pillar of light swirled rings of intricate, complex seals. Even standing far away just to gaze upon it, the immense pressure was suffocating—one could hardly imagine what it would be like to stand within it.
But…
There was no time to think about that. The moment Ji Yanzhi left, his opportunity had arrived.
Shen Fu’s eyes darkened. With a fierce motion, he drew his sword from its sheath.
With a clatter, the scabbard hit the ground. The snowflakes that had been suspended mid-air suddenly came pouring down all at once. Before anyone could react, a snow-white figure pierced through the curtain of snow like a blade, charging straight toward the Ascension Platform.
“Who is that?!”
“Someone dares to approach the Ascension Platform at a time like this? Are they out of their mind?!”
“Could it be an enemy of the Alliance Leader here to cause trouble? How laughable. Don’t they see who laid down this magic array? They’ll probably be crushed by its pressure before they even get inside.”
“No, no!!!! How—how did they get in!”
The moment the blade pierced the barrier, all noise was cast behind him. Shen Fu could no longer hear anything—his sole focus was on the Ascension Platform ahead.
A figure stood tall at the center of the platform. As if sensing the killing intent, the person slowly turned around.
Shen Fu furrowed his brow and coldly intoned: “Heaven and Earth, Dark and Yellow, Universe and Wilds, Reversing Heaven and Destroying Earth, Grand Exorcism Curse!”
As the sword technique left his lips, Shen Fu’s blade had already thrust toward the figure’s face. In that instant, the intangible spell was torn apart by the blade, revealing the person’s visage.
A pair of amber pupils met Shen Fu’s gaze directly through the cold gleam of the sword.
Shen Fu’s heart jolted. He wanted to pull back, but it was already too late.
Shhk—
The snow-white sword energy sank into a chest, instantly piercing through a heart.
The surroundings fell silent in an instant. The snow-covered ground was splattered with flying blood, staining it a horrifying red.
Excruciating pain shot through him. Shen Fu staggered backward, his long sword clattering to the ground with a deafening ring.
He looked down and saw his own heart blood dripping from the blade that ran through his chest, falling drop by drop onto the ground.
Shen Fu opened his mouth helplessly, but only a hoarse, rasping breath escaped.
He raised his head in agony. For some reason, his nose suddenly stung, and a pool of hot tears gathered at the corners of his eyes.
“Ji—Ji Yanzhi, you can’t do this to me. When we were kids, I—I saved you…”
Before he could finish, Shen Fu’s vision went black, and all life drained from him.
In the last second before his consciousness plunged into chaos, Shen Fu vaguely saw Ji Yanzhi reach a hand toward his chest.
This bastard—surely he wasn’t going to mutilate the corpse? I’m already dead; at least leave me in one piece, won’t you? Going down missing an arm or a leg would really be an ugly sight.
But more than that, what Shen Fu regretted was—how had his ultimate move not been unleashed?
If only he’d recited it faster. And that damn little Jinjin, he didn’t even come out to coordinate. Annoying.
It hurt so much. Why did it still hurt even after death? Shouldn’t he have lost all sensation by now?
Shen Fu lay still on the ground, feeling as if it were snowing again. The cold snowflakes landed on his face, melting into droplets that rolled down his cheeks, tickling him.
Shen Fu raised a hand to wipe them away, thinking to himself, can it stop snowing? It had been snowing when he first arrived here, and now if he had to be buried in snow even in death, that would be too miserable.
He really didn’t have the strength to wipe…
Wipe?
Wipe!!
Shen Fu shot upright with a start, staring at his own body in disbelief—the gaping hole in his chest was visibly healing at a speed one could see with the naked eye, and the magnificent Ascension Platform from moments ago had somehow transformed into a desolate stretch of wild grassland.
No! He had seen this scene somewhere before.