Cangyuan Realm, Eastern Wastelands.
Deep within the Burial Heaven Abyss stood the Heavenly Ruins Holy Temple.
Candle flames swayed in the wind, while crimson phosphorescent light bathed the entire hall in the eerie glow of a ghost realm. The atmosphere was utterly sinister.
The nine coiling-dragon stone pillars were covered in densely packed, ancient, and bizarre runes, as if frantically hinting that this place had once been incredibly badass.
Yet at this moment, beneath the faint glow of those runes, the hall was filled with a murderous aura that made one’s scalp prickle.
At the very top of the hall, atop nine steps, sat a completely black throne made of skulls.
Two heads were even set into the armrests…
Oh, no. Two skulls, to be precise. Ghostly light swirled within them, as though countless resentful souls were wailing inside.
The whole setup was so imposing—so outrageously stylish—that it practically screamed dominance.
Seated upon the throne was an old man.
At first glance, the man looked as though he had simply lived far too long. He was so old he seemed ready to crumble into dust.
His hair was gray and white, his face withered, and his skin covered in dark age spots and crisscrossing wrinkles.
He wore a loose black robe. The golden dragons that had once been embroidered so vividly along its hem had been worn down until even their own mothers would have failed to recognize them.
He was incredibly old.
So old he looked like he was about to kick the bucket at any moment.
Yet the thing that truly sent chills through one’s heart was not his nearly-dead appearance, but the other two people in the hall.
Two figures stood to the left and right beneath the steps. Demonic qi billowed around them, so dense that it was difficult to breathe.
The one on the left was broad-shouldered and powerfully built, as massive as a small mountain. In his hand, he carried a ghost-headed saber as wide as a door.
The blade radiated a murderous aura. One look at it was enough to tell that it had claimed plenty of lives.
The man on the right was tall and slender, with a pale, hairless face and rather handsome features. He had the look of a pretty young celebrity.
But his narrow eyes were filled with sinister malice. One glance from him was enough to make a chill run down one’s spine.
He held a pitch-black longsword in his hand. A trace of lightning power coursed through the blade like a swimming dragon.
Standing side by side, the two men emanated an immense and terrifying presence. Both of them were clearly peak Nascent Soul experts.
At this moment, their gazes were firmly fixed on the old man atop the throne, like starving wolves staring at a slab of fresh meat.
“Hall Master, who would have thought that the battle three hundred years ago would truly leave you this badly wounded? Our years of waiting were not in vain!”
The burly man’s voice echoed throughout the hall, shaking the runes on the coiling-dragon pillars three times.
He took a step forward and angled his ghost-headed saber toward the throne. Crimson spiritual light flowed across the blade, casting half his face in flickering shadow.
He looked exactly like a villainous final boss making his grand entrance.
“Hall Master, your lifespan is nearly exhausted, and less than one-tenth of your cultivation remains. It’s time for you to give up this position!”
The pale, hairless pretty boy picked up the conversation. His voice was not rough like the other man’s; instead, it carried a hint of feminine softness, like a poisonous snake flicking its tongue.
He lightly shook the longsword in his hand. The blade hummed, and a dragon’s roar seemed to rumble from within it, making the whole display look incredibly impressive.
“Rest assured. From now on, the Heavenly Ruins Holy Temple will be ruled by the two of us. We won’t allow it to decline.”
As he said this, a faint smile even appeared at the corner of his lips, as though he genuinely cared about the temple’s future.
But in the very next second, his expression darkened, and the killing intent in his eyes became impossible to conceal.
“As for you, hand over all your treasures like a sensible man. Then you can join the souls of the previous Hall Masters beneath the Nine Springs.”
The moment his voice fell, the auras of two peak Nascent Soul experts exploded simultaneously, and a terrifying pressure swept through the entire hall.
For a moment, the atmosphere grew taut, and even the air seemed to freeze.
It was obvious that these two men were plotting a rebellion. They intended to kill the old man and take his place.
From their words, it was not difficult to tell that these two scheming bastards had been preparing for this for more than a century.
After the great battle three hundred years ago, they had begun waiting.
Waiting for the old man on the throne to reach the end of his life.
Waiting for his cultivation to dissipate.
Waiting until he could no longer suppress the situation.
And today, they believed the time had finally come.
Faced with such a deadly situation, the old man on the throne remained seated from beginning to end, without saying a word.
He simply sat there, his cloudy old eyes lowered slightly, as though everything happening before him was beneath his notice.
His expression was calm and composed, steady as an old dog.
At least, that was how the two men opposite him saw it.
But at this very moment…
Beneath that ancient, withered shell, deep within a heart that had been beating for several thousand years, a brand-new soul was screaming wildly:
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”
“What the hell is going on?”
“Wasn’t I pulling an all-nighter writing? How did I close my eyes and open them again only to end up in this creepy place?”
“This hall, these candles, this suffocating killing intent, and this busted chair… Wait, why are there skulls all over this chair? Isn’t it uncomfortable to sit on?”
“No, no, no. Now isn’t the time to complain about the chair! Those two guys are pointing weapons at me! From the way they’re talking, it sounds like they’re about to cut out my kidneys—no, wait, they’re going to kill me!”
“This situation looks really bad!”
“Huh? What’s this…?”
Just as he stood there completely bewildered, his brain practically crashing, a flood of memories surged into his mind.
The Heavenly Ruins Holy Temple’s ninth Hall Master, Yin Tianjue. Once one of the Eastern Wastelands’ top experts.
How powerful had his cultivation been in the past?
The peak of the Divine Transformation Realm!
He had been just one step away from the Void Refinement Realm. Back then, he had been a truly legendary figure, shaking the entire world with his might.
Three hundred years ago, he had fought Zong Tian, the righteous path’s figurehead and the Holy Lord of the Void Sacred Land. The battle had ended with both sides suffering grievous injuries.
After that battle, the original owner’s cultivation began to decline irreversibly. No matter what methods he used, he could not stop it.
Three hundred years had passed, and his cultivation had plummeted from the peak of the Divine Transformation Realm all the way down to the middle stage of Foundation Establishment.
His already limited lifespan was now nearly exhausted as well.
As for the two aggressive men below, they were the Heavenly Ruins Holy Temple’s two Grand Protectors, Liu Qing and Shen Hao.
They had once been the strongest figures beneath the Hall Master. Their cultivation was already approaching the peak of the Nascent Soul Realm, and throughout the entire Eastern Wastelands, they were renowned as ruthless powerhouses.
After a short while, Yin Tianjue finally recovered from his shock, but he could not help feeling as though his head were about to split open.
“So… I really did transmigrate?”
“And now I’m the current Hall Master of the Heavenly Ruins Holy Temple?”
“Or rather, I’m an old man with barely any lifespan left, completely spent and on the verge of death? An old man who’s about to be hacked to death by his own subordinates?”
“Damn it! Other people transmigrate as peerless prodigies or supreme young geniuses. At worst, they get the standard trash-to-genius comeback story, complete with a three-year appointment and a Dragon King return.”
“But me? I transmigrated into an old man who’s about to be written out of the story! Who the hell can survive that?”
“And those two in front of me look incredibly strong! That aura, that pressure, that overwhelming presence—they obviously aren’t good people.”
“With these old arms and legs of mine, I probably can’t even run, let alone fight back.”
“I can’t believe I’m about to die the moment I transmigrate. That’s way too embarrassing for a transmigrator! If I really die like this, how am I supposed to show my face in the transmigrator community?”
“No, no, no! I’m a transmigrator! According to the laws of web novels, every transmigrator comes with a cheat!”
“Where’s my cheat? Where are you?”
“A system? An old grandpa? Some kind of heaven-defying bloodline?”
“Hey! Is anyone going to help me out here?”
“System! System, are you there?”
The surroundings were deathly quiet...
No system panel or status screen appeared, as he had imagined.
“Fuck, don’t tell me there really is no system? Could it be that I’m just plain unlucky—transported into the body of an old man on death’s door, only to be hacked to death by his own subordinates?”
“This melodramatic plot is way too damn brutal! Even when I used to write novels, I wouldn’t dare write something this outrageous!”