The Heavenly Emperor Returns

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The Primal Chaos Sea churned, a bottomless grave carved by endless war. Slaughter surged without pause. Death consumed without mercy.

Across the heavens and myriad realms, cultivators of immeasurable power stood transfixed, gazes locked on the unraveling tapestry of creation. They did not speak. They could not. Language failed before sorrow so vast.

Time passed.

"Emperor Huang... Emperor Ye... Tianjiao Ant... Elder Meng... the Emperor's son... the Double-Pupiled one…"

In the Eternal Immortal Domain, Wang Nixian's voice cracked from grief, his throat raw. Raising a jug, he drank deep, then spilled the remainder onto scorched earth.

"This cup… for you. For your world."

Such scenes unfolded in domain after domain.

"Riding wind with my sword, I toast a thousand cups and never fall drunk... I am the Wine Sword Immortal…"

In the Immortal Sword World, Jiujianxian watched heavenly reflections blur behind wine and tears. His voice was low, fractured.

"I still... cannot rest."

In the Supreme Saint King World—

"Slaughter them all. Every ancestor who placed selfishness above life must perish."

Yang Tianqi's voice burned with hatred. His eyes, locked on Ye Di, Huangdi, Pang Bo, and the vanishing figures of Tianjiao Ant and others, held only flame and fury.

"If I could reach that battlefield, I would die at their side without hesitation."

Fists clenched, he stood powerless beneath the weight of it all.

From Urban Immortality to Swallowing Void, from One Sword Alone to Futian, from Martial Saint to Fighting the Heavens, cultivators across the great realms wailed with helpless rage. Though steeped in power, they remained human—capable of grief, of fury, of heartbreak.

The Heavenly Golden List illuminated the skies above every realm, a cruel monument to sacrifice. If only the barrier of realms could be shattered, they would join the battle willingly, gladly, even unto death.

Atop Daluo Sacred Mountain in the Universe World, silence draped the heavens like mourning cloth. Yuan Ye, Xuan Ba, and Di Ji stood motionless, eyes tracking every flicker of carnage below.

Seated high upon the dark bird throne, Shen Lian's face revealed nothing. But the space around him trembled. Subtle glows traced the surface of his crystalline white hands.

A tremor. A ripple.

He was about to move.

Meanwhile, in Shenxu World, the Chaos Sea had become a graveyard soaked in Dao blood.

"Master, wait for us!"

Chilong and Mu Qing, torn and broken, charged headlong into the tempest, dragging shattered bodies and splintered Dao behind them.

"Cleanse it all! Burn the weirdness! Purge the rot!"

Jiu Daoyi led the last of his eight hundred sworn brothers into one final charge. Eyes leaking blood, they advanced through hell, each step marked by death.

When he turned back, none remained.

A broken laugh escaped him, too bitter to be called sane.

"Wait for me, brothers."

His roar split the chaos as he surged forward, burning his last strength to drag several Dao Ancestors into death alongside him.

A thunderous boom split the sea.

Jiu Daoyi fell. But he did not fall alone.

"I hate! I hate this fate!"

The Carrion beast howled, his anguish rising like wildfire. He had failed—never ascended to Immortal Emperor, never avenged the fallen. Dao Ancestors swarmed him.

He died screaming.

Tao collided. Unknown powers clashed.

Ye Yishui—son of Emperor Ye—reformed again and again, shattered each time anew. His sword, now an extension of his bleeding soul, carved through enemies without count. But his source frayed. His breath faltered.

Boom.

He hurled his imperial weapon—a bronze coffin—into the void, detonating its core. His body cracked apart, barely holding shape.

Yet he charged once more, killed again, and collapsed, vitality flickering like a dying star.

Above, Xiaosong soared, cradling Ye Yishui on his back. Blood poured freely. His flesh split. But he said nothing, as he had not spoken that day so long ago, when he fled with the dying Emperor Ye, Dao crippled, spirit crushed, his form twisted into a squirrel.

Now again, he carried the burden.

"Senior Brother... please stop..."

Ye Yishui wept as Xiaosong unraveled, fragment by fragment.

"I only want you to live... so the teacher's line doesn't end..."

Xiaosong's whisper came faint and slow. His body dissolved into light, his gaze lingering briefly on Ye Yishui, then turning toward Ye Di, far in the distance.

He vanished.

Komatsu was gone.

The innocent squirrel, eyes filled with devotion, heart brimming with light—adopted by Ye Di—ceased to exist.

"Brother Komatsu!!"

Ye Yishui howled, reaching for fading light that slipped through his fingers like sand.

A battered figure appeared—Ye Tong, Emperor Ye's eldest disciple.

He looked upon the field, saw Komatsu's remnants.

He erupted.

His Sun Body ignited, becoming a blinding conflagration that scorched the heavens before fading into silence.

"Gone! All gone! Hahahaha!!"

"Komatsu! Brother Ye! Wait for me!"

Ye Yishui laughed, face streaked in blood and despair, surged forward once more, killed a final foe—

And faded into light.

Across the sea of corpses, the Dog Emperor's howl cracked the sky.

His pain consumed reason. He morphed into a monstrous black beast and hurled himself toward the fallen.

But too late.

His body collapsed, shredded by chaotic winds.

"This emperor... is not willing!"

His last roar echoed across creation before dissolving into silence.

Then came the fall of the Cicada Emperor. The Ten Crown King. The Holy Ape.

Even those who transcended time itself—

The nameless quasi-Immortal Emperor from beyond the Boundary Sea. The Butcher. The Burial Master. The white-robed Jiang God King.

All died.

Every one.

Across all worlds, cultivators stood in stunned silence, watching legends fall one after another, never to rise again.

They were stars—bright, defiant, eternal. Even in death, they cast light across blood-drenched skies.

Clang~~

The Great Bell rang once more, its echo a balm to the sea of chaos.

"My life as Wu Shi... worthy of heaven and earth. When this day ends, let me return to dust, and disturb no more."

With those final words, Emperor Wu Shi burned into Dao light. Before departing, he sealed two Lu Jin-level Immortal Emperors in eternal silence.

Above, the vast purple bell shattered into dust.

Wu Shi was gone. Body destroyed. Dao extinguished.

And then she moved.

The one known as the Ruthless Empress of Nanling—the most talented and sorrowful of them all—unleashed her fury. Her magic surged, consuming three Immortal Emperors into a pocket void.

"I fight not for the past. Not for what may come. Only for this fleeting life."

She burned herself completely, turning her path into a vortex of annihilation.

Boom.

The three Emperors vanished into nothing.

So did she.

Only a tattered corner of white silk floated amidst the flames.

"I remain... alone."

Clad in white, Liu Shen gave a faint, serene smile. Her eyes found the final two enemies. She exhaled softly, then closed her eyes.

"Wait for me."

Her long blue hair lifted like banners in the wind. She ignited her Dao. She charged.

Twin bloodstained war spears pierced her. But before her enemies could mock their triumph, she seized them both by the skull.

"Come with me."

She smiled—gentle and terrifying.

Boom!!!

A final explosion lit the skies.

Liu Shen was gone.

So were her killers.

In the aftermath—

Only Ye Di and Huangdi remained on the shattered battlefield.

Everywhere else...

Silence.

Only the wind of Chaos whispered through the bones of the fallen, sweeping over a world already lost.

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