Some say the Fire Mulberry Forest is in Fire Province, not Sin Province—you must be mistaken. In the earliest records, many passages clearly state that the Fire Mulberry Forest was indeed in Sin Province. If you don’t believe it, you can check the original texts. There was only one instance of a typo during that period, but everyone surely knew it was meant to refer to the land of the Fire Nation in Sin Province.
The world fell silent as Shi Hao stood alone.
Was it all over? The war between the two realms had come to a temporary halt.
Yet, those who had perished, those who had parted—gone forever—left behind a lifetime of regret and sorrow. Shi Hao remained silent, his heart heavy.
**Boom!**
The Abyss, already cracked and burning, was now a crimson sea of rules, boiling with the flames of karma, severing the two realms.
Within it, chants of scriptures echoed, explosions resounded, and the clamor of battle—the clashing of weapons and the roars of warriors—filled the air.
Shi Hao was jolted awake. He snapped his head up, staring ahead. Amid the blood-red sea of order, the Primordial Imperial City shattered, engulfed in raging flames.
And there, seated in meditation, was a faint figure reciting sacred scriptures. Its form grew increasingly translucent until it vanished completely.
The last surviving king of the Seven Kings had also departed—his flesh turned to nothingness, his soul extinguished. It was he who had detonated this place, causing the Primordial Imperial City to collapse and the Abyss to explode, achieving the final act of suppression.
The time granted was not long—perhaps only a few centuries—before the sea of laws would dissipate. This was the last ounce of strength he could muster.
The clamor of battle, the thunder of weapons, the deafening war cries—
These were the undying spirits of the Primordial Imperial City, howling and roaring, carrying the glory of the past, looking back amidst the flames before vanishing into oblivion.
The Primordial Imperial City was no more.
**”Our kin… all dead.”**
On the walls of Imperial Pass, a group of children wailed. This was the last sight they beheld—the ancient city that had nurtured them now in ruins, their loved ones fallen in battle.
From ancient times to the present, this city had stood at the forefront, guarding the borderlands. Now, it burned to ashes, vanishing in glory.
**”The city stands with its people; the city falls with its people.”**
Those warriors, those families, had fulfilled their final vow—their souls returned to the battlefield, their heroic blood staining the broken city.
Shi Hao watched it all. He suppressed his grief, his gaze turning cold and sharp. The distant Fire Mulberry Forest, the fallen Primordial Imperial City—none of it weighed him down. Instead, it ignited an unyielding fighting spirit within him.
**”I must grow stronger!”**
This was the cry of his soul. He would rise to greater heights, soaring like the Kun Peng, breaking through the heavens.
A sigh, weary and exhausted, echoed from beneath the Abyss. Amid the crimson runic flames, the last king dissipated.
Nothing remained. The era of the Kings had ended—gone forever.
This was the close of an epoch.
Once glorious, once radiant.
In the past, a group of prodigious heroes had dwelled in the Primordial Imperial City, crowned as kings for their merits, their brilliance revered by all races.
But time flowed on, and the ages turned to smoke. These great lineages dimmed, one after another, until they vanished.
The heroes of old had all fallen.
**”The end of an era!”**
**”I will become a king!”**
Shi Hao roared. It was not arrogance but conviction—a battle cry laced with killing intent.
Everyone knew what he meant. His path to kingship would be forged in the ruins, carved through the slaughter of enemies.
The once-great clans had declined. The descendants of the kings were now scattered, their glory long faded, many branded as descendants of sin, their halos shattered.
Shi Hao’s roar was his fury, his refusal to yield, his ambition to swallow mountains and rivers.
He would not only slay his enemies but also reclaim their honor, washing away the shame of the “sinful blood.” Those responsible would pay.
How could the descendants of those who had once guarded this realm, who had achieved such great deeds, be reduced to a lineage of sin?
This was a grave injustice—one that must be corrected.
Shi Hao walked toward Imperial Pass, stumbling as weakness wracked his body. The recent battle had drained him, even though he had borrowed power through the *Heaven Transformation, Self-Existence Great Art*.
Truly, the *Heaven Transformation, Self-Existence Great Art* defied the heavens!
Even now, Shi Hao pondered—what kind of secret art was this? To borrow another’s power and manifest it in the present—it was beyond comprehension!
Transcending time, transcending space, attaining true freedom, wielding invincible techniques—it was the pinnacle of defiance!
**Whoosh!**
A beam of light descended from Imperial Pass, enveloping Shi Hao and pulling him into the city.
Many feared for his safety. With that drop of blood now gone, what if the Immortal Kings went mad and attacked again? Shi Hao would be in grave danger.
As he appeared in the city, a crowd rushed toward him—youngsters cheering and shouting.
Tuo Ba, Cao Yusheng, and others lifted him high, roaring in triumph. This battle had been grueling, terrifying, yet they had held back an Immortal King—a feat worthy of legend.
Shi Hao was set down, and many embraced him fiercely.
Even Qing Yi and the Witch, who usually clashed, set aside their rivalry, embracing him without hesitation.
Yue Chan stood nearby, her expression complex as she watched silently.
**”Hahaha! You’re insane! Are you really Shi Hao? Are you really the Desolate?”** The Moon Rabbit tugged at his cheeks, half-convinced he’d been possessed.
The atmosphere was jubilant, filled with laughter.
Yet, beneath the joy, Shi Hao felt sorrow. Though they had temporarily repelled the immortal beings, calamity would return one day.
And what had he gained from this battle? What had he lost? Some faces he might never see again.
The thought made his eyes sting.
Even as his fighting spirit burned, memories of Sin Province, of those people, of the Fire Mulberry Forest, left him restless. He longed to roar at the heavens.
Regret weighed on his heart, bitterness on his tongue. With a sigh, Shi Hao climbed the city walls.
There, he saw the children—the last survivors of the Primordial Imperial City.
They wept inconsolably, their grief unbearable.
**”Don’t cry. From now on, I am your family. There is a pure land in the lower realm—a place called Stone Village. That will be your home.”** Shi Hao patted their heads.
The oldest were barely fourteen or fifteen; the youngest could barely stand. All were orphans, descendants of warriors.
**”You… are returning to the lower realm?”** Qing Yi turned to him, her heart trembling.
**”I’m tired. After this battle, I want to go back—to the place where I was born and raised.”**
Indeed, Shi Hao was exhausted—not just physically, but in spirit. Since leaving the wilderness as a youth, ascending to the heavens, journeying from the lower realm to the three thousand provinces, he had fought relentlessly.
He had seen too much. His heart was weary, aching for the laughter and warmth of Stone Village.
The others on the wall fell silent, unable to dissuade him.
They had witnessed his despair as Sin Province was torn away, his helplessness as he failed to save the woman in the Fire Mulberry Forest.
**”Big brother…”**
The children on the wall sobbed, their hearts shattered. This day was the darkest of their lives—their loved ones gone forever.
Shi Hao pushed aside his sorrow, forcing a smile as he hugged each child. They were the ones who suffered most.
**”Don’t cry. Don’t grieve. I’ll take you with me. One day, when you’re strong enough, I’ll lead you to cut off An Lan’s head and avenge your kin!”**
**”Yes!”** The children wiped their tears, their voices fierce and united.
**”I will lead you to unparalleled glory.”** Shi Hao’s words were calm, yet resolute.
Many on the wall shuddered.
What brilliance would the Sinful Blood lineage unleash?
Hearts trembled, especially among the powerful clans who had played a part in past injustices.
**”Must you really go?”** Qing Yi asked. Others stepped forward, wanting to persuade him but finding no words.
Shi Hao gazed into the distance, where the flames of karma in the Abyss raged, cutting off all passage.
That city would never rise again. After guarding for so long, its time had come.
A collective sigh rose from the walls.
For years, the foreign realm had battered at the gates, and that city had held the line.
Without it, the enemy would have stormed through long ago.
After enduring for so long, it could hold no more. The last king had fallen, sealing its fate.
That it lasted until now was a miracle.
**”The Immortal Kings paid a heavy price. They will need centuries to recover.”**
Undoubtedly, An Lan and Yu Tuo had suffered. Entering the Abyss had cursed them, its corrosive influence lingering for years.
That was why only An Lan had breached the pass earlier—the others dared not risk it.
**”Is it over? After this battle, will we have centuries of peace?”** someone murmured, equal parts relieved and awed.
**Boom!**
The Abyss convulsed. The crimson sea of laws surged like blood as an ancient, terrifying weapon slashed through, attempting to carve a path!
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