“Though the Sin Clans are many, they are ranked by importance.”
Since ancient times, the descendants of the Sin Bloodlines have long been classified. Thirty clans, including the Shi Clan and the Fire Clan, were deemed the principal bearers of the Sin Blood!
This was the secret revealed by the elder.
The Shi Clan was among them—an unforgivable lineage, as if unseen eyes watched over them from the void.
“Always talking about Sin Blood—can it even be detected?” Shi Hao asked.
From the past until now, he had often heard this term. Stirred by emotion, he voiced his doubts: How was this determined?
The Shi Village was small and desolate, home to barely a hundred or two hundred people. Dressed in tattered beast hides, they lived primitively, bearing no resemblance to descendants of an ancient kingdom.
The elder sighed faintly. “Indeed, it can be detected through certain sacred artifacts. During testing, such people usually have faint glimmers on their foreheads. The stronger ones manifest condensed Sin Blood, their holy light blazing like torches. Those with deep Sin Blood may even form a sigil on their foreheads, beams of light soaring into the sky.”
Shi Hao was astonished upon hearing this.
“Where can such sacred artifacts be found?” he asked, eager to experience it himself and understand the truth.
“They aren’t exactly sacred artifacts—every clan has them. After the Shi Clan was destroyed, a massive boulder remained in the ruins of the ancient capital, placed before the city gates. It can still detect Sin Blood and likely hasn’t been taken.” The elder explained.
For most, it wasn’t considered a treasure, serving no real purpose.
As the elder spoke, his eyes were lifeless, filled with sorrow.
Shi Hao stayed in the village for a considerable time, earnestly seeking answers to many questions. Before leaving, he left behind a trove of treasures and headed straight for the ruins.
“Is he truly a descendant of our Shi Clan? How I wish for another prodigy to emerge—one who shines through the ages, a peerless warrior to cleanse our clan’s disgrace!” the elder murmured, tears clouding his eyes. He knelt toward the direction of the ancient kingdom and wept bitterly.
Soon after, Shi Hao arrived at the ruins. True to the elder’s words, he found a massive boulder outside the city gates. It stood out, ancient and weathered, streaked with blood-like stains—not splattered but seemingly innate.
Skeptical, Shi Hao reached out his hand.
Following the elder’s instructions, he channeled a trace of blood energy and waited.
In an instant, his blood roared like thunder, surging like a mighty river. A mysterious, archaic symbol blazed to life on his forehead, radiant beyond measure.
This wasn’t just a sigil, as the elder had described—it transformed into a swirling constellation, intricate, eerie, and luminous, its brilliance unceasing.
Then, with a sharp *shriek*, the light erupted into the heavens, illuminating the sky and scattering the clouds!
“By the heavens, what is that?!”
In the distance, people gasped, staring incredulously at the sky.
A beam of light pierced the firmament, illuminating the land with an eerie, unfathomable glow, accompanied by an inexplicable resonance.
“That’s… condensed Sin Blood, strong enough to shatter the clouds—unprecedented!”
The phenomenon shook the land. Many sects across Sin Province sensed it immediately.
“How can Sin Blood manifest such a powerful sigil? A light that pierces the heavens—never seen before!”
Exclamations arose from all directions.
Meanwhile, Shi Hao stood frozen. A desolate voice echoed in his ears—whether from the boulder or the sigil on his forehead, he couldn’t tell.
“We… are not descendants of Sin Blood. Our ancestors… achieved unparalleled glory… They fought on the frontlines, and still do, writing legends with blood and bone!”
The voice was sorrowful, desolate, and ancient, stirring tears in those who heard it.
Shi Hao remained motionless, his chest filled with emotion. As he stood there, fused with the boulder, the sigil on his forehead burned even brighter.
“We are not sinners… The blood in our veins is not tainted—it is honor, recording past deeds.”
The voice boomed in Shi Hao’s ears, resonating deep within him.
Far away, many were alarmed. The brilliance of the Sin Blood light was beyond belief.
“Who could it be? Such concentrated Sin Blood—has a true ancient demon returned?!” someone whispered, eyes narrowed and gleaming.
“This will surely shake every sect and spread across the provinces!”
In the sky, a sigil manifested. Someone, separated by vast distances, sensed it through an ancient sect mirror. On its surface appeared a single character: “Sin.”
It had fully materialized into the word “Sin,” leaving the mirror’s wielder breathless.
“Sin Blood forming a character—this person must be found!”
Immediately, an ancient being issued a decree, making a decisive call.
Near the ruins of Shi Country, some sects witnessed it firsthand—a radiant ancient sigil in the sky, shining like a sun.
Many were awestruck, murmuring among themselves but daring not approach, fearing retribution.
At the distant horizon, a grandfather and grandson paused, sensing the phenomenon.
“Grandfather, is that the character for ‘Sin’?”
“Yes. For someone’s Sin Blood to condense and illuminate the heavens, manifesting that character in the sky… In the past, even great demons only produced a single sigil.”
“But, Grandfather, you once told me that character didn’t always mean ‘Sin.’ It once symbolized glory.”
“Indeed. A pity. Now it is ‘Sin,’ its original meaning lost.”
The two departed, vanishing beyond the horizon.
Shi Hao’s hand trembled as he touched the blood-streaked boulder. The desolate voice still echoed in his ears.
“We… are not Sin Blood. Our ancestors… still fight there, sealing the heavens, cutting off retreat. They battle on, guarding the borderlands.”
The mournful words seemed to come from a severed world—a cry of defiance, of sorrow, carrying both glory and tragedy.
Unbeknownst to him, Shi Hao found himself shaking, his emotions resonating. Tears streamed down his face.
Finally, he withdrew his hand from the boulder. The sigil on his forehead faded, and the Sin Blood light dispersed from the sky.
Wiping his face, he found his cheeks still wet. The experience had been profoundly real, stirring him deeply.
But he hesitated no longer. With decisive resolve, he drew his Void Battle Halberd and slashed open the void. Gripping the halberd, he leaped inside.
The void closed, restoring silence.
Not long after, a figure descended like thunder, shaking the heavens as it crashed into the ruins—an actual Heavenly God, the first to arrive.
Soon, others followed, their auras vast and oppressive.
Later, even a figure wreathed in chaotic energy descended from beyond the sky, gazing upon the site in prolonged silence.
“Sin Blood taking form, light erupting from the brow, imprinting the heavens—one might think their ancestors had returned,” an ancient voice finally spoke, devoid of emotion.
They departed without lingering.
Subsequently, several more groups arrived, pausing briefly before moving on.
“The Sin Blood has burned away all traces. The light from the brow consumed everything—nothing can be sensed.”
A single character—”Sin”—projected across the firmament, a mere phenomenon, yet it had shaken the world!
Shi Hao had no idea the storm his actions had stirred. A dark undercurrent surged as many sought to find him.
By then, he was already far away, standing atop a low hill, lost in thought.
After an indeterminate time, he finally snapped out of it. “Descendants of Sin Blood? I am not!”
Even now, he felt that resonance—his ancestors were not sinners but creators of glory, still fighting on the frontlines, shedding their blood.
The surge of emotion, the boiling battle spirit, granted Shi Hao an epiphany. He was on the verge of another breakthrough.
“Am I about to reach the Great Perfection of the Venerable One (Venerable) realm?”
His eyes gleamed. He had already been on the cusp, but this emotional upheaval had pushed him to the brink of ascension.
He restrained himself, knowing a misstep could thrust him directly into the Divine Flame realm.
Once he attained Great Perfection, only a paper-thin barrier would remain before Divine Flame. He had a plan—to wait a few days, seize a heavenly opportunity, refine himself, and then achieve Great Perfection at his peak.
This had long been his strategy, and he wouldn’t disrupt it now.
Regardless, before entering the “Ancient Immortal Realm,” he had to reach Great Perfection, elevating his combat prowess to face all adversaries with confidence.
“Who dares call us Sin Blood descendants? What sin?!” Shi Hao seethed with defiance.
Calming himself, he decided to visit the Fire Nation. Huo Ling’er should be there—he wondered how she fared now.
Heaven Province lay immeasurably far from Sin Province, spanning hundreds of regions.
Yet news of today’s events had already reached its highest echelons, causing a stir.
In truth, the manifestation of the “Sin” character had shaken many sects beyond just their clan.
But only this clan vaguely guessed—they knew who it was!
“The ruins of the Shi Clan… It must be that boy,” a Heavenly God said coldly.
Recently, a mere Venerable One (Venerable) had humiliated them—slaying You Yu, defeating the Guardian, and making their sect a laughingstock.
Even so, they hadn’t revealed Shi Hao’s true identity, clinging to the hope of capturing him alive to claim the Kun Peng Art for themselves.
“Let me divine his location!” The Guardian stepped forward, his broken horn partially regrown, his withered face paler than ever.
“My lord!” a Heavenly God cried out in concern. If the elder proceeded, it might cost him his remaining lifespan.
“My lord, you mustn’t! Qi Daolin is a madman. Even if we find the boy, the cost would outweigh the gain!” Heavenly God Mo Luo urged.
“Qi Daolin has ventured into the untamed wilds. What I do will leave no trace. Heaven has ordained this child’s demise,” the Guardian said calmly.
All were stunned, exchanging glances.
“Prepare a quiet chamber. I shall perform the rite, seize the Kun Peng Art, and send this calamity to his end.” The Guardian’s gaze was icy, his broken horn glinting coldly.
Soon, the chamber fell silent as all Heavenly Gods withdrew to wait.
Time passed. They grew anxious—eager for the supreme art and the boy’s death, yet fearing Qi Daolin’s wrath.
“The Guardian has acted. The boy is doomed. Though gifted, his brilliance will fade too soon.”
“Death is for the best. Young as he is, he unsettles me.”
The Heavenly Gods murmured as they waited.
Suddenly, they felt the void tear open—a passage forming, followed by a heavy thud.
“Has the lord succeeded? Has he captured the little wretch?” They could scarcely believe it.
The entire upper echelon of the Celestial Clan rose, thrilled.
It seemed someone had been thrown to the ground. Had they… truly succeeded?
“Cough…”
A cough rang out as the chamber’s runes faded, allowing perception.
Their faces fell as they rushed inside.
“My lord!” they cried.
The Guardian lay on the ground, coughing blood, his mouth frothing red. He hadn’t captured anyone—he had collapsed.
“What happened?” Heavenly God Mo Luo and others panicked, hastening to heal him.
But the blood wouldn’t stop.
“I couldn’t divine him,” the Guardian muttered, bewildered and shaken. “Peering into the future, I saw only chaos. Looking back, his past is… void.”
“My lord, what… do you mean?!”
“Are you speaking of… that little demon?!”
“Him.” The Guardian’s blood flow continued as he weakened. “He… seems not to belong to this entire ancient history.”
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