The battlefield lay in ruins.
Broken talismans fluttered through the air like ashes. The sky was dimmed by storm clouds, thunder rumbling with unnatural wrath, as if even the heavens held their breath. Spiritual auras were frayed and stretched thin across the ground, and blood soaked into the trampled soil—though none dared move now.
Fenglan coughed beside his brother, clutching his bruised shoulder. Zhenhai knelt beside Jiang Fenglie, who was bleeding from the side, shielding them behind the remnants of a broken barrier.
But their eyes were fixed on the same spot.
At the center of it all—Crown Prince Longxuan, shoulders squared, golden robes torn and streaked with soot, stood still beneath the black sky. In front of him, Liu Shengjie, clad in shimmering war-armor of divine sigils and woven dark threads, held a blade—gleaming with murderous qi—mere inches from the prince's throat.
"Come out!" Liu Shengjie's voice rang like iron striking bone. His tone cracked the silence like thunder. "Mo Tianzun! I know you're watching—hiding like a coward. Show yourself! Or shall I paint the earth with your beloved's blood?"
Longxuan didn't flinch. His gaze, calm yet fierce, bore into Shengjie's eyes.
"If you want me to scream for him, you're sorely mistaken."
Shengjie's eye twitched.
"You think I won't?"
The blade pressed closer. A single bead of blood blossomed at Longxuan's throat. The group gasped. Zhenhai moved slightly—but Jiang Fenglie held him back with a pained shake of his head.
"We're too far… We'll only trigger it faster…"
"No…" Fenglan whispered. "Please… Tianzun… where are you…?"
Shengjie's voice lowered, dark and cold. "Very well then. You brought this on yourselves."
He raised his sword.
But before the blade could fall—
"Ssssss..."
A low, guttural hiss curled through the air like smoke.
A cold wind rushed across the field, extinguishing every remaining flame. The clouds trembled. Even the grass seemed to hold its breath.
Shengjie froze.
The soldiers froze.
Even Longxuan's heart skipped a beat.
Then came the sound.
A flute.
Gentle. Clear. Piercing.
It wasn't loud—but it cut through the chaos like light through darkness. Haunting. Familiar. Steady.
Everyone turned their heads.
Atop a massive hill that had once stood silent and empty, a shadow rose—taller than a palace tower, its scales glistening with the sheen of oil and ink. A serpent, enormous and ancient, coiled like a mountain around the hilltop, its eyes glowing red-gold.
And standing at the very peak of its massive skull…
Was him.
Hair like cascading snow, loose and wild in the wind. His black robes glinted with silver patterns that moved like living light. The wine gourd at his hip swung as he stepped forward slowly, his slender fingers still pressed to the flute at his lips. His expression calm. Detached. Cold like frost in spring.
Mo Tianzun had returned.
The serpent hissed again—lower this time, like a beast waiting for command.
The melody of the flute faded as Tianzun lowered it from his lips.
His eyes, once clouded and distant, now burned like silver blades.
"I was gone for a moment…" His voice echoed across the valley. "And already you threaten my family?"
Shengjie's hand trembled slightly—just slightly—before he chuckled, feigning calm. He clapped.
"Look who came back from the grave. The great Mo Tianzun, reborn… riding a snake like a flute-playing god."
Tianzun's gaze did not waver.
"You've spoken too many lies."
He jumped.
The wind howled. His figure vanished from the hilltop and appeared in front of Longxuan in a blink—between him and Shengjie, blocking the blade with two fingers.
The sword shivered in Liu Shengjie's hands.
Longxuan gasped. "Tianzun…"
Mo Tianzun didn't turn to him, but his hand brushed against Longxuan's cheeks.
"Sorry I took so long."
His voice was low. Warm.
Longxuan's eyes filled with concern.
Behind them, the serpent raised its head, hissing in fury. The soldiers backed away instinctively, some tripping over themselves. The aura it released was suffocating—ancient, divine, untamed.
Shengjie stepped back slightly, then gritted his teeth. "You think coming back with one beast and a new flute will change everything?"
Mo Tianzun finally turned his head, slowly, to face him.
"No," he said. "But I'm not done yet."
His eyes gleamed—then narrowed.
"And this time, I'm not holding back."