In days of yore, when the sun's radiant beams still adorned the heavens, there existed a realm where the arcane arts held sway over the hearts of men. In this realm, the sorcerers of old wielded powers beyond mortal comprehension, casting spells that could rend the very fabric of reality.
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Amidst the ebb and flow of time, a tale unfolded, woven with threads of vengeance and destiny. Shen Hua, a scion of the ancient bloodlines, traversed the winding paths of fate, his heart ablaze with the flames of retribution. Forged in the crucible of loss and betrayal, his resolve remained unyielding, a beacon of defiance against the encroaching darkness.
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As he ascended to the realm of the Golden Pill, Shen Hua's essence became suffused with the essence of the cosmos. No longer bound by the limitations of mortal flesh, he soared upon the wings of transcendence, his spirit attuned to the harmonies of the celestial spheres.
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Yet, even as he attained enlightenment, the shadows of the past loomed large upon the horizon. The specter of Zhuhao, harbinger of doom and architect of chaos, cast its baleful gaze upon the land, laying waste to all who dared defy its dominion.
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With steely determination and unwavering resolve, Shen Hua embarked upon a quest for justice, his path fraught with peril and uncertainty. Through the mists of time, he journeyed, his gaze fixed upon the summit of Mount Ziming, where destiny awaited him.
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In the annals of history, his name would be remembered as a paragon of righteousness, a champion of the oppressed, and a harbinger of hope in a world shrouded in darkness. And though the road ahead was fraught with danger, Shen Hua faced the challenges that lay before him with courage and conviction, for he knew that only through adversity could one truly attain greatness.
Zhuhao stood before Mount Ziming, gazing at the radiant aura emanating from the protective array, his mind adrift in a sea of memories. It was as if he had been transported back to that fateful night thirty years prior.
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At the tender age of ten, Zhuhao knelt upon the icy tiles, his head bowed in trembling silence. Tears cascaded down his cheeks, falling to the ground with each agonizing moment. Before him, the severed heads of his father and grandfather lay upon the table, a grim reminder of their family's downfall. Behind him, the members of the Zhuhao clan knelt in fearful reverence, while his elder brother shielded him from the predatory gaze of the assailants.
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Seated atop his throne of arrogance, the enigmatic figure known as Shen Hua regarded them with a cold indifference, his eyes betraying no hint of mercy. It was he who led the assault that shattered the once-mighty Zhuhao clan.
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"You Zhuhao clan have grown bold, consorting with the Necromancers near Starfall Lake, conducting blood rites to summon ancient horrors," Shen Hua's voice rang out, devoid of compassion. "Do you seek the annihilation of our neighboring clans near Starfall Lake? The last time the Necromancers conducted their blood rites, a hundred thousand souls perished in Qinghua City."
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Zhuhao's brother began to prostrate himself, his forehead pounding against the unforgiving floor in a desperate plea for mercy. "We were wrong, we were truly wrong," he whimpered. "We will surrender everything the Zhuhao clan possesses. I can tell you the location of our treasure vaults, we ask only for our lives in return."
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But Shen Hua's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Does the Zhuhao clan still possess the right to negotiate with me?" he sneered. "I heard that Zhuhao had three sons, yet only two remain. Did one escape?"
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A burly figure descended from the heavens, his laughter echoing with manic glee. "He didn't escape. He's right here," he bellowed, tossing a severed head to the ground.
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The head rolled to Zhuhao's feet, and he recognized it immediately—it was his younger brother's. His eyes still held the despair of death, frozen in eternal torment.
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Tears streaming down his face, Zhuhao reached down and gently closed his brother's eyes, his heart heavy with grief. "Dispose of him," Shen Hua commanded, his voice as cold as ice. "Root out the weed, lest it sprout anew with the coming of spring."
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Zhuhao's brother threw himself at Shen Hua's feet, his voice trembling with desperation. "My brother possesses exceptional talent, a rare water affinity. He's only ten years old, but he's valuable. Spare his life, and you can sell him as a slave. He's worth a fortune. Or you could place him under a binding curse, make him your slave for life. A cultivator of Foundation Establishment or even Golden Core level would be a valuable asset, wouldn't you agree?"
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"We've already lost so many members of the Zhuhao clan. Killing me won't bring you any satisfaction. Now, it's time to consider how to maximize your gains."
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Shen Hua remained silent, his gaze fixed upon Zhuhao's brother with a chilling intensity.
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Watching his once proud brother grovel at Shen Hua's feet, Zhuhao's heart broke. His tears flowed even more freely, his resolve wavering. He wanted to tell his brother that he wasn't afraid to die, but his brother's tearful eyes and bloodied forehead silenced him.
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With a heavy heart, Zhuhao knelt once more, his spirit crushed beneath the weight of despair.
Zhuhao's brother hastily plastered on a fawning smile, hoping to say more. However, Shen Hua had already begun to turn away, leaving behind only these words: "Kill them all."
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The slaughter commenced.
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Zhuhao watched helplessly as his kinsmen, including his elder brother, fell one by one into pools of blood. Consumed by madness, Zhuhao howled and charged towards the blades wielded by the cultivators.
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Perhaps death was a form of liberation... Zhuhao thought. But just as the butcher's blade was about to descend upon him, it halted.
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Zhuhao was filled with astonishment. The surrounding cultivators' gazes turned solemn.
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For behind Zhuhao stood a Daoist, clad in flowing robes, emitting the aura of a Golden Core cultivator.
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The Daoist fixed his gaze upon Zhuhao, his countenance kind and benevolent. "Are you willing to become my disciple?"
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Zhuhao knew this was his only chance. He had to survive, to avenge his brother, his father, his clan.
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"I, Zhuhao, pay my respects to Master," Zhuhao replied.
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With a wave of his sleeve, the Golden Core cultivator exuded a formidable aura, causing the Foundation Establishment cultivators to fall silent. "I am Changchun Zhenren. I have recognized this youth's exceptional talent, which aligns with the traditions of our Ji Shui Sect. I shall take him as my personal disciple. Do any of you object?"
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Under the imposing presence of Changchun Zhenren's Golden Core, the Foundation Establishment cultivators dared not voice their dissent. They could only mumble, "We dare not."
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And so, Changchun Zhenren proudly led Zhuhao away.
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As Zhuhao carefully scrutinized the faces of those present, he vowed never to forget his enemies—not a single one. He would seek vengeance, even if it meant his own life.
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Changchun Zhenren guided Zhuhao on the path towards the Ji Shui Sect.
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"Do you know why they couldn't touch you?" Changchun Zhenren asked. "Because I am a Golden Core cultivator. I am powerful enough. Understand?"
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"Keep cultivating, young one," he continued.
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Zhuhao remained silent, nodding his head vigorously.
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He had long understood the importance of strength. The hatred in his heart fueled his cultivation, driving him forward.
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Zhuhao immersed himself in relentless training. At times, he would awaken from nightmares, haunted by the deaths of his brother, father, and younger sibling. Each time, he would rise from his bed, his eyes burning with determination, and resume his cultivation.
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Coupled with his exceptional water affinity, which perfectly complemented the techniques of the Ji Shui Sect, and the abundant resources provided by the sect, Zhuhao's progress was rapid.
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In just thirty years, he ascended from the Qi Refinement stage to the Foundation Establishment stage, attracting considerable attention within the Ji Shui Sect.
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His diligence bore fruit. The Ji Shui Sect recognized Zhuhao as a potential Core Formation candidate.
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However, due to the heavy mental burden from the massacre of his family by the Starfall Lake Four Great Families during his youth, the sect decided to eliminate Zhuhao's inner demons. They dispatched Zhuhao's senior, Zhuhao, accompanied by a group of Foundation Establishment disciples, to assist him.
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This mission aimed to resolve Zhuhao's karmic ties to the mortal world, allowing him to wholeheartedly pursue the path of immortality.
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Finally, Zhuhao achieved his long-cherished wish. He first annihilated the entire Shen family, followed by the Wang and Li families. Now, only the Zhao family of Ziming Mountain remained.
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The only regret was that Shen Hua had escaped. Thirty years had passed, but the indifferent gaze of Shen Hua was still seared into Zhuhao's heart.
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