Light intertwined with darkness, death and samsara sharing the same sky.
Time and space reflected one another, while destruction, holiness, curses, and life circled all around.
That eternal Dao began to stir, yin and yang retreated, the five elements gave their shelter, and the entire heavens shook.
The vast Heaven's Will spun at the center of the sky. At that moment, no matter where one was on the Primordial Heartlands, whether a newly risen prodigy or an ancient monster sealed away for countless years, everyone could feel that power.
It was the condensation of an era, the very place of destiny.
“The Heaven's Will has appeared,” someone lifted their head, muttering excitedly.
The entire Primordial Heartlands fell into a short frenzy.
The sky was filled with multicolored laws, and all sects recalled their disciples back to their gates, waiting silently for the choice of the Heaven's Will.
Not only the great imperial lineages, but also countless wandering cultivators’ disciples looked up at the heavens.
Was this not also their chance to defy fate?
To ascend as a Grand Emperor, to establish a lineage of their own, to step into the Outer Heavens.
On the Thirteen Islands of the Eastern Sea, a young man in white gazed levelly at the sea’s surface.
The calm waters reflected the multicolored sky.
His hair was white as snow, his eyes clear as water.
He murmured: “When the sea reaches its end, the sky becomes the shore; when the mountain is climbed to its peak, I alone stand as the summit.”
On the lofty Azure Peaks, towering into the clouds with boundless void around, two youths sat cross-legged in the mist. Between them was a delicate chessboard.
The one in black robes leaned back on the ground, gulping wine noisily from a flask.
He threw it aside and shouted with passion: “I wish to stand at the peak of the world, tell me, who dares contend?”
Beside him, another wine flask floated in midair.
Beneath it, a violet flame blazed without cause, boiling the wine inside.
The blue-robed youth across from him was much more refined.
He poured himself a small cup, smiling. “Brother Zhuo, your spirit is high.”
“With the arrival of the Heaven's Will, is this not our great era?” said the black-robed youth. “To contend, for the Heaven's Will, for this grand age, against all the prodigies under heaven, and even against you, Brother Wen Dian!”
The blue-robed youth burst into laughter.
He drank his cup dry and said, “Brew wine, laugh, and discuss the world, raise the sword against the heavens!”
In the Misty Forest, famed as the paradise of beasts, a man in crimson garb, dyed as though with blood, fought deep within, long spear in hand.
Behind him lay endless corpses of monstrous beasts, piled thick across the ground.
The dense stench of blood filled the forest. Blood dripped from his body, his own, and that of countless beasts.
His eyes were ferocious, thick brows raised, his nose hooked like an eagle’s beak, several knife scars twisting across his face like writhing dragons.
Finally, the spear in his hand erupted with astonishing intent, toppling hundreds of towering ancient trees.
The last beast before him was nailed midair by that spear.
The man gazed toward the Heaven's Will and gave a heavy, cold snort.
“Bones piled like mountains in my grasp, rivers of blood beneath my spear. Ten thousand miles of land drenched in flesh, I slay all beneath heaven, my weapon never sheathed.”
In a faraway imperial lineage, solemnity filled the air. Led by the Sacred Lord, an ancient coffin was brought forth.
The coffin was crystalline and transparent, with six-sided facets.
Under the sunlight, it shone brilliantly.
The Sacred Lord and all elders knelt as the lid of the coffin was slowly opened.
The creaking sound grated in the silence.
A figure sat up inside.
It was a young man, tender-faced, appearing no more than a teenager.
He wore a purple dragon robe, as though he had stepped out of the ancient ages themselves.
The youth slowly opened his eyes, and in that instant, heaven and earth grew desolate.
As if when his eyes opened it was day, and when closed, it was night.
Sun and moon revolved within his gaze.
“Ancestor, the Heaven's Will has formed. The era has arrived,” the Sacred Lord said respectfully.
“How long have I been sealed?” the young man asked.
His voice was hoarse, as though unused for countless ages, pressed deep in his throat.
“Exactly nine thousand nine hundred years,” the sect master replied.
“Exactly one era,” the youth stood from the coffin. At that moment, his dragon robe aged before the eye, fading and tattering.
The dragon’s head dulled, the garment grew ragged, utterly unlike before.
“In a moment I ascend to the heavenly path, chasing away stars, dimming the moon,” he said calmly.
………
On South Goose Mountain, Xu Zimo quietly watched the transformations of the Heaven's Will above the heavens.
At times, countless Daos converged together. At times, auspicious beasts poured endlessly from the skies. At times, spring rains drifted into seven-colored rainbows.
Golden springs bubbled from the earth, celestial dew descended from the heavens.
The sun and moon shone together, while the four seasons unfolded at once.
The alternation of sun and moon divided heaven and earth into black and white.
What once took twenty-four hours now cycled with startling speed.
Heaven and earth turned in constant black and white, repeating endlessly.
Daos manifested, countless lives reflected, until thunder and lightning split the sky.
“The Heaven's Will is about to gather,” someone whispered.
The Heaven's Will was the essence of an era. When it separated from the Dao, myriad omens naturally followed.
The sky poured with torrential rain, thunder and lightning filled the heavens.
All living beings hid away in terror.
The apocalyptic scene moved hearts.
Xu Zimo stood in his courtyard atop South Goose Mountain, rain cascading outside the pavilion.
Xu Qingshan walked in with an umbrella, smiling as he looked at him. “You’ve been waiting a long time.”
“Father, what is your dream?”
With the Heaven's Will so near, Xu Zimo felt no urgency.
“What is it? You want to bear the Heaven's Will to fulfill it for me?” Xu Qingshan smiled in reply.
Xu Zimo was silent for a long time, then suddenly asked, “Would you and Mother come with me to the Outer Heavens?”
At these words, silence fell completely.
Father and son locked gazes.
Rain fell, thunder roared.
If Xu Qingshan chose not to go, Xu Zimo would understand.
But then, when would they meet again? Who could say in what distant age.
To go to the Outer Heavens, and try to return, would be almost impossible.
And Xu Zimo had the feeling that even surviving the journey would be uncertain.
“Why speak so heavily, when we’ve not yet reached parting?” Xu Qingshan chuckled.
“You haven’t answered me,” Xu Zimo said.
“What would we do in the Outer Heavens?” Xu Qingshan asked in return. “To see you? Even here on the Primordial Heartlands, you already return but once in years. If you went to the Outer Heavens, then even under the same sky, we would hardly meet many times.”