Myth Beyond Heaven

The skeleton’s armor creaked as he gestured to the ruins around them. “He left me to rot here. But before my soul dispersed, my master returned… with this.” He pointed to the God of Death’s skull embedded in his head. “She used its power to bind my spirit to me, tasking me with guarding it until the right person came.”

Ren’s empty gaze settled on Yun Lintian. “You.”

Yun Lintian’s golden eyes gleamed. “Why me?”

“Because you carry multiple Primordial Authorities,” Ren said simply. “Just as she predicted. My master believed only someone who could unite the divided powers could end the cycle.”

A heavy silence fell over the ruins. The wind howled through the petrified trees, carrying whispers of the past.

“Who is the Devourer?” Yun Lintian asked.

Ren’s skeletal fingers tightened around his scythe as he heard Yun Lintian’s question. The death energy around him pulsed erratically, as if the mere mention of the Devourer disturbed him.

“The Devourer…” Ren’s voice grew hollow. “A creature born from the void itself. Not even the Primordial Gods knew its true origin.”

Yue Yun crossed her arms. “How is that possible? The Primordial Gods ruled over all creation.”

Ren’s skull tilted slightly. “And yet, even they were not omniscient. My master once told me… the Devourer might have been the result of a failed experiment.”

Lin Yitong’s eyes widened. “An experiment? By who?”

Ren hesitated for a moment before answering. “Master never confirmed it, but… I believe it was the God of Time, Nian Shi.”

Yun Lintian’s golden eyes sharpened. “Oh? Why is that?”

“Because the Devourer manipulates time in ways no other being can,” Ren explained. “It doesn’t just consume life—it consumes eras, histories, entire timelines. That level of temporal corruption… it bears Nian Shi’s fingerprints.”

Yun Lintian and the others exchanged shocked glances.

Ren’s armor creaked as he straightened. “The Devourer was unleashed upon both sides. It recognized no allegiance—only hunger. Entire battalions of True Gods vanished in its wake, erased from existence.”

A cold wind swept through the ruins, carrying with it the echoes of a forgotten war.

Lin Yitong shivered. “How was it stopped?”

“It wasn’t,” Ren said grimly. “The Primordial Gods could only seal it away at great cost. My master believed Nian Shi allowed this—that the Devourer was always meant to reset the board.”

“Sealing away?” Yun Lintian frowned slightly. “Previously, you mentioned the Devourer’s chain. What is that?”

Ren’s skeletal fingers twitched at Yun Lintian’s question. The death energy around him grew restless, swirling like a storm.

“The Devourer’s Chains…” Ren’s voice dropped to a whisper. “They are not mere restraints. They are corruption made manifest—tools to twist souls into eternal prisoners.”

“You have experienced it firsthand, huh?” Yue Yun spoke up.

A dry, humorless laugh escaped Ren. “Oh, I have.”

He raised his armored hand, and the death energy condensed into a vision—a memory from the past.

The ruins around them faded, replaced by a battlefield of unimaginable scale. Countless gods clashed in the heavens, their blood raining down like crimson stars. And at the center of it all…

A swirling void.

A being of pure hunger.

The Devourer.

“After the Primordial War,” Ren continued, his voice hollow, “the Devourer appeared again. Someone had broken its seal.”

Yun Lintian’s golden eyes narrowed. “Nian Shi.”

Ren nodded. “Most likely. The Devourer came for me—perhaps because I carried the God of Death’s head, or perhaps simply because I was in its way.”

The memory shifted, showing Ren standing alone against the Devourer’s looming form.

“I was no match for it,” Ren admitted. “But my master had left me one final gift.”

In the vision, Ren raised his hands, and an emerald light erupted from his chest—a power that burned with the essence of life itself. The Devourer recoiled as if scalded, its void-like form rippling in pain.

“A fragment of the God of Life’s authority,” Lin Yitong breathed in awe.

Ren’s skeletal shoulders sagged. “It wounded the Devourer, but not enough to kill it. In retaliation, it tried to imprison me with its Chains of Corruption.”

The vision darkened as inky tendrils lashed out, wrapping around Ren’s body. But then—

The God of Death’s skull in his chest pulsed.

The chains shattered.

“The Devourer’s power is vast, but the God of Death’s authority overrides it,” Ren explained. “Where there is death, there can be no corruption—only an end.”

The memory faded, returning them to the ruined landscape.

Yun Lintian exhaled slowly. “Where is the Devourer now?”

Ren shook his skull. “I do not know. But it should not be in the Primal Chaos at this moment. Even freed, it would need time to regain its full strength.”

A grim silence settled over the group.

“How to find it?” Yun Lintian furrowed his brow.

Ren chuckled. “Easier said than done. The Devourer exists outside of time and space. It could be anywhere—or anywhen.”

Ren’s skeletal form suddenly shuddered, his armor creaking as he turned to survey the desolate landscape around them. The once-vibrant land of the God of Life’s domain now lay in ruins, its essence corrupted by centuries of death energy.

“The chosen one,” Ren spoke suddenly, his voice quieter now. “I have a final request.”

Yun Lintian glanced at him. “Speak.”

Ren’s hollow gaze lingered on the blackened earth. “This place… it was once my master’s sanctuary. A land of life and purity. But my presence here has poisoned it.” His bony fingers clenched. “I wish to be buried here… but not before it is cleansed.”

Lin Yitong’s eyes softened. “You want us to purify the land?”

Ren nodded. “You carry my master’s power. Only the God of Life’s authority can restore what was lost.”

Yun Lintian studied Ren for a long moment before speaking. “In truth… I can do more than that.”

Ren tilted his skull.

“Your soul remains intact,” Yun Lintian continued. “With the God of Life’s power, I could bring you back. Not as a warden bound to a skull… but as a living being.”

Silence.

Then—

Ren laughed. A dry, rasping sound, but genuine. “A kind offer… but no.”

Yun Lintian frowned. “Your duty is done. You could start anew—”

“My time ended long ago,” Ren interrupted gently. “I have lingered too long already. Let me rest.”

There was no hesitation in his voice. Only resolve.

Yun Lintian exhaled. “…Very well.”