Myth Beyond Heaven

The Primal Chaos had become a battlefield of gods.

Mountains lay shattered, rivers ran red with blood, and the skies themselves wept with the remnants of shattered laws. The once-glorious lands of the four Expanses were now scarred by endless conflict, the earth torn asunder by the clashing of divine powers.

The Misty Cloud Sect’s disciples—all formidable female cultivators—stood at the forefront of the war, their blades cutting down swathes of chaotic creatures. Their losses were heavy, but their resolve was unbroken.

Two hundred and sixty-one had already fallen, their names etched into the annals of the sect’s history. Yet for every disciple lost, thousands of Chaos creatures were obliterated in return.

But the tides of war were shifting.

The ancient True Gods—those who had vanished after leaving the God Tomb—had reappeared. And they had chosen the side of chaos.

These forgotten deities, once revered as legends, now marched alongside the Realm of Chaos, their divine might turned against the Primal Chaos’ defenders. Their betrayal was a blade through the heart of the resistance.

In the Northern Expanse, the Frost Queen Xue Ling battled against the ancient fire god Yan Luo, their clash turning the tundra into a wasteland of ice and flame.

In the Western Expanse, the Sword Sovereign Bai Wuxie dueled the twin thunder gods Lei Ming and Lei Hong, their blades splitting the heavens with every strike.

In the Eastern Expanse, the Misty Cloud Sect’s disciples formed a desperate formation against the tide of corrupted beasts, their formation flags flickering under the assault of the ancient earth god Huang Shan.

And in the Southern Expanse—

A lone woman stood against an army of the dead.

The air reeked of decay.

Gu Buxiu, the Ancient True God of Corpse Refining, smiled as his puppets shambled forward. Their bodies—once proud cultivators, now mindless husks—twitched with unnatural life, their eyes hollow, their flesh rotting.

Opposite him, Lan Qinghe—the Orchid Immortal—stood amidst a field of blooming flowers, her jade-green robes fluttering in the wind. Her expression was calm, but her eyes burned with quiet fury.

“Lan Qinghe,” Gu Buxiu greeted, his voice like dry bones scraping together. “How nostalgic. The last time we met, you were following that boy Yun Lintian like a maidservant.”

Lan Qinghe didn’t smile. “And you ran away with your tail between your legs.”

Gu Buxiu chuckled. “You should know that a sharp tongue won’t make you win this battle.”

He raised a skeletal hand.

“Rise.”

The earth trembled as hundreds—no, thousands—of corpse puppets clawed their way out of the ground. Some were fresh, their faces still twisted in agony. Others were ancient, their bones blackened with age.

Lan Qinghe’s fingers twitched.

“Bloom.”

Vines erupted from the earth, coiling around the nearest puppets, crushing them into pulp. Flowers sprouted from their remains, their petals glowing with purifying light.

Gu Buxiu tsked. “Still relying on your little plants?”

He snapped his fingers.

“Corpse Explosion.”

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Dozens of puppets detonated, their rotting flesh spraying corrosive miasma. The vines withered instantly, the flowers blackening into dust.

Lan Qinghe didn’t flinch. She raised both hands, and the very air shimmered with emerald light.

“Embrace.”

A colossal tree erupted from the earth, its roots lashing out like whips, impaling puppets by the dozens. Its branches swayed, releasing a rain of glowing pollen that dissolved the undead on contact.

Gu Buxiu’s smile faded.

“Annoying.”

He clapped his hands.

“Heavenly Corpse Array.”

The remaining puppets merged, their bodies fusing into a grotesque titan of rotting flesh. The abomination roared, its maw dripping with venom, and slammed a fist toward Lan Qinghe.

She leaped, flipping over the strike, and landed lightly on the titan’s arm.

“Kill!”

Her palm pressed against the rotting flesh—

And the titan imploded, its body collapsing inward as roots erupted from within, tearing it apart from the inside.

Gu Buxiu’s eyes narrowed.

“You’ve improved.”

Lan Qinghe landed gracefully, her sleeves untouched by filth. “And you’ve grown predictable.”

Gu Buxiu chuckled. Then his expression darkened.

“Let’s see how you handle this.”

He bit his thumb and smeared blood across his forehead.

“Wake up!”

BANG!

The earth split.

A massive coffin, black as night and pulsing with cursed energy, rose from the depths. Its lid creaked open—

And something stepped out.

A figure clad in tattered imperial robes, its skin pale as jade, its eyes burning with violet fire.

Lan Qinghe’s breath hitched.

“Emperor Wu…?”

Gu Buxiu grinned. “I dug him up just for you.”

The corpse emperor moved.

Faster than sight.

His palm slammed into Lan Qinghe’s chest before she could react—

CRACK!

Her ribs shattered. Blood sprayed from her lips as she was sent flying, crashing through trees like a broken doll.

Gu Buxiu sighed. “Ah, how disappointing. I expected more from the Orchid Immortal.”

Then—

A vine lashed around his ankle.

He looked down, amused—

YANK!

The vine pulled, dragging him face-first into the dirt.

Lan Qinghe stood, her body wreathed in emerald light, her wounds knitting back together.

Gu Buxiu laughed, spitting out mud.

“Now this is fun!”

The battle raged on—

While elsewhere, the war for the Primal Chaos burned brighter than ever.

BOOM!

The endless void of space trembled as two divine figures faced each other across the starless expanse. No planet dared exist near them; the very fabric of reality warped under their presence. Here, in the infinite darkness between celestial bodies, two True Gods prepared for battle.

Long Qingxuan floated effortlessly in the vacuum, her black hair streaming behind her like a banner of night.

The massive Dragon God World Ender rested against her shoulder, its blade humming with primordial energy. Her azure draconic eyes glowed like twin blue stars in the darkness, illuminating the void around her.

Opposite her, Ying Wen hovered with serpentine grace, his golden slit-pupiled eyes gleaming with predatory amusement. His body undulated slightly in the weightless environment, every movement dripping with lethal precision.

“Heavenly Serpent God, Ying Wen,” he introduced himself, his voice carrying through the emptiness as if space itself carried his words. “Daughter of the Azure Dragon and the Dragon Queen of Light… what an exquisite bloodline you possess.”

His tongue flicked out, tasting the cosmic energies between them. “A pity you’ve already been claimed by another. But I don’t mind. Your blood is still pure enough for my purposes.”

Long Qingxuan’s expression remained frosty, her grip tightening on World Ender.

Ying Wen chuckled, the sound vibrating through the void. “No rage? No indignation? How dull. I expected more fire from a dragon.”