Prologue

Page (1/3)

Winter's chill, midnight.

The Mortal Realm, Crimson Sword Peak.

The earth was blood-red, the mountain face steep as a blade, the body narrowing at the base and widening above. From afar, the entire peak resembled a colossal crimson sword thrust upside-down into the land, hence its name: Crimson Sword.

Looking up, the summit pierced the heavens, its height unseen.

Night cloaked the peak in shadow. Rare and wondrous flora stood silently amid the biting cold, a landscape of solemn death.

Above the midpoint, ethereal mist drifted and curled, lending the peak an air of mystery and reverence.

In the depths of winter, delicate snowflakes fell from the sky, covering every inch of the earth, painting the world in a haze of white.

The peak was blanketed in snow; patches melted into the red earth, casting an eerie, dark crimson hue.

In the dead of night, when all lights in the world had gone out, silence reigned around Crimson Sword Peak, broken only by the occasional cry or flutter of a beast or bird. Yet quickly, all returned to quiet.

Suddenly, the sound of the wind being cleaved rang out—two shadows appeared abruptly atop the peak!

One red, one blue, standing face-to-face, feet poised above the void.

The red figure was a middle-aged man: tall and imposing, broad-shouldered, with a righteous countenance. His long red hair whipped wildly in the wind, giving him a fierce air. His dark crimson eyes were deep and intense, fixed on the figure before him.

Opposite, the blue figure was a woman of unparalleled beauty, standing tall and proud. Her hair, black as a waterfall, cascaded to her waist. Her face was as lustrous as jade, with arched brows, almond eyes, a delicate nose, and rosebud lips—beauty beyond compare. A white embroidered sash accentuated her slender waist, swaying gently in the wind, highlighting her exquisite form.

“Hong Yan, hand over the Five Illusions Manual. Don’t be stubborn; if you persist, you’ll only stray further down the wrong path.” After a brief silence, the woman in blue spoke first. Her voice was clear as a songbird, light as a swallow, heavenly to the ear.

“Hand it over?” The man in red scoffed, lips curling in mockery. “To place it under the surveillance of the Hall of Illusions? To let those old men continue coveting it? Lan Yu, can’t you see their ambition grows by the day? Each one wants to possess the Five Illusions Manual alone. If I return it, that would be the true path to ruin!”

He paused, his expression growing grave. “Those old monsters are already unfathomably powerful. If they gain the Five Illusions Manual, even the three of us—myself, you, and Zi Dian—might not be able to withstand them!”

Lan Yu’s brows furrowed as she pondered. “Impossible. Over the past century, the elders of the hall have fulfilled their duties faithfully, never overstepping. How could they harbor improper desires for the Five Illusions Manual? Besides, its requirements for cultivation and soul are exacting; they know this well. Though their skills are profound, they are not at the level to practice the manual. They cannot touch it.”

Hong Yan shook his head, noncommittal. “No. For nearly a century, the Hall of Illusions has been peaceful, but the elders have rarely shown their true strength. How can you be certain they can’t practice the manual? The Elder’s Seat has been passed down for nearly two thousand years—their power is not to be underestimated. And I’ve seen the Third Elder use a technique from the manual.”

Lan Yu’s frown deepened. “Which technique did he use?”

Hong Yan’s dark crimson eyes stared directly at her, each word heavy: “The Water Illusion—Rain Across the Sky!”

“What do you mean?” Lan Yu’s anger flashed, her voice sharp. “The Water Illusion has always been under my personal care, only brought out today for the Hall’s ritual. How could the Third Elder know a single move? Nonsense! And you—taking advantage of me and Zi Dian, seizing the manual and attempting to flee—you’re the one who wants it for yourself. Everything you said is pure fabrication!”

“My words are finished. Believe them or not.” Unmoved by her suspicion, Hong Yan’s expression remained resolute. “Regardless, I will not surrender the Five Illusions Manual. Now, chaos spreads through all three realms, every faction waiting to strike. The prophecy inscribed within is nearing fulfillment. If anything happens to the manual now, disaster will sweep the land—death and suffering everywhere. As its holders, how could we answer to the might of all realms?”

“Hmph, such nonsense! Since you refuse to yield and stubbornly cling to your views, do not blame me for abandoning past sentiment and meeting you in battle!”

Page (2/3)

With those words, Lan Yu drew her slender hand through the air, and a long sword appeared from nothing.

The blade was deep blue, five feet long, with rippling halos like water flowing across its surface—mysterious and strange. The edge was thin, shimmering with a soul-stealing azure. At the hilt, a sky-blue ribbon danced in the wind, adding a touch of ethereal grace.

“Vast heavens, founded on water; boundless earth, sourced from water; all things, rooted in water!”

Lan Yu’s lips parted, reciting these words as her fingers wove dozens of intricate seals.

“Release—the Seal of Heavenly Water Illusions: Open!”

As her voice fell, gentle blue light burst from the sword, enveloping the peak and sky above.

Snow melted into water, falling as fine rain; mist rose, adding to the otherworldly scene. The space around them seemed to ripple with watery patterns, shrouding all in a dreamlike haze.

“To summon the divine sword—Water Chant—and immediately unlock its ultimate seal, Lan Yu, you truly intend to kill me.” Hong Yan’s gaze flickered with regret as he regarded her in the rain, speaking in a low voice.

“For the sake of all living beings, I have no choice. Unless you surrender the manual, this cannot end peacefully.” Her words were tinged with sorrow, though her resolve did not waver.

Looking up, feeling the icy rain on his face, Hong Yan sighed deeply. “So, today’s matter cannot end well. A friendship spanning a hundred years, discarded for a single book—how tragic.”

With that, he turned to Lan Yu, the last warmth in his crimson eyes replaced by cold resolve.

“Mortal fire consumes all things; the fire of the three realms burns all beings; purgatory’s fire scorches the soul! Fire Cry Halberd, appear!”

As he chanted, Hong Yan summoned a flash of fire before him, which flared and transformed into a long halberd.

The halberd was eight feet long, blood-red, flickering with searing flames. A length of crimson chain hung from the hilt, wild and fierce.

The halberd hovered, circling before Hong Yan as if awaiting his command.

Upon summoning the Fire Cry Halberd, he wasted no time. His hands moved in a blur, forming countless seals as he intoned, “Release—the Seal of Heavenly Fire Illusions: Open!”

With the word “open,” flames surged skyward, dyeing the heavens red. All mist within a yard of Hong Yan vanished, and the temperature around Crimson Sword Peak soared.

On one side, white snow covered the world; on the other, flames raged.

“Lan Yu, now that we meet in battle, let us not waste words. Let us each unleash our strongest techniques and settle this in one blow.” His voice issued from the sea of fire.

Lan Yu sighed softly, replying only with action. She flicked her wrist, sending the Water Chant sword to hover overhead, then began forming complex seals. As the seals took shape, the surrounding white mist grew denser.

Seeing her move, Hong Yan gritted his teeth, the last traces of sorrow replaced by steely determination. His hands flew, forming profound seals, the flames beside him burning ever brighter.

“Spirit Rain Stream: Frost Rain Seal!”

“Divine Fire: Azure Flame Fall!”

Page (3/3)

Their voices rang out together, and the two divine weapons began to tremble violently, shining with overwhelming light.

Around the Water Chant sword, white mist rolled, gathering into a massive, snowy, ethereal handprint centered on the blade.

Beside the Fire Cry Halberd, red light surged up, forming a bloody, circular fireball centered on the halberd.

With a command, the handprint and fireball rushed at each other, each carrying immense force.

The giant handprint, trailing endless rain, collided with the blood-red fireball, whose tail blazed with flames.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Three deafening explosions followed, shaking the heavens, their force terrifying.

Mist surged upon the handprint, rain coalesced; fire rolled within the fireball, tongues of flame flickering.

At the point of contact, white and red light clashed, neither yielding. The space around them twisted visibly.

Both forces poured all their strength into consuming one another.

They held in stalemate for a moment, then, as if awakened, the handprint and fireball began to spread, wrapping around each other with blinding light, encroaching and eroding.

White mist entwined, fire light twisted; as red and white spread and intertwined, the handprint and fireball slowly dissolved, finally becoming tangled together.

Boom!

A thunderous explosion shook the heavens, as if the wrath of the gods themselves. The earth trembled in response.

The entwined mist and fire erupted outward, water vapor mingling with flame, rippling across the land.

Where they passed, rivers and forests perished, mountains shattered.

The explosion’s power was indescribably terrifying.

Long after, the fire and mist gradually faded, until all vanished, returning the world to silence.

Snowflakes continued to drift down, settling on the ravaged Crimson Sword Peak. Bitter winds howled, leaves rustling as if whispering secrets.

Three centuries of time slipped quietly away amidst the cold wind and falling snow.