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descend of the Chaos God

Crimson rain is the norm, the tang of iron a constant companion. In the Martial Spirit World, survival is a brutal song, sung by the strong over the broken bodies of the weak. This island-born boy, Bai Yu, harbors a dream that strains against the shackles of his small world. His path? Not the fisherman's life his fate seems to prescribe, but a climb so steep, so treacherous, it leads straight to the thrones of the gods. Will his ascent be paved with the blood of his enemies, or can he forge a different path in this unforgiving realm?

Chaos_Immortal25 · ตะวันออก
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120 Chs

Invasion

A cool salt breeze ruffled the long black hair of Bai Yu as he stood on the cliff edge, overlooking the endless expanse of the Azure Sea. At sixteen, he was already considered a prodigy on Blue Tempest Island, a small speck of civilization near the desolate Southern Wasteland Continent. With his pale face and sharp features, he possessed a quiet handsomeness that often drew curious glances. But today, a furrow etched itself between his brows, casting a shadow over his obsidian eyes.

Despite being the Young Master of the powerful Bai Clan, and his father, Patriarch Bai, ruling as one of the island's five strongest cultivators at the Xiantian Realm, a gnawing frustration clung to Bai Yu. He had reached the Blood Condensation Stage at the age of sixteen, a respectable feat for the Blue Tempest Island standards where Xiantian Realm was the peak. However, tales of prodigies reaching the Xiantian Realm in their youth on the Central Plains Continent filled him with a burning ambition.

Blue Tempest Island was located near the Southern Wasteland Continent. Although the Southern Wasteland Continent offered a better environment than the Island, it couldn't even compare to the Central Plains Continent.

Blue Tempest Island offered limited resources for cultivation, and while his father nurtured him with the best the island could provide, Bai Yu yearned for more. He dreamt of joining a prestigious sect on the Central Plains, where the air crackled with spiritual energy, and powerful mentors could guide him to unlock his true potential. Yet, the journey was perilous, and the Southern Wasteland's treacherous seas held dangers even for seasoned cultivators.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and red, Bai Yu sheathed his practice sword. Its worn leather handle, a familiar weight in his hand, symbolized the years of dedication he had poured into swordsmanship. Still, a yearning for a different path, a yearning to push his body and spirit beyond the limitations of the island, flickered within him.