The wind whispered like ghosts through the forest of the Lower Realm.
Twisted trees loomed like skeletal arms, their blackened bark flaking under the weight of age and decay. The soil beneath was cold and damp, soaked not with water, but with centuries of dried blood and forgotten bones. Foul fog drifted between the trunks, swirling like memories that refused to die.
In this cursed place, where light dared not linger, a lone figure stood — unmoving.
Xuan Long.
His once royal robes were tattered beyond recognition, clinging to his frame like torn shadows. His long black hair hung in wild strands over his face, matted with blood and dirt. But it was his eyes that struck fear into the silence — dimly glowing red, like coals that refused to die.
His body was whole again.
But inside… he was still broken.
His father's proud smile.
His mother's soft voice.
His siblings' laughter.
Gone.
Ripped away.
Burned into his memory like a curse he could never escape.
And yet, he remained standing.
Because the world… had made a mistake.
[Invincible Revenge System]
Status: Activated
Core Skill: Heavenly Mirror: Devour
▸ Devours any direct attack and reflects it back at the attacker with identical force and intent.
▸ No cultivation possible
▸ No energy gain from kills
▸ No evolution
➤ You do not grow stronger.
➤ You are simply untouchable.
Xuan Long looked at his hands. No energy flowed through them. No qi swirled in his dantian. He felt… empty. But not helpless.
"I don't cultivate."
"I don't evolve."
"I simply… reflect."
His voice was calm. Cold. A whisper spoken to the dead trees around him, as if daring the forest to respond.
The silence answered.
Then—
A low growl.
Sharp. Hungry.
From the thickest patch of darkness, a creature emerged. Its silver fur shimmered beneath the fog, every step calculated, every breath filled with killing intent.
A Steel-Fanged Night Wolf — taller than a horse, its jaw lined with iron-like teeth. Its golden eyes locked onto Xuan Long's exposed neck.
No hesitation.
It pounced.
SLASH!
Its claws descended, glowing faintly with spiritual energy. Enough to rip through stone — enough to dismember a man in a single strike.
But they didn't cut.
They didn't even touch him.
The air around Xuan Long shimmered — like light bending off glass.
Like a mirror.
[DING — Devour Activated: Reflecting Attack]
In a fraction of a breath, the exact force the beast had used — its rage, power, and momentum — was swallowed.
Then reversed.
CRACK!
The wolf's own strength slammed into its body.
Its ribs shattered with a sickening crunch. The beast yelped, crashing sideways into a jagged rock. Blood sprayed from its mouth, staining the dirt.
Xuan Long didn't move.
Not a step.
Not a blink.
He stood there — robes flapping gently in the wind, eyes fixed on the twitching creature.
Expressionless.
"This skill… reflects what I receive."
He stepped forward.
"Nothing more. Nothing less."
The beast whimpered. Tried to crawl away.
But Xuan Long showed no pity.
He kneeled beside it, his knees sinking into the blood-soaked earth. His hand reached for its fur. Not gently. Not cruelly. Just… mechanically.
And without a word, he began tearing its flesh.
He didn't devour it for energy. He didn't absorb it for growth.
He simply ate — raw and steaming — to survive.
The wind howled again, rustling the dead leaves.
The trees watched silently, as if acknowledging his rebirth.
"So this is my path."
He wiped the blood from his mouth, staring at his reflection in a puddle. For a moment, he didn't recognize the man staring back.
His eyes were too calm.
His face… too quiet.
"I can't grow stronger. I can't ascend stages. I can't cultivate like the others."
He clenched his fist slowly.
The skin around his knuckles split — but healed just as quickly.
"But if someone dares to strike me… they will suffer the exact pain they give."
No more, no less.
Justice in its rawest form.
He rose to his feet, the fog curling around him like a crown of shadows.
He looked up at the sky — or rather, the gray, clouded void that stretched above the Lower Realm like a lid trapping all hope inside.
"Five nations…"
His voice trembled, not with weakness — but with suppressed fury.
"Corrupt ministers…"
His nails dug into his palm, drawing fresh blood.
"You all sent me here to die."
A pause.
A breath.
His eyes sharpened.
"But I am not dead."
"I am the mirror that reflects your sins."
The forest responded with silence.
As if the realm itself acknowledged the birth of something it could not comprehend.
He turned his back on the bleeding corpse of the wolf, not sparing it another glance. His bare feet stepped over roots and bones, one slow step after another, like a wraith reborn.
The Lower Realm was vast.
Filled with beasts that would test him.
Monsters that would strike him.
But each one would teach him something:
How pain felt.
How strength tasted.
And how vengeance would bloom.
He didn't need to cultivate.
He didn't need to evolve.
All he needed… was for someone to dare hurt him.
And they would break by their own strength.
As the mists thickened and the path ahead darkened, Xuan Long did not hesitate.
He walked forward.
To bleed.
To suffer.
To survive.
To reflect.
And to return.