She?

Jiang Chen, seeing everything unfold, felt as if all his suffering had been in vain.

What was the point of all that pain and torment if, in the end, he was just going to burn to ashes?

What was the point of the luck that had kept him alive all this time if it was going to abandon him at this crucial moment?

Well, luck was never meant to stay with just one person. It would leave eventually—that was the rule. Unless, of course, you were the protagonist.

Yes, protagonists—those fucking cockroaches. Why did they get all the luck in the world? Just like that bastard who framed Jiang Chen… If he were in this situation, countless cannon fodders would throw their lives away just to keep him alive. But what about me?

Fucking world… Haaah… Haaah…

Jiang Chen panted heavily, his breathing ragged. He was beginning to lose hope.

Rage and frustration could only take you so far. And once they were gone, when you finally opened your eyes… all that remained was despair. A road filled with thorns, paved with regret.

Jiang Chen accepted his fate—he would suffer and fade into nothingness.

But…

At that moment…

A single drop of viscous liquid fell onto his cheek from above.

Any liquid in this searing heat should have evaporated instantly.

But this drop did not burn. Even in this destructive inferno, it remained unaffected.

Then, more droplets followed.

They began to fall from the sky, scattering across his battered body.

Jiang Chen's skin was burning, his flesh charred, but the liquid did not evaporate. Instead, it spread over him, undisturbed by the searing heat.

Jiang Chen blinked in shock. He recognized the color—it was red, thick, and viscous.

As the liquid spread through his already bloodied body, a strange sensation overtook him.

Wherever the liquid touched, the burning ceased. The agonizing heat vanished.

Jiang Chen's breath hitched.

The flames… they stopped… 

The burning… it stopped… 

But how?

What was this miraculous liquid?

Summoning every ounce of strength left in his broken body, Jiang Chen forced his gaze upward.

And then…

His breath caught in his throat.

His eyes widened, bulging as if they would pop out of their sockets.

His mouth fell open in silent horror.

A sharp pain shot through his chest, like thousands of needles piercing his heart.

It was as if an invisible hand had seized his heart and was now squeezing it mercilessly.

A violent shudder ran through his body, from every bone to every organ, every cell.

He…roared...

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

M-Mas… Maste…

Wha…

The scene before him sent a chill down his spine, a horror deeper than any pain he had ever known.

A single thought crashed into his mind like a hammer.

He had thought that luck was on his side, that it was the reason he survived the reforging.

Was that really true?

When he tried to strangle himself to death… 

When he tried to cut off his air supply with spiritual energy, hoping to suffocate… 

When, in utter despair, he attempted to self-destruct by gathering all his remaining spiritual energy into his abdomen… 

But ,his every step to death was crushed like someone was protecting him...

He thought it was all just coincidence.

Was that really true?

When the pillar attacked him… 

Could he have survived an attack from the pillar that contained the origin fire, the very core of this realm? 

Could he? 

When the devouring force of the pillar was strong enough to consume everything in its path… 

Could he have survived that? 

Could he? 

When the pillar's shockwave spread, disintegrating everything in its wake, yet leaving him intact… 

When the vortex formed, its suction force so overwhelming that even the pillar itself was threatened… 

Could he, a mere cultivator with his measly cultivation, have survived that, even using all his power? 

Could he? 

The more Jiang Chen thought, the more his heart crumbled.

And the more his heart broke, the colder he felt inside.

The deeper that chill grew, the stronger his regret became.

He regretted taking his life for granted.

He regretted thinking it was all mere coincidence.

He regretted believing it was just.... luck.

He regretted assuming there was no one who would save him.

He regretted thinking that no one would be willing to die for him.

But was she a mere cannon fodder?

Jiang Chen saw her.

Zi Xia.

She was above the pillar of the realm—above him—at the very top.

She was burning.

Deep crimson flames engulfed her body, violent and raging.

Her treasured robe, once pristine, was nothing but ashes. Her bare skin was exposed, yet even that was burning, turning a ghastly shade of red.

Cracks—white-hot and terrifying—spread across her once-flawless body.

Her skin, which had once shone so brilliantly that even the heavens would bow before her radiance, was now marred by blood and fire.

Her eyes…

Her eyes blazed like a pair of infernal suns. Blood trickled from them, yet they never wavered.

Her mouth was open, screaming in agony—but no sound reached Jiang Chen.

Even through the unbearable pain, even as her body was consumed by flames, she looked at him.

And in those burning eyes, Jiang Chen saw it.

Love.

Care.

Unwavering, selfless devotion.

His heart shattered.

His body trembled violently as he stared at her.

A deep, unbearable hatred for himself welled up inside him.

He hated himself.

He hated himself so much that he felt sick.

That self-hatred turned into frustration.

His frustration burned until it became rage.

And this time, his rage was directed at himself.

Rage always burns both the one who is angry and the one they are angry at.

But in Jiang Chen's case, both of those people were him.

And so, he would bear the burn.

The only question left was— 

Would he burn himself to nothingness? 

Or would he burn the entire realm? 

That would be decided by the will he had long thought to be nonexistent.