The sun shone high above the quiet forest trail, casting soft golden rays through the canopy. Birds chirped, the scent of wildflowers danced in the air, and everything appeared unusually peaceful. Almost too peaceful.
"Zhenhai! Zhenhai! Give me back my buns!" Fenglan chased after his twin, his sleeves flapping like banners. "Those were mine!"
Zhenhai jogged backward, both hands clutching the sticky rice buns. "Yours? I got to them first! Besides, you're the one who was busy plucking your eyebrows this morning."
"I was fixing them! Presentation matters!" Fenglan huffed dramatically, then tripped over a stone and fell face-first into a bush.
Everyone laughed. Even Fenglie, who usually wore a permanent scowl, gave a small amused snort.
Mo Tianzun smiled faintly at the chaos, but his mind was elsewhere. As the group continued toward their next destination, the Village of Whispering Mirrors now behind them, a quiet pressure throbbed beneath his ribs. Every step he took sent sharp flickers of qi spasming through his veins.
His fingers twitched. Hidden beneath the long sleeves of his robe, faint silver cracks had begun forming along his forearms like lightning etched into flesh. He took a deep breath, calming his inner sea, trying to suppress it. But his control was slipping.
And worse yet—
[Error.]
The System's voice echoed faintly in his mind.
[Fragmented host consciousness. Core synchronization unstable. Demonic origin recognized. Adjusting protocols... Failed.]
He winced. A flicker of golden light sparked along his spine, followed by a rush of cold.
"Tianzun?" Longxuan walked up beside him, tilting his head with that same gentle concern he always wore around him. "You okay? You look pale."
Mo Tianzun quickly schooled his expression. "Just thinking about how I should've taken more buns earlier."
Longxuan chuckled, brushing his knuckles against Tianzun's. "Next time, I'll save you three."
Mo Tianzun only smiled, but inside, the burning in his dantian pulsed again.
They reached a ridge that overlooked the next valley, the view opening into a sea of clouds tinged with violet light. The wind brushed past their robes. Fenglan posed dramatically against a rock. "Ah, to be a noble hero under the heavens, admired by all, feared by demons!" he declared.
"Feared because you smell like pickled garlic," Zhenhai muttered.
Everyone laughed again. Mo Tianzun managed a chuckle, but the corners of his vision blurred. His raven hair, began fading—a few strands at his temple shimmered white. He reached up and tugged his hood closer.
He couldn't let them know. Not yet. Especially not Longxuan.
—————
Far from the forest, at a mountain carved with ancient glyphs, the air twisted with power.
Inside a grand celestial hall of obsidian and ice, Liu Shengjie stood before a circle of ethereal beings—gods bound to duty and ego. Their voices whispered, echoing like the wind through tombs.
"So," Shengjie said, voice calm but taut with venom, "Mo Tianzun lives."
The gods stirred. One, with a helm made of starlight, stepped forward. "You were sure he was dead."
"I was sure," Shengjie snapped, pacing. "Until a love demon—a pathetic, groveling thing—whispered what it sensed. Demonic qi. Faint. Hidden. But it was him. Surrounded by mortals. By Longxuanand other pathetic friends of him"
He clenched his fist, blood dripping from his palm. The air darkened.
"So you failed," said another god lazily, lounging on a cloud throne.
"I did not fail. I planned for many things," Shengjie growled, his aura flaring crimson. "But love? I underestimated that weakness."
He turned to the pantheon. "I need your power. With it, we can draw him out. Force him to break the mortal chains around him. When he does—"
He smiled coldly. "He'll either fall again. Or I will rise above the heavens."
The gods murmured. One leaned forward. "What do you want us to do?"
Shengjie looked out beyond the mountain. "Send a trial. Something strong enough to test him. Let him reveal himself."
As he spoke, a mirror behind him shimmered—revealing Mo Tianzun and his companions walking, laughing, completely unaware.
Shengjie stared, his golden eyes narrowed. "Play your part well, Mo Tianzun. Because this time, I'll actually win for real."
—————
Back on the road, the sun began to set, bathing everything in soft gold.
Mo Tianzun leaned against a tree, watching Longxuan play with some village children using illusionary butterflies. His smile was real, warm, and alive.
And Mo Tianzun knew—he would protect that light, even if the cracks in him grew deeper.
Even if his power turned against him.
Even if the heavens themselves tried to drag him down.
He would fight.
Because now he had something to protect.
And he would never lose it again.