Villains Aren't Stepping Stones!

Chapter 1: Chapter 1: Prime Origin Realm

Prime Origin Realm.

A realm vast beyond measure. It was said that even after billions of years, not a single force had mapped its full size.

Mountains taller than skies, oceans deeper than abysses, and forbidden zones that devoured entire dynasties without leaving a trace.

Around it, thousands of lesser realms existed, bound as tributaries.

They offered resources, talent, and loyalty, or they were erased.

Its history stretched to the earliest cycles of creation.

Ancient records spoke of the First Emperors, beings who carved the primal laws into order, establishing the framework of cultivation.

Countless eras rose and fell since then.

Dynasties of immortals perished, sects that once ruled the heavens vanished, but the realm endured.

The Prime Origin Realm was not ruled by a single hand.

Instead, countless powers shared dominion. Immortal clans, divine sects, forbidden races, and wandering supremes each held their own territory.

Their struggles shaped the destiny of the realm. The greatest among them were said to stand at the level of Supreme Emperor, beings who could suppress entire worlds with a thought.

In this world, cultivation determined all.

From the first step of Body Refinement to temper the flesh, to Qi Gathering that laid the foundation of energy, to Foundation Establishment where one rooted their path.

Then Core Formation birthed power, Golden Core stabilized it, and Nascent Soul gave one an immortal seed of spirit.

Those who reached Spirit Ascension transcended mortality, Nirvana Rebirth shattered old shackles, and the ranks of Saints—Profound, Earthly, Heavenly—stood as pillars of the cosmos.

Above them all was the Supreme Emperor, a title not given, but earned by slaughtering peers and proving the Dao through invincibility.

In this realm, weak lives flickered like candles, and only the strong carved their names into eternity.

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Emperor Burial Continent, one of the countless continents of Prime Origin Realm.

Tian Yuan Empire.

Shen Immortal Clan.

That was a name that resounded across the ages, a shadow looming long before the foundation of Tian Yuan empire ever took root.

When the first Tian Yuan emperor carved his domains with blood and luck, the Shen had already stood tall for countless generations, their roots sunk deep into the marrow of heaven and earth.

Unlike fleeting clans and sects that rose and fell with fortune, the Shen Clan endured.

Their foundation was vast and unfathomable, as if every generation of Shen only added more layers to a mountain whose peak could no longer be seen.

Within their ancestral land stood immortal mountains cloaked in mist, forbidden groves where even Saints dared not tread, and ancestral halls where the portraits of long-departed ancestors emanated dao pressure that could crush ordinary cultivators to dust.

Their influence was terrifyingly vast.

The court ministers who dictated imperial policy, the aristocratic families who controlled land and resources, the generals who commanded legions, and even the scholars who shaped the thought of generations—many bore the surname Shen or were tied to them by blood or oath.

When one spoke of the Empire’s backbone, half of it was Shen blood.

One can even say, if they wanted to, they can form their own empire, or even take the throne themselves.

You might ask, why didn’t they do it? Why do they remain, at least outwardly, subservient to the empire?

And not only them, many sects and clans possessed power to completely form their own empire or overthrow an empire, but they never did.

Why is this?

The simple reason, is luck.

Empires rise not only on strength but on luck, the invisible tide of fate that shields a throne and its ruler.

When a cultivator becomes an Emperor and founds an empire, they bind themselves to the destiny of the land and its people.

This grants immense advantages, but also chains them in ways free cultivators or sects never face.

Luck has many advantages, with the weight of millions of subjects fueling their destiny, emperors encounter fewer bottlenecks.

Where lone cultivators risk failure and deviation, emperors advance steadily.

Luck also bends the world in their favor. Rare artifacts, divine herbs, and dao treasures surface more often within their domain. Many ”coincidences” are the pull of imperial destiny.

The empire itself becomes a shield. Natural disasters are diverted, hostile sects suffer misfortune when invading, and even dao backlash is softened by the accumulated fate of the people.

Bloodlines touched by imperial luck are often gifted with higher talent, ensuring continuity of the throne.

One can say, once you founded your own empire, you are bound to be prosperous.

However, it also comes with many restrictions that many clans and sects doesn’t want to deal with.

The Emperor is tied to their subjects. If the empire prospers, so does the ruler. If famine, rebellion, or plague spreads, the emperor’s luck withers, their cultivation weakens, and their dao falters.

Not to mention empire’s dao path is also restricted. An emperor can rarely pursue wild, extreme, or heretical daos, for the empire rejects it. Their cultivation must align with rulership, order, or stability.

And unlike sect masters who wander to seek fortune, emperors are tied to their land. To leave their empire for long risks breaking the connection with destiny, leaving them vulnerable.

So although Imperial luck protects the empire, it also suppresses it.

It shields from failure but makes it harder to touch the true extremes of dao. Thus, while empires breed many strong emperors, they rarely produce those who can suppress an era.

And it is also extremely hard to form an empire as one must gather immense population and territory, then bear the crushing responsibility of destiny.

Few clans sects want such chains.

However, submission allows them to enjoy imperial luck’s protection without carrying the burden.

Most of them trade autonomy for safety and prosperity.

And also, rebellion against an empire is dangerous. Fate tilts against those who defy the throne, unless they themselves carry equal or greater destiny.

This balance is why sects often rule in shadows, cultivating peerless individuals, while empires dominate the open world, bound to destiny but sheltered by it.

These are some of the reasons why the Shen Immortal Clan never sought the throne.

Why chain themselves to the empire’s fragile fate when their clan stood above such temporal constructs?

Empires lived and died with luck, but the Shen cultivated eternity. Their path was not bound by the will of common people but by their own dao.

It was said that within the clan’s depths slumbered beings whose cultivation had already transcended the known realms, guardians who awoke only when the clan’s existence was threatened.

The current head of the Shen Clan was already a Heavenly Saint, but whispers claimed that the true clan ancestor had stepped into realms beyond even Supreme Emperors, a figure who had witnessed the rise and fall of countless dynasties.

That’s why, the emperors of every age never forgot to bow in caution whenever the name Shen was spoken.

And at this moment, on Boundless Sky Peak, one of the thousand peaks of Shen Immortal Mountain Range.

The roar of the waterfall echoed like thunder, spraying mist that veiled the world in silver. Beneath its crushing force sat a young man, unmoving, his body as steady as an ancient mountain.

His hair was short, golden like strands of sunlight, catching the glimmer of water as it streamed down.

His face was sharp yet refined, every feature carved with symmetry, as though the heavens themselves had sculpted him with care.

His eyes were closed, but even in stillness there was a faint majesty, a sense that once those eyes opened, they would pierce through heaven and earth.

He wore a white robe, pure and simple, yet untouched by the torrent above him.

The waterfall pounded down with enough force to shatter stone, but it broke upon his shoulders like waves against an immovable cliff.

The water did not soil him, instead flowing away as if unwilling to mar his presence.

His chest rose and fell in slow rhythm, each breath drawing in the surrounding spiritual qi, fusing it into his body, until the very air seemed to hum with his cultivation.

The aura around him shifted between calm serenity and sharp dominance, as if he were a sword hidden in its sheath, suppressing its edge but ready to cut the world once revealed.

At that moment, he was not merely a youth in cultivation. He was a figure of promise, the kind of man destined to leave his mark across mountains, rivers, and dynasties.

Just then, the silence of the mountain shattered.

With a sudden tremor, the waterfall split down the middle, the torrent of water forced apart by an invisible might.

Mist swirled into a vortex as an overwhelming aura surged forth, shaking the trees, bending the stones, and causing the river below to roar in chaos.

The young man opened his eyes. Golden light flashed like twin suns, piercing through the veil of water and clouds.

His white robe fluttered despite the lack of wind, his short blond hair gleaming under the spray of light. Every inch of his body radiated the brilliance of someone who had stepped beyond the limits of mortal cultivation.

He had broken through.

The first stage of the Golden Core realm.

One should know, he was only twenty years old this year. Across the continent, those praised as prodigies struggled to reach Foundation Establishment at his age.

Even the so-called cultivation monsters, nurtured by ancient clans and great sects, were only beginning to touch Core Formation.

Yet he stood here, not merely surpassing them, but leaving them in the dust.

In some third-rate sects, his current cultivation was already enough to be revered as an ancestor.

A protector of generations, a figure who would only be summoned in times of life and death.

But to him, this was only the beginning.

The world had yet to realize that the rise of this youth would shake dynasties, sects, and empires alike.