Villains Aren't Stepping Stones!

The scorching winds of the primeval volcanic plains howled with the deafening shrieks of dying warriors and the violent crackle of boiling earth.

Thick plumes of sulfurous, black smoke rose into the copper-tinted sky, blotting out the harsh sun that hung over the wild subcontinent.

Below the scorched cliffs, rivers of molten stone poured relentlessly into the shattered valleys, hissing as they met the fleeing remnants of an ancient, primordial clan whose bodies were forged of living, shifting currents.

Huo Yue stood there, her crimson dress fluttered wildly against the blistering updrafts, the embroidery tracing the contours of her proud, voluptuous silhouette.

Beneath her boots, there stood a massive titan made out rocks and magma, its basalt joints grinding together with the force of an earthquake as rivers of liquid fire cascaded down its mountainous chest.

Eight years ago, she had been thrown out here in these foreign wilds, trapped by these Liquiders, with her flames completely suppressed.

She even almost died from drowning!

Now, the tables were violently turned.

Below her high vantage point, the warriors of the Sun Tribe swept through the crumbling settlements like an uncontainable wildfire.

The Liquiders found no solace in their water arts as the terrifying falmes of the Sun Tribe boiled their essence on contact, turning hundreds of them into shrieking clouds of scalding steam before cutting down the survivors without a shred of mercy.

Just then, a sudden, sharp vibration directly shook her breast, accompanied by the distinct, rhythmic pulse of spatial resonance.

Reaching into the deep neckline of her crimson silk robe, her slender fingers closed around her Academy Token which she pulled from the soft, fragrant crevice between her breasts, where it had been kept safe from the scouring heat of the volcanic plains.

She injected a strand of her qi into it, and the luminescent holographic screen flickered to life in the smoky air, projecting clean, pristine characters etched in imperial script.

It was a message sent to every students of the Imperial Academy by Haoran, calling out to them to gather and prepare for the final war.

A fierce, eager smile tugged at the corners of Huo Yue’s lips, her bright red eyes flashed with a burning, passionate brilliance.

After years of roaming these untamed savage lands, conquering wild tribes and cleansing past grudges, the true battle was finally being called.

Tucking the smooth jade token back into the warm sanctuary beneath her silk collar, she felt the crisp chill of the token settle against her skin once more.

And at that moment, the Chief of the Sun Tribe, Augusta appeared floating behind her.

There was no sound to her arrival, only the sudden, overwhelming intensification of solar heat that made the magma below bubble with renewed fury.

Huo Yue looked toward the distant northern horizon, where the fabric of the heavens felt heavy with the scent of an impending cosmic collision.

”Senior,” she said, her voice clear and resonant, carrying the dignity of an imperial cultivator. ”The debt between me and these people has been settled in blood and fire. But my fiance is calling for me. May I ask for your help one last time?”

Augusta did not scowl, nor did she demand tribute.

Looking upon the woman who had helped refused to be the successor of their god, she couldn’t help but sigh once more.

Oh how great would it be if she were to become their priestess.

”...Very well. I shall lend you a hand.”

*

*

*

At this moment, hundreds of thousands of miles away, in the heart of a boundless, twilight-shrouded jungle empire.

Zhu Ziyan sat on a stone throne.

The grand seat was hewn from a single, jagged monolith of ancient black stone, resting atop the apex of a colossal ziggurat that pierced through the emerald canopy of the primeval canopy.

She leaned back against the dark stone with lazy, predatory grace, one shapely, bare leg draped casually over the carved armrest, her long, silky black feline tail twitching with rhythmic, hypnotic poise against the granite steps.

Her two black cat ears, perched atop her glossy dark hair, stood perfectly erect, twitching with keen alertness as they picked up every whisper of the wind, every rustle of the trees, and the collective heartbeat of the empire arrayed at her feet.

The sprawling stone plaza below the ziggurat, stretching into the jungle for miles, was an endless sea of prostrated bodies.

Savage beast kin, green scaled lizardmen, shadow-stalking panther warriors, and countless woodland tribes lay flat on their stomachs, their foreheads pressed against the cool, mossy stone in absolute, fanatical devotion.

Bonfires of scented incense burned in massive iron braziers, filling the twilight air with fragrant purple smoke.

To them, this lethal, breathtaking woman from beyond the stars was not a mere cultivator; she was the living avatar of their Goddess, descended to unite their warring clans beneath a single, divine law.

And, at that moment, resting upon a small velvet cushion on the armrest beside her fingertips, the jade token hummed with a soft, pulsing azure resonance.

Zhu Ziyan raised a slender hand, lightly tapping the surface of the cold plaque with her finger, and the luminous projection flickered into being, casting a cool blue glow across her striking, feline features.

Her pupils contracted as she read Shen Xun’er’s message, taking in the young master’s decree.

A low, deep purr vibrated in the back of her throat, carrying a lethal mixture of excitement and bloodlust.

The period of quiet reign, of playing god among these primitive beasts, was officially over.

Finally, she stood up.

Her movement was effortless, a masterpiece of fluid, lethal grace.

The flowing black silks of her queenly dress slid around her ankles like liquid night as she strode to the edge of the ziggurat’s highest platform.

The twilight breeze caught her dark hair, whipping it back to reveal a face cold, cruel, and radiating supremacy.

She looked down upon the hundreds of thousands of bowed heads, and her voice echoed out—not with the soft murmur of a maiden, but with an earth-shattering, soul-shaking command that resonated directly through the spiritual leylines of the jungle.

”My loyal subjects, your Queen now commands you!”

Her words swept across the vast plaza, commanding absolute, petrified silence from the multitude.

”Take up your weapons, and follow me to the battlefield!”

ROAAARRRR!

A roar shook the heavens!

Hundreds of thousands of warriors leaped to their feet in unison, their iron-tipped spears, jagged bone cleavers, and heavy obsidian axes thrust high into the darkening sky!

The primal, unified battle cry of a hundred savage tribes detonated like a cluster of thunderbolts, shattering the cloud canopy and causing the ancient trees of the continent to tremble to their very roots.

War drums carved from the hollowed bellies of primeval beasts began their thunderous cadence, signaling the march of an untamed army ready to march off the edge of the world at her word.

*

*

*

At this moment, in a small bamboo hut in the middle of a bamboo forest.

Draped in pristine, pale-lavender robes that matched the quiet, melancholic beauty of her eyes, Luo Mingye carefully packed her travel satchel.

Her slender, calloused fingertips gently traced the seven silk strings of her ancient wooden zither, ensuring that not a single speck of dust marred the polished wood before wrapping it in velvet and strapping it securely across her back.

Her movements were meticulous, slow, and solemn, carrying the weight of someone who knew that once she stepped out of this sanctuary, her music would no longer be practiced for the ears of immortals, but to cut down armies.

The Goddess of Music, Enheduanna hovered inches above the ground, her presence so sublime that she seemed woven from the very concept of resonance.

Her hair was a cascading waterfall of vibrating light, and her garments were gossamer veils that shifted in hue with every harmonic frequency of the universe.

In her hands, she held an ancient lyre carved from celestial bone, her sorrowful eyes gazing at the mortal girl who had surpassed every trial set before her.

”Must you depart now, little one?” the goddess’s voice asked, echoing like the pure, lingering chord of a harp struck beneath a starlit sky. ”The secrets of the Primordial Hymn are boundless. Here, you could have attained eternal harmony, untainted by the blood and decay of the mortal cosmos.”

And Luo Mingye nodded.

There was no hesitation in her gentle, quiet demeanor.

The academy token tied to her sash had ceased its vibration, but its warmth still pressed against her hip, a constant reminder of where her true loyalty and devotion lay.

She had not sought out the divine heritage of the ancient goddess for the sake of attaining godhood; she had pursued the supreme Dao of sound solely to ensure that her zither could stand beside him.

Just then, dropping to her knees, Luo Mingye pressed her palms flat against the cold stone and lowered her forehead three times in deep, heartfelt veneration.

”Disciple Luo Mingye offers her eternal gratitude,” she whispered, her voice soft yet firm. ”You granted me sight beyond the physical realm, taught me to hear the breathing of the stars, and refined my heart into an unyielding instrument. This grace, I shall never forget in ten thousand lifetimes.”

She stood up, and walked without turning back.

Her slender silhouette strode toward the edge of the bamboo forest, leading back into the turbulent reality of the lower world.

Her posture was straight, the zither upon her back resting quiet and steady, her steps rhythmic and devoid of any lingering regret.

A long, soft exhale escaped the lips of the music goddess, carrying a faint, beautiful chord of melancholy that rippled across the waters of the lake.

She had witnessed countless mortals enter her domain seeking power, but this girl was different; she was an instrument tuned entirely to the song of a solitary man.

With a gentle sweep of her radiant fingers across her bone lyre, Enheduanna whispered her final divine blessing into the parting mist.

”May your music reach the heart of the man you love.”

*

*

*

Deep beneath the bedrock of the southernmost abyss, the stagnant air of the subterranean tomb reeked of ancient sulfur, calcified bone, and primeval malice.

For countless years, this forgotten pocket of the lower realm had remained entombed in total, lightless suffocating darkness, sealed away and anchored deep into the tectonic mantle of the earth.

Now, those seals lay shattered into glowing, rusted slag across the cavern floor.

And Ivaraune, the Demon God, had finally broken from free.

Perched atop the jagged plate of the demon god’s colossal right shoulder, the two women looked down into the abyssal gloom with cold, arrogant amusement.

Gu Xunyi’s dark violet robes whipped violently in the turbulent updrafts of rising fiendish qi, her purple shimmering against the pitch-black scales of the beast beneath her boots.

Beside her, Ning Xueli’s eyes danced with sadistic glee as her slender fingers traced the jagged demonic spikes protruding from Ivaraune’s neck.

Beneath them, the colossal beast thrummed with apocalyptic vitality.

Looking down at the smoldering ruins of the ancient subterranean altar, Gu Xunyi threw her head back, her melodious laughter echoing through the cavern like silver bells soaked in venom.

”How long have you slept in this filthy ditch, old fiend?” Gu Xunyi laughed, her voice carrying an intoxicating, haughty edge that cut straight through the low hum of demonic energy. ”Countless years of death, while the insects above divided your lands and erased your bloodline from their histories! Tell me, are you ready to tear their skies apart? Are you ready to wreck havoc and make the world fear your name once more?!”

”Those hypocritical sacred grounds and self-proclaimed righteous clans have grown fat and complacent in your absence,” Ning Xueli added with a cold, mocking smirk, her foot lightly tapping the demon’s jagged collarbone. ”They believe ancient terrors like you only exist in nursery rhymes to scare children. Let us see if their brittle mountain gates can withstand a single sweep of your claws!”

A volcanic, suffocating resonance vibrated deep within Ivaraune’s gargantuan chest.

His eyes ignited within the darkness. The ancient beast’s blood, frozen for countless millennia beneath the cold stone, began to boil like an erupting cauldron.

The humiliation of his ancient sealing, the endless darkness, the insatiable hunger for the flesh and souls of the living—it all detonated within his consciousness in a single, cataclysmic burst of primeval savagery!

ROOOOOAAARRRRRRRRRRRRR!

The roar was not a mere sound; it was a physical shockwave of compressed demonic fury that shattered the laws of the surrounding space!

The vaulted ceilings of the ancient subterranean tomb, miles thick with solid granite and spirit-suppressing ironwood roots, cracked instantly under the sonic pressure!

Massive boulders weighing tens of thousands of tons rained down like autumn hail, only to be disintegrated into fine, burning ash the moment they touched the blazing violet aura radiating from his mountainous frame!

Bracing his colossal, clawed hands against the subterranean bedrock, Ivaraune threw his mountainous back upward!

CRACK! KABOOOOM!

The subterranean tectonic shelf violently sheared in half!

A catastrophic fissure, tens of miles wide and tearing across the entire southern mountain range, ripped open with the screech of dying stone!

Billions of tons of earth, ancient burial grounds, underground rivers, and primordial granite were forcefully blasted aside, thrown thousands of feet into the air as the ancient titan stood straight to his full, terrifying height!

Finally, after years of suffocating, lightless imprisonment, the vast, open vault of heaven stretched before Ivaraune’s burning gaze.

The clean, unrefined mountain wind rushed into the gaping chasm, sweeping away the stale dust of millennia and whipping the fiery violet mane along the demon’s spine.

The ambient sunlight struck his midnight scales, hissing with the sharp sizzle of ancient fiendish miasma meeting pure daylight.

Above, the sky of the mortal realm had never looked so fragile.

Standing tall upon his shoulder, unbothered by the cataclysmic destruction unfolding beneath their boots, Gu Xunyi raised a single, pale, slender arm toward the northern firmament.

The Academy Token hanging at her waist pulsed with the azure light of Shen Haoran’s final decree, pointing the way toward the gathering storm where the Rising Dragon Sect and the remnants of the lower world’s resistance were desperately fortifying their gates.

”Go.”

With an earth-shattering stomp that leveled the surrounding mountain ridges into a sea of dust, Ivaraune unfurled two colossal, membranous wings of pure, burning shadow that spanned three hundred meters across the sky, launching his gargantuan body into the clouds to bring ruin upon the world once more.