Myth Beyond Heaven

The scene in front of everyone was apocalyptic.

Lin Xinyao materialized beside Yun Qianxue, lunar energy flickering erratically around her. “The city won’t hold. We need—”

“I know.” Yun Qianxue’s knuckles whitened around her sword hilt.

She turned to the gathered True Gods—Han Bingling’s frost spreading in desperate patterns, Shen Liqiu’s leaves withering as they tried to heal the air itself, Hei Yue’s darkness fraying at the edges.

“Everyone,” she commanded, her voice carrying the weight of glaciers, “converge on the Grand Array Platform.”

The platform thrummed as hundreds of cultivators poured their essence into the central formation. The air smelled of burning blood and desperation.

Yang Ningchang and Lynn worked in tandem—one warping space to reinforce the barriers, the other stabilizing the crumbling laws of physics. Their noses bled from the strain.

Long Feiyan’s dragon form coiled around the platform’s pillars, her golden scales peeling away like autumn leaves. “It’s not enough!” she roared.

Ye Ling moved through the crowd, her healing energy stitching wounds only for them to reopen moments later. The very concept of recovery was breaking down.

Then—

A sound like the world’s spine snapping.

The northern district vanished. Not destroyed. Not buried. Simply gone, as if it had never existed.

Screams rose—

And were cut short as another quarter disappeared.

Yun Qianxue’s sword glowed with the last dregs of her Chaos Goddess Sutra. Frost spread from her feet, crawling up the platform’s edges in a futile attempt to freeze time itself.

“Hold on!” she ordered, knowing it was hopeless.

A child clutched her mother’s robes as the woman’s legs dissolved into nothingness.

A master watched his disciple blink out of existence mid-prayer.

The sky was now more void than substance, a gaping maw swallowing creation itself.

It wasn’t just this place but across the Primal Chaos… The Primal Chaos was dying.

From the Northern Expanse’s frozen tundras to the Western Expanse’s molten seas, from the Eastern Expanse’s celestial forests to the Southern Expanse’s shattered heavens—reality itself was crumbling.

Stars winked out like extinguished candles. Entire realms dissolved into golden dust, their histories unwritten, their existences erased. Countless lives vanished mid-breath, their final screams lost to the void.

And in the Divine Realm—the last flickering ember of resistance—Yun Qianxue and her allies stood upon the Grand Array Platform, their bodies breaking under the weight of a dying universe.

Yue Hua, the ancient Priestess of the Moon, stepped forward. Her silver hair, once luminous as moonlight, now hung dull and lifeless. Her wrinkled hands trembled as she raised them to the sky.

“This is the calamity I foresaw,” she murmured, her voice carrying the weight of ten thousand prophecies. “There is no avoiding it now.”

Her gaze swept over the crumbling city, over the terrified faces of her people, and finally—over Hongyue.

The Red Moon Slaughter… No, the Red Moon Princess.

Her beloved princess.

Their eyes met.

For the first time in centuries, Hongyue’s crimson gaze held no hatred—only raw, desperate grief.

“Old woman—!” Hongyue’s voice cracked. “I won’t allow you to—!”

Yue Hua smiled.

A gentle, sorrowful smile.

“You were always a good child.”

Then—

She burned.

Moonlight erupted from her aged body, not as silver radiance, but as white fire—a conflagration of her very soul. The flames surged into the Grand Array, reinforcing the barrier for one last, desperate moment.

“NOOO!” Hongyue screamed in grief.

A sound so raw it tore through the battlefield louder than the collapsing heavens.

Lan Qinghe stepped forward next.

The Orchid Immortal, her green robes already half-dissolved into nothingness/

“Sen Lou…” Her voice was soft, almost peaceful. “I’ll see you soon.”

Then she, too, ignited her life essence.

Verdant flames—the last embers of her wood-element power—surged into the formation.

The roots beneath the platform writhed, grasping at the disintegrating earth as if to anchor the world itself.

For three more breaths, the city held.

Lin Yitong did not hesitate.

The inheritor of the True Wood Spirit swept her gaze over Yun Qianxue, Han Bingling, Shen Liqiu—over every surviving warrior on that platform.

“Hold on,” she whispered. “Wait for him.”

Then she looked up at the cracking sky, her jade-green eyes filled with sudden understanding.

“So this… was my purpose.”

Her body dissolved into emerald sparks, her essence merging with the Grand Array.

The barrier flared brighter.

For five more breaths, the crumbling slowed.

Li Shan, the ancient protector given a second life by Yun Lintian, laughed as his white hair caught fire.

“This old man has lived long enough!”

He turned to Yun Qianxue, his wrinkled face alight with golden flames.

“Tell Young Master Yun… this debt is repaid.”

His body burned away, his essence pouring into the formation like molten gold.

Lin Zixuan stood calmly amidst the chaos.

Her disciples—Jiang Yingyue, Murong Xue, Long Feiyan, Wu Qingcheng—all turned to her with tear-streaked faces.

“Master—!” Jiang Yingyue reached for her, but Lin Zixuan shook her head.

“This is my time,” she said softly, “I am proud to have raised all of you.”

She smiled.

“This life… was worth it.”

Then—

She was gone.

Only a wisp of sword intent remained, circling her weeping disciples like a final embrace.

“MASTER—!!” Jiang Yingyue and the others cried in grief.

At this moment, Master Bai—the White Owl Emperor—turned to Jin Huian, his eyes filled with unbearable tenderness.

“Well,” he said lightly, as if commenting on the weather, “seems it’s my turn to show off.”

Jin Huian, the Golden Crow God, grabbed his wrist before he could move.

“Together,” she said.

Master Bai’s composure shattered.

“No—!”

But Jin Huian was already burning, her crimson flames intertwining with his silver light.

“You stubborn woman! What have you done?!” Master Bai roared, even as his own essence ignited in response.

Jin Huian smiled and said softly. “What else? I just want to accompany you.”

“You—!” Master Bai wanted to scold her, but only a soft sigh escaped his mouth in the end.

Their entire bodies ignited.

They burned as one—gold and silver, sun and moon, two halves of the same soul.

SCREEECH—!

A gigantic Golden Crow appeared in the sky, letting out a piercing cry for one last time before dissipating into golden dust…

The Grand Array blazed with their combined power.

For ten more breaths, the city held.

… At least, for now.

“Seniors!”

Lin Xinyao and the others cried out as they watched their seniors burning themselves one after another.

Unfortunately, there was nothing they could do in this situation.

The entire world continued to crack. More and more stars and lives had turned into golden dust.

The calamity continued to descend, seemingly mocking the sacrifice Yue Hua and the others had just made…