---
Above the Nine Provinces, where air no longer stirred and the winds had names, a golden platform hovered amidst drifting clouds.
On it stood a throne.
And on that throne sat no one.
But that did not mean it was unoccupied.
The Heavenly Mandate had no physical form.
It was presence. Law. Weight. A will old enough to have forgotten its origin.
Before it knelt seven Immortal Envoys, each bound by oaths carved into their very spirits. Their faces were hidden behind golden veils. Their mouths never moved. But their thoughts echoed.
> "The Hollow Vessel devoured binding chains within the dream realm."
"The Chain-Heir failed."
"The Maw stirs."
"Shall the Judgment be cast?"
A long silence followed.
Then—
A crack split the clouds.
Light didn't shine through.
Instead, it whispered: "No."
> "Let him rise."
"He must reach the threshold before we judge him."
"Only at his peak… can he be broken."
The Immortal Envoys lowered their heads.
Far below, in the mortal realm…
Yun Mu opened his eyes.
---
It had been three days since the dream duel.
Ironcloud Sect was quiet—but not peaceful. Whispers had begun to spread: strange winds, shattered jade mirrors, birds flying backwards, black water in the spirit wells.
Signs of a coming calamity.
And at the center of it all: Yun Mu.
Su Xiren hadn't spoken much since the dream. Her soul had taken a wound. But more than that—she had seen something. A shadow behind Yun Mu's path. Something even the Fate Lotus couldn't read.
He sat cross-legged in the meditation chamber.
But meditation eluded him.
Because something was growing inside him.
Not a new power.
But a presence.
It was like being watched from inside your own skin.
And the whispers… never stopped.
> "Heaven has not chosen you."
"So steal its right."
"Devour the Mandate."
---
That evening, he was summoned.
Ironcloud Grand Elder Tian Huo—a quiet, ancient cultivator who hadn't left his cavern in over thirty years—had called him.
Yun Mu followed a jade-robed guide through the inner sect's deepest tunnels. Torches burned with silent fire. Stone tablets lined the walls, each inscribed with the sect's ancestral deeds.
When he entered the final chamber, the air grew heavy.
This was a domain.
A personal realm carved into the world itself.
Elder Tian Huo sat in lotus position atop a black slab of cloudsteel. His beard reached the floor. His eyes glowed dimly, not with cultivation… but with exhaustion. Like someone who had fought Heaven for too long.
He gestured for Yun Mu to sit.
"You remind me of someone," the elder said, voice like wind over stone.
"Who?" Yun Mu asked.
The elder opened a small wooden box.
Inside was a broken spirit token, etched with the symbol of a spiral devouring a star.
"His name was Yu Wanshi. The first Hollow cultivator in our records. Lived five hundred years ago. He reached Dao Lord realm… and vanished."
He passed the token to Yun Mu.
"This is his last remnant. We thought the path died with him."
"It didn't," Yun Mu said quietly.
"No. It waited."
The elder leaned closer.
"Do you know why the Hollow Path is forbidden?"
"Because it devours," Yun Mu replied.
"No," Tian Huo said. "Because it devours what Heaven cannot control."
He tapped the floor.
A formation lit up—a sealed mural of ancient battles.
It showed the First Maw, in the form of a man cloaked in starlight, ripping banners from the sky.
> "He didn't want to ascend," the elder said.
"He wanted to bring Heaven down to his level."
"And he failed?"
"No," Tian Huo whispered. "He succeeded. For three days, the Heavenly Laws stopped working. Fire didn't burn. Time froze. Spirit roots withered. It took all the Immortal Realms to bind him."
He looked Yun Mu in the eye.
"You walk the same road."
"Will you stop me?" Yun Mu asked.
The elder smiled faintly.
"I'm too old to try. But I'll give you a warning: The higher you climb, the harder Heaven will push back."
"Let it," Yun Mu said.
---
That night, Su Xiren sat beside him in the courtyard. The moon was a sliver. The stars distant.
"I read your fate again," she murmured.
"And?"
"There's a new thread. One that never existed before."
He didn't answer.
She hesitated, then reached into her sleeve again.
A lotus petal. Black this time. Burned on the edges.
"I saw a vision," she said.
"What did you see?"
She looked at him—eyes full of fear and belief.
> "You… standing alone atop a mountain of corpses. Holding the sky down with your hands. And shouting three words."
"What words?"
> "Heaven's mandate is not yours."
---
Far away, Ji Shen knelt in a blood circle. His six chains twitched, scarred and unstable.
A woman watched him from the shadows.
She wore a crown of bone and eyes sewn shut.
"Failed again?" she asked.
Ji Shen gritted his teeth.
"He consumed my chains. I was not prepared."
She stepped closer.
"Then prepare. You know what the scriptures say."
He nodded slowly.
"The Hollow cannot devour what does not belong to him."
She nodded.
"So give him something that isn't his."
Ji Shen raised a hand.
A seventh chain slithered out.
It was different.
Twisting. Smoking. Crying.
> It was forged from regret.