Qing Chen stood atop a floating rock, his figure solitary against the vast, stormy heavens. His right hand clenched his spear tightly, its tip trembling slightly—not from fear, but from the sheer pressure of the four divine projections before him. Each celestial form radiated a distinct aura, their hands pressed together in a solemn, Buddha-like gesture, as if passing judgment on a defiant mortal.
Blood trickled from the corner of Qing Chen's mouth, a stark contrast to his pale complexion. His breath was ragged, yet his eyes burned with unyielding defiance. His grip on the spear tightened, knuckles whitening, the veins in his arm bulging with barely restrained fury. The air around him crackled with suppressed energy.
The green projection, the first among the gods, narrowed his luminous eyes and spoke in a voice that rumbled like distant thunder.
"Saint Qing, you remain as defiant as ever. You violated the laws of Ascension, daring to defy the heavenly order for the sake of a mere woman."
Qing Chen's pupils contracted as rage flared within him. He lifted his spear, pointing its glistening tip directly at the celestial figures, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.
"A mere woman?" His voice, though hoarse, carried the weight of mountains. "She was the love of my life! You denied her reincarnation, condemned her soul to oblivion under the guise of Heaven's will. Hypocrites! If Heaven will not right this injustice, then I, Qing Chen, shall carve a new path and rewrite the laws myself!"
A mocking chuckle echoed through the void as the purple projection, a goddess draped in ethereal robes, tilted her head with amusement.
"In your current condition?" she sneered, her voice like a blade laced with poison. "You can barely lift that spear. You're drenched in blood, standing on the precipice of death. Why not surrender? Accept your punishment. Destroy your cultivation and kneel before us. You have no chance."
Qing Chen gritted his teeth, his chest rising and falling with the weight of his fury. But then, unexpectedly, he chuckled—a low, dry laugh that made the gods' projections exchange wary glances.
"My sins? Destroy my cultivation?" His lips curled into a smirk, crimson staining his teeth. "To save Ling'er is a sin? You, who sit atop your ivory thrones, dictating the fates of mortals, dare call yourselves righteous? You are nothing more than demons draped in divine robes."
The orange projection's expression darkened, his divine form pulsing with irritation. "What did you say?!" he barked, his voice shaking the very air.
Qing Chen exhaled sharply and wiped the blood from his chin. His grip on his spear shifted, both hands tightening around the shaft as golden energy coiled around his body like a raging tempest. The space around him trembled. His long, raven-black hair lifted as if caught in an unseen storm. Slowly, he raised his hands in a circular motion, his fingers moving through the air in ancient, intricate patterns—an unmistakable sign of an impending technique.
"I said..." His voice turned cold as his body began to ascend, his eyes glowing like twin celestial flames. "You all should die."
With each word, the heavens themselves seemed to tremble.
The gods' projections immediately reacted. Their hands moved in synchronization, fingers forming intricate seals, their divine energy converging. Four colossal, translucent palms materialized in the air, each brimming with unfathomable power. They moved slowly but deliberately, ready to crush Qing Chen beneath their divine might.
Symbols of an ancient script materialized around Qing Chen, forming a golden array that pulsed with forbidden energy. He raised his right hand, extending two fingers, while his left remained lowered, his fingers weaving through the air in an intricate dance of power. As he beheld the incoming divine strike, he whispered under his breath.
"I have no choice but to use it…"
The yellow projection's eyes widened in realization. "A forbidden technique?!" he roared. "Kill him before he completes it!"
The gods channeled their divine energy, their massive palms surging forward with apocalyptic force. The heavens roared in response, lightning crackling as the battle of fate commenced.
Qing Chen took a deep breath. His vision blurred, his body screaming in agony, but his soul burned with unwavering resolve.
"Even if I die…" he muttered, his voice laced with finality, "I will drag you down with me!"
With a final surge of will, he thrust his fingers forward, invoking the forbidden technique. The skies split apart, and the battlefield was consumed in a blinding golden radiance.
Qing Chen hovered in the vast celestial void, his body trembling under the immense toll of his power. A white halo materialized behind his head, casting an ethereal glow, while a luminous symbol burned itself onto his forehead like a cosmic brand.
"Starfall Spear..." Qing Chen intoned, his voice carrying across the heavens. His breath came out in slow, visible wisps, the sheer energy within him altering the very space around him. His eyes, bloodshot and dripping crimson tears, burned with an otherworldly intensity. The energy around him pulsed red, his once-dark hair turning a stark white—a harbinger of his fading lifespan. The universe exacted its price for his defiance.
"Cosmic Annihilation..." he whispered, his body trembling as immense energy surged through him. The spear in his grasp elongated, growing to an enormous size, crackling with celestial force. Red symbols burned across his skin, a painful backlash of invoking the forbidden technique. Still, he pressed on. Raising his two fingers, he pointed toward the descending divine palms, his gaze unwavering. The Starfall Spear shuddered before soaring forward, leaving a trail of cosmic radiance in its wake.
Qing Chen coughed violently, more blood spilling from his lips, his body on the brink of collapse. Yet his voice remained firm, though weak. "Kill..."
The heavens trembled as the Starfall Spear tore through the divine palms, shattering them into cosmic dust. The projections of the gods howled in pain, their ethereal forms rippling from the sheer impact. The forbidden technique had wounded them, but it had also drained Qing Chen's very essence. He staggered in midair, his vision blurring.
The purple projection of the goddess sneered. "Still struggling?" With a flick of her wrist, three deadly needles materialized, streaking toward Qing Chen with the intent of annihilating his very soul, ensuring he would never reincarnate.
The Starfall Spear reacted instantly, shifting mid-air and intercepting the needles. They ricocheted back toward the goddess, who caught them deftly with a frown. Narrowing her eyes, she gestured to the other gods. "Seize the spear. Even if he perishes, the weapon remains."
The divine projections flickered and shattered, revealing the true forms of the gods. Their injuries were severe—Qing Chen had inflicted wounds even they couldn't ignore. Clutching their wounds, they exchanged hesitant glances.
"We must retreat and wait for his body to fully fade. The spear's owner may perish, but the weapon itself belongs to us," one god muttered, nodding toward the goddess.
She chuckled, her gaze locking onto Qing Chen with a triumphant gleam. "The Starfall Spear will be mine. Qing Chen, your journey ends here."
Raising her hand, she conjured a massive purple wave, sending it crashing toward Qing Chen. The energy collided with him and the spear, sending shockwaves through the void. Qing Chen's body could no longer hold itself together. He reached for his weapon, but his fingers barely brushed the hilt before his strength failed him.
His blood, pooling into the air, drifted onto the spear's surface. The weapon trembled, absorbing the crimson droplets, before transforming into a streak of cosmic light. With a final pulse, it shot toward Qing Chen's forehead, embedding itself within him just as his body began to fade.
His consciousness wavered. His soul, barely clinging to existence, whispered a final thought.
"Ling'er... I failed to avenge you... If I ever find you again in another life... I swear..."
A single tear slipped from the corner of his eye before his body dissolved into cosmic dust.
The goddess smirked and waved her hand. "Retrieve that spear!" she commanded.
But it was too late.
Qing Chen's soul, like a fallen star, plummeted from the celestial realm, descending toward the mortal world—a flicker of light streaking across the endless night