"Sh…en… Mansion…???"
The old man forced his breathing to steady, a habit born from surviving calamities that had erased sects.
"Why is this happening…?" He said, shivering to find a voice.
The jade walls of the mansion glimmered faintly, with the ancient characters surfacing beneath layers of time.
The Shen Clan.
A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead, and, with a shaking arm, he wiped it away while attempting to ignore the rooted fear that invaded his mind.
An icy pressure wrapped around his chest, tightening with every breath of his.
"Grandpa...what's going on?!" Xiao Yang shouted, running closer. He grabbed hold of his grandfather's shoulders to provide support as he slowly regained his composure.
"I...I...it's the Shen Clan..." The old man muttered, shaking even though his voice carried a sense of reverence.
"The gods themselves."
Thunder rumbled in the sky.
The moment the name left his lips, the heavens stirred, as if waking from a sleep that had lasted ages.
The sky darkened, not abruptly, but as though it had always been waiting to do so.
Xiao Yang's fingers instinctively tightened around the spear.
"Gramps... What's happening?"
The old man's hawk-like eyes took in the trembling horizon.
"Don't you see? Even the heavens acknowledge the name. The Shen Clan has slept within the long river of time, yet its ripples still touch existence."
Their amazement held for long moments longer, the mist coiling around them like a living serpent. The atmosphere was filled with the rancid stench of blood, decay, and ancient conflict, pressing down upon them as if it were alive.
And then they moved forward, wordlessly, into the centre of the Shen Clan.
The estate wasn't like any other ruin they had been to and experienced before.
Huge pale jade stone walls stretched out endlessly on either side, etched with gold runes, gently glowing dull gold, thrumming softly with divine energy.
Tall spires were clawing at the sky, others that were broken and leaning, while some looked intact, seemingly untouched by the decay of time spanning thousands of years.
This was not the weight of time.
It was suppression.
Every step sent vibrations throughout the black stone floor, subtle tremors, as though the mansion sensed their presence and was measuring their worth.
The mist was thick but felt tranquil, like the estate was inhaling and expelling controlled breaths. The floor was polished black stone, worn and chipped, and covered in hundreds of diagrams, formations, seal inscriptions, and the Dao's patterns.
Even the old man, with many years of experience observing the various mystical arts, could only discern some of the symbols, while most were completely lost to antiquity over the eons.
"This... is incredible," Xiao Yang said in a whisper, his eyes bright. "Even one of these inscriptions... could allow a cultivator to exceed mortal constraints."
The man remained quiet, his eyes sifting through each shadow, each fallen column, and every crack. The estate concealed secrets older than any of the planes they had visited.
It had endured natural disasters that had made contact with energies sustained by Daoism. Blood had stained, and, at times, opened the very grounds of Heaven.
As they kept walking, they arrived at the necropolis at the end of the estate. There were tombs of jade and stone at various angles, some upright, some knocked down, some decimated over the years.
Moss was discolored in the courtyard, and hundreds of skeletons lay on the ground, charred with ash and soot from a long-forgotten battle. Many still held on to weapons fused to their bones.
Some had armor conjoined to their bones over the centuries as well.
"This… is no normal massacre." The old man muttered to himself in a soft voice.
"This bloodshed here today… would have required the collusion of the forces created by Heaven and Earth. Anyone who had faced the Shen Clan defeated them without simply massacring them."
Xiao Yang realized, distantly, that he should have felt fear.
The thought passed without effect.
"Grandpa... if even one of them survived... one object, imagine what we could gain!" The old man's gaze sharpened.
"Yes, imagine. Just remember the danger. Power hidden this long... it breeds. There are bitter feelings, anger, and fragments of the Dao natives.... A single mistake... and it will consume us, we may not have even a chance to fight back."
"Grandpa... do you know about the Shen Clan?" Xiao Yang asked, his curiosity white hot.
The old man exhaled slowly, looking off.
"Not much. But enough."
"Thousands of years ago, in the archives of our sect, I read about them. Two eras before our own, it was called the Era of Eternal Mandate...the Shen Clan alone held vast power over the Chaos Universe. This was... almost a billion years ago." He paused, making a frown.
"Then came the greatest conflict of war in the history of the Chaos Universe...the War of Heaven and Chaos. All the top clans of the Chaos Universe took part; none could escape. Every strong race on was part of it. But the Shen Clan... they were the "GODS."
"And the Holder of the Eternal Mandate."
"They led the charge, commanding armies and wielding power that even Heaven feared. And this clan betrayed the heaven and earth, and became the sinner of humanity."
Xiao Yang's mouth hung open. "A billion years ago... and nothing left?"
The old man's face darkened. "
"They were born wrong," the old man said quietly.
"And Heaven noticed."
Silence claimed the entire estate.
The old man's hand trembled slightly as he traced the ruin with his finger, the immensity of what had happened here haunting them.
"The Shen Clan... they were not merely family or a sect," he said, the words trembling at the tip of his tongue.
"They were gods... and when they fell, they shaped the Chaos Universe."
Xiao Yang gripped his spear tighter, surveying the misty horizon. "And now... we are standing in their ruins. After a billion years... we are standing where gods once ruled."
The old man nodded gravely. "Yes. But you have to remember, the dead do not always rest. The living who escape Heaven's wrath do not often do so willingly. And even here in the long river of time, something of them may yet survive."
Above, the clouds spun in violent arcs. The blood red mist curled, alive, and stirred at their presence. And far beyond in their scope, at the heart of the Shen Clan, the faint pulse of something immortal began stirring again.
The Shen Mansion stood before them, silent but powerfully resonant in its majesty. Here were the last remnants of power so great even the old man, a master of masters, felt the presence of fear bite into his bones.
Xiao Yang took a deep breath. "Grandpa... I can feel it. Something waits for us at the heart of the estate. Something... alive like a heartbeat."
The old man's eyes darkened. "Yes. But remember… do not touch anything that may activate some formations...understand..?"
As he said, he looked at his grandson with a warning in his eyes.
Hmm...Xiao Yang nodded.
After they walked inside it.
Just as they stepped inside, they heard a warning sound.
"Who dares to step onto the Shen Clan territory...?!"
The voice came forth with a loud thunderous crack and shook the mansion and the blood red mist that swirled around it. The booming power of the voice shook the ground.
The trees, if they could be called trees since the estate had long molded under blood and Dao residue, shook as if they were made of so Marquise energy they hurled to carry the will of some invisible force.
Xiao Yang's body remained frozen with the spear, still held in his hands. "Grandpa... that voice... that was not human!"
The old man's face darkened, and his pupils slitted. "No, it is human... but it is ancient. That voice... is that of the human who survived the wrath of Heaven itself. A survivor of the Shen Clan. One who has bound this place for who knows how long... centuries perhaps."
The voice rang again, louder again, more commanding:
"Every step you take on this land... every breath that you take... that I witness it all. Come forth, and face the judgment of the Shen Clan!"
The voice ricocheted around the estate like a physical blow, setting the mist spinning violently. It was as if the estate had a consciousness, responding to the last of its heirs.
Even the old warrior, who had faced countless battles and journeyed to the forbidden Dao, felt a shiver rippling through him.
Xiao Yang gritted his teeth and moved a step closer. "Grandpa... whoever this person is... they're very dangerous. We need to be careful."
The old man did not answer at once. He raised a hand, reaching out to the mist and seeking the source of the voice.
Faint ripples of Dao energy pulsated outwards, undulating like invisible snakes, and then... he saw him.
In the heart of the estate, in front of a gargantuan grave, carved from graven black jade, knelt a figure.
A perfect young man's body, with a massive spear thrust through his torso, the shaft driving through him and into the ground, yet holding him upright, fixed, and completely still.
The black robes he wore were tattered and bloodied, yet there was a faint glimmer of light coming from his person, the last remnants of divine blood from the Shen Clan.
"How many years have passed since that war?" The kneeling young man, pinned to the grave, suddenly spoke the moment the two intruders saw him.
Ah… the moment he spoke, both grandfather and grandson froze, fear washing over them.
"Senior…" the old man began, but just looking at the condition of the kneeling man, he faltered, his words dying on his lips.
The man, still kneeling, suddenly lifted his head and fixed his gaze on the old man. His voice turned icy.
"Did I ask you something?"
The cold in his tone was so piercing that both grandfather and grandson instinctively dropped to their knees.
"Senior, after that great catastrophe… it has been around a billion years," the old man said, kneeling fully, arching his hands in respect.
"A billion years…" Shen Wuji murmured, his gaze falling upon the jade grave before him, the one he had been kneeling before.
"My son… it is time for you to wake and take up the responsibility that your father once bore."
The young man muttered to himself slowly, his eyes fixed on the grave.
Seeing this, both Xiao Yang and the old man were struck by renewed terror.
Gathering his courage, the old man finally spoke.
"Senior… may I have the blessing to know your name?"
"Huh… you wish to know my name…" A smile appeared on the young man's face, but it was unsettling, almost chilling.
"Senior… it is just…" The old man wiped sweat from his forehead and swallowed hard, his throat dry.
"Haha… this world may not even remember my name, but if you can bear the weight of it, then this Shen has no problem revealing it."
"Names still carry weight," the kneeling man said softly.
The ground cracked, with a split of second.
"Shen Wuji."
The sound did not echo this time.
The world accepted it.
"Shen Wuji…!!!!!!"
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Please add the story in your reading library list.
Thanks!
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One more thing, the pace of the early story will be a little bit slow, like this