Deep beneath the Mu Clan grounds lay a hidden chamber that had existed for an unknown number of years.
Very few people in the entire clan even knew of its existence.
The chamber was vast, yet suffocatingly silent.
The air was cold and dry, carrying the faint scent of ancient stone that had not been disturbed for centuries.
In the center of the chamber stood a massive stone platform.
Upon it towered an ancient stele.
The surface of the stele was rough and weathered, covered with countless cracks that looked like scars left behind by time itself.
Those cracks ran across the stone like veins.
Despite its worn appearance, the stele gave off an indescribable presence.
It felt ancient.
Older than the clan.
Older than memory.
Standing before the stele was an old man with snow-white hair.
His robe was simple and faded, yet the aura around him was deep and steady like the ocean.
His back was slightly bent, but his eyes were sharp and clear.
He had been standing there for a long time.
Watching.
Waiting.
Finally, the old man slowly exhaled.
"Heaven and earth… dare not record his name."
His hoarse voice echoed softly inside the chamber.
The words were spoken calmly, but there was a faint tremor hidden beneath them.
As if even he found the statement difficult to believe.
For a moment, nothing happened.
The chamber fell back into silence.
Then—
The ancient stele suddenly trembled.
It was an extremely slight movement.
So faint that most people would have dismissed it as imagination.
But the old man saw it clearly.
His pupils shrank instantly.
He stepped forward.
"As expected…"
A crack on the surface of the stele began to glow.
At first the light was extremely faint.
But it slowly grew brighter.
Yet the color of the light was strange.
It was not the golden glow that appeared when a name was inscribed by the Heavenly Dao.
Nor was it the pale radiance of spiritual power.
Instead—
It was black.
A strand of black light slowly spread out from the crack.
Thin as a strand of hair.
Yet as it appeared, the surrounding space began to tremble faintly.
The air itself seemed to grow heavy.
The old man stared at the stele without blinking.
The shock in his eyes deepened.
"Eight hundred years…"
He murmured quietly.
"Eight hundred years… and it has finally appeared again."
At the same moment.
In the courtyard belonging to the eldest young master of the Mu Clan.
Mu Xuan pushed open the wooden gate and stepped inside.
The courtyard was unusually quiet.
There were no servants waiting.
No guards stationed nearby.
Only a few ancient trees stood silently under the fading light of the afternoon sun.
The leaves rustled softly as the wind passed through them.
Mu Xuan closed the gate behind him.
Click.
The sound was soft but clear.
He stood there for a moment.
As if lost in thought.
Then he slowly opened his hand and looked down at his palm.
The memory of the earlier moment remained vivid in his mind.
When his hand had touched the Heavenly Name Stele.
That overwhelming pressure.
It had felt as though the heavens and the earth themselves were pressing down on him.
The weight had been immense.
Almost suffocating.
But that was not the strangest part.
The strangest thing…
Was the gaze.
In that brief instant, Mu Xuan had clearly felt it.
It had been as if the entire world had suddenly turned its attention toward him.
Not a person.
Not a creature.
But the world itself.
Something vast.
Something ancient.
Something indescribable.
Watching him.
Judging him.
Waiting.
And then—
Everything vanished.
The pressure disappeared.
The gaze disappeared.
And the Heavenly Name Stele remained silent.
It did not record his name.
Mu Xuan slowly clenched his hand.
"No name…"
He murmured quietly.
Those two words had followed him his entire life.
For sixteen years, they had been repeated countless times.
No name power.
No talent.
No future.
In the eyes of many within the clan, Mu Xuan was nothing more than a symbol of failure.
A useless eldest young master who had inherited a title but none of the strength that should have accompanied it.
Even today—
At the Name Engraving Ceremony—
The Heavenly Name Stele had refused to acknowledge him.
Or perhaps…
It had simply ignored him.
Mu Xuan exhaled slowly.
Yet just as that thought crossed his mind—
A strange sensation suddenly appeared within his body.
He froze.
His eyes narrowed.
Mu Xuan closed his eyes.
And focused inward.
At first, he thought it might be a mistake.
But the sensation did not disappear.
Deep within his meridians, something was moving.
A thin thread of power.
Extremely faint.
Yet unmistakable.
Name power.
Mu Xuan's eyes snapped open.
Shock appeared on his face for the first time.
"Impossible…"
He whispered.
For sixteen years, his body had been completely empty.
No matter how hard he tried, he had never been able to sense name power.
Even children younger than him had already begun cultivating.
But he had always remained the same.
Yet now—
Name power had appeared.
The thin thread of power moved slowly through his meridians like a small stream.
Cold.
Calm.
Strangely unfamiliar.
It did not feel like the name power he had heard others describe.
It felt deeper.
Heavier.
Older.
Just then—
His heart suddenly trembled.
A faint metallic sound echoed inside his mind.
Clang.
Mu Xuan frowned.
The sound was not real.
It felt as though it had come from deep within his consciousness.
Before he could react—
A vision suddenly appeared.
Darkness.
Endless darkness.
There was no sky.
No earth.
No light.
Only an infinite void stretching in every direction.
And within that void—
Something stood alone.
A sword.
An ancient black sword was embedded upright in the ground.
Its blade was covered with cracks, as if it had endured countless ages of time.
There was no radiance around it.
No visible aura.
Yet the moment one saw it—
A terrifying feeling emerged.
Annihilation.
As if that sword existed solely to bring an end to all things.
Mu Xuan stared at the sword in silence.
He did not know why.
But he felt an indescribable connection to it.
Then—
Two ancient words suddenly appeared in his mind.
Name's End.
The moment those words emerged—
The thread of name power within his body suddenly erupted.
Boom.
A cold surge swept through every meridian.
Mu Xuan's eyes flew open.
His breathing became heavier.
Yet the shock in his gaze slowly turned into something else.
Clarity.
For the first time in sixteen years, he could clearly feel it.
The power within his body.
The door that had always remained closed—
Had finally opened.
At the same time.
Deep beneath the Mu Clan.
Inside the ancient chamber.
The black light on the stele suddenly flared violently.
An ancient symbol slowly appeared on its surface.
The white-haired elder stared at it.
His pupils contracted sharply.
He staggered backward one step.
His voice trembled.
"Name's End…"
Silence filled the chamber.
After a long moment, the old man slowly lifted his head.
His gaze seemed to pass through the layers of earth above him.
As though he were looking directly at the sky itself.
"It seems…"
He murmured quietly.
"This era…"
"…is truly about to change."