Chapter 1: The Ashes of Falling Cloud Village
（第一章:落云村的灰烬）
The night was unnaturally quiet.
Above the once-thriving Falling Cloud Village, storm clouds churned like a living beast. Winds howled through the valley, carrying the scent of ash and blood. In the distance, flames still licked the ruins of shattered homes and broken bodies. Where once stood the noble Lin Clan, only rubble and smoke remained.
In the heart of the ruins, a boy no older than ten knelt before a smoldering altar. His clothes were torn and blood-soaked, his eyes hollow with grief, but burning deep within them was something more dangerous than sorrow—resolve.
His name was Lin Long.
"Father... Mother..." he whispered, voice hoarse. "I will remember. I will never forget."
He clenched his small fists as memories flashed in his mind—the day the sky fell.
---
Three days earlier...
The Lin Clan was preparing for the Ancestral Spirit Ceremony, a sacred event that happened once every decade. Joy and music filled the village. Patriarch Lin Wuchen, Lin Long's father, stood proud, unaware that death approached with silent steps.
They came in the dead of night.
The Celestial Qin Clan, led by the young prodigy Qin Wuye, descended upon the village like divine judgment. They claimed it was punishment for rebellion—but Lin Long knew the truth. They wanted the Holy Creation Body, the rare divine physique that he unknowingly possessed.
In moments, everything turned to slaughter.
Lin Long remembered his father shielding him with his body, shouting something he couldn't hear through the roar of battle. His mother, Yu Qinglan, with her dying breath, sealed a fragment of her soul within Lin Long's spirit sea before vanishing in a blinding flash.
He remembered the cold laugh of Qin Wuye, looking down at him like he was nothing.
"You? The heir of the Lin Clan?" he sneered. "A worm has no right to the heavens."
---
Now...
The fire crackled beside Lin Long as he buried what little remained of his family with trembling hands. Behind him, the once-loyal retainers had fled. No one remained to carry the Lin name. No one—except him.
As he stood before the ancestral altar, bloodied and alone, a voice echoed in his soul.
> "Do you wish for power, child?"
Lin Long's heart trembled. A light surged from within his dantian, illuminating the darkness around him. A vast, ancient presence awakened—a divine spirit as old as time itself.
> "You are the last bearer of the Divine Primordial Heavenly Spirit... From this day on, your fate is no longer bound by mortal chains."
> "Rise... Lin Long."
Thunder roared above. The storm answered.
Lin Long opened his eyes. The child who had knelt in ashes was gone.
In his place stood the first spark of a Perfect Immortal.