Blood rained from the sky, staining the ground red as if it would never come clean. The air was thick with the stench of death and the sounds of battle had long faded away. The only thing left was the aftermath of the fierce battle, with countless bodies mangled beyond repair.

Broken weapons lay scattered around, no longer in the hands of their owners. Amidst all this chaos stood two figures, one old and the other young. They were both covered in injuries and stood on top of a mountain of corpses, surveying the devastation around them.

The old man, carrying his sword, flicked it, and blood whipped through the air. He sheathed his weapon and trudged towards the youngster, looking at him with a mixture of admiration and pity. "Young disciple, what is your name?" asked the ancient.

The young disciple, wincing in pain, bowed towards the venerable, "Oh great elder, my name is Lóng Fēi. I am from the Holy Temple of the Southern Mountains."

"Ah, the holy temple," replied the elder, looking out into the setting sun, "even the mightiest of mountains will fall to greed." The elder's words reflected his disillusionment with the greed and corruption that had taken hold of the holy temple.

Lóng Fēi grimaced from the pain and the shame of his sect. The holy temple was supposed to be a bastion of righteousness and virtue, but it had fallen to the same corrupting influences that plagued the other sects.

The elder's gaze turned back to Fei, who was struggling to stand, and he gently spoke, "Give me your hand." Fei, trying to circulate his Qi to recover from his injuries, slowly lifted his hand towards the outstretched arm of the elder. A burst of Qi suddenly entered his body and left as fast as it had come.

The elder sighed. "All these years, I have worked towards reaching the great Dao. Yet, the Heavens are unfair. If I had been born just a few centuries later…"

He paused and sighed again as if he had sensed something. As the sun began to rise, five figures, all wearing black, materialized around the mound. The elder did not glance at them, ignoring their very presence, even though enormous amounts of demonic Qi began pulsating around the intruder's bodies and the hill.

The elder said to Fei, "I cannot save you. However, I can freeze your consciousness and body, but there is only a minuscule possibility of your survival. Do you think you can continue my legacy for me?"

Lóng Fēi, who had been slowly bleeding out, glanced around at the figures and gave a nod. He knew that he had to take up the elder's mantle and fight against the forces of evil that threatened the realm.

The elder straightened his back as if he had aged back to his prime and began forming seals with his hands. Enormous amounts of Qi began to gather from the surroundings. Noticing what he was doing, the black figures rushed forward, but there was no use.

"Divine Ice Sealing Technique," yelled the Elder as he pushed his hands down to the ground. The Qi in the air rushed towards Fei, and it formed a clear icy coffin around him. Fei began to struggle inside, panicking as he lost the connection between himself and Qi, and the coffin slowly began to recede into the ground.

"I wish you luck, Fei," said the Elder, looking back at him, "I gave you my life's legacy inside the coffin. Make sure to use them."

As more black figures materialized and the ones rushed in, the Elder yelled, "Holy Demonic Sect

Flowing Blossom Sect, Ashura Sect, you may destroy my entire sect, but you will never defeat the orthodox sects!"

Golden Qi gathered around the Elder, and he floated above the ground. He looked like a fallen god as the golden Qi supported him above the ground, and he gathered it into his hands.

Fei slowly lost sight of the Elder as his coffin sank into the ground, but he had the last sight of the Elder, who he did not know the name of, flying towards the black figures, a light in all the darkness as if holding up the world.