In the vast wilderness, who contends for supremacy?

A proud prodigy laughs, drawing a longbow.

The cycle of reincarnation and karma turns to emptiness.

Amidst the blood-stained ruins, how many times has the bell tolled for fallen immortals?

A white-haired recluse on a solitary peak observes the tribulations of the mortal world,

accustomed to the traces of immortal paths through eons of celestial trials.

A pot of clear wine is offered in remembrance of encounters.

The affairs of conquering all realms are entirely consigned to the dirge.

 *****************************************************************************

Rolling years are like a dream, countless ages strive across the firmament.

Prosperity and decline, glory and decay, turn to emptiness in an instant.

Stars are shattered, stained with blood; palaces of immortals are built upon white bones.

When has the yoke of heaven and earth ever been broken?

Whose hand orchestrates the cosmic game of all realms?

Laughing at the azure sky, one treads the path against destiny.

Looking back, all are but passersby; who stands at the apex?

*****************************************************************************

The night was deep, the firmament ashen and dull, the stars like dying lamps, flickering as if about to extinguish. An indescribable aura of decay permeated the void, as if the entire world was slowly approaching its end.

The mountains rose and fell, like sleeping behemoths, concealed within the darkness. Occasional roars of beasts echoed through the universe, carrying boundless violence and savagery, shaking the mountains, causing rocks to tumble, their echoes lingering in the deep valleys.

All things were withering, order collapsing. This was a world shrouded by a decaying Heavenly Dao, its laws falling apart, the trajectory of the cosmos no longer complete. Invisible rifts emanated the "Breath of Annihilation," making the end inevitable for all things. The glory of the primordial era had long vanished, leaving only this broken wasteland, struggling to survive the collapse of the Heavenly Dao.

Yet, in this desolate world, a faint glimmer of life flickered in the darkness.

Deep within the mountains stood a withered, towering cypress, its trunk charred like coal, riddled with cracks, resembling the remains left after a celestial fire. It had long lost its once-abundant vitality, with only a slender branch swaying gently in the night breeze, its emerald light diffusing from the leaves, like a dying ember of hope. It was a rare spark of life in this world, stubbornly flickering amidst the encroaching decay of the Heavenly Dao.

The faint halo spread, enveloping Stone Rock Village, nestled amidst the mountains. The stone houses here were simple and sturdy, scattered in a natural arrangement, appearing peaceful and serene in the night, as if isolated from the darkness outside, slumbering in a dream.

The villagers of Stone Rock Village mostly lived by hunting and gathering, their lives arduous, yet they steadfastly held onto the land left by their ancestors. The eldest elder of the village sat before his house, his gaze cloudy yet profound, as if able to perceive the passage of time. His wrinkled hands gently caressed an ancient beast bone, the village's sacred object, symbolizing the lineage of the Stone Clan.

Suddenly, a gale arose, black mist churned across the sky, and thick clouds obscured the last trace of starlight.

A primordial dragon, its body coiling like a mountain range, tore through the clouds from the depths of the heavens. Its scales were as black as ink, reflecting a cold gleam in the night, its pupils burned with eerie blue flames, like two frigid moons gazing down upon the earth, locking onto that faint green light. It stared silently for a moment, a strange glint flashing in its draconic eyes, before finally retracting its gaze, its massive wings shaking, tearing through the void, and soaring towards the deeper darkness.

However, an even more oppressive aura followed. The earth trembled, and a primeval auspicious beast, wreathed in flames and treading on thunder, strode out of the darkness from afar. Its form was immense, towering like a mountain, each breath roaring like a hurricane, its single horn radiating a blinding light, like the only source of illumination in the world. It paused before the withered cypress, gazing at the swaying green light. After a moment of silence, the light in its eyes gradually dimmed, as if understanding something, before finally turning and departing.

Silence returned to the mountains, with only the night wind rustling through the trees, carrying faint whispers.

Until dawn. A ray of morning light pierced the sky, scattering across the continuous mountain ranges, dispelling the darkness of the night.

Suddenly, a black shadow swept across the forest, an ancient ferocious bird with wings spanning the sky, its feathers like blades, cutting through the air with a piercing shriek. Its claws were as sharp as steel, glinting with a cold light. Yet, it did not step into Stone Rock Village, circling around it as if it were a forbidden place.

The morning breeze stirred, and in the dim light, a slender branch flowing with emerald light swayed gently. At this moment, it seemed to be the only radiance in the world. In this world nearing its end, a new cycle was quietly brewing…