Xing Mingli looked to the starry night sky which refused to stay still as it incessantly spun. Beautiful stars, the last thing he’d ever see, and the world wouldn’t stay still for even a moment. His robes stuck to his skin as blood seeped from his abdomen. The wound was so hot a moment ago, but it soon became like the rest of his body. Cold. So damn cold.

Crimson and white lights sometimes flashed in the distance along with the loud rumbles which often paired with world-shaking battles, but Xing Mingli didn’t care about that anymore. He just wanted to gaze at the stars one last time. He didn’t dare try and turn his head to look for his comrades. They were dead. It was all but guaranteed, even if he didn’t hear or see it happen. Who knew how far away he was from death’s door, and he didn’t want the last thing he’d ever see be the corpse of Qiangdu Bingwen or Ye Li. He didn’t dare close his eyes either, lest his last sight be all-consuming darkness. And he’d be damned if the last sight the Star God would ever see, be darkness.

It seemed like mere seconds ago Bingwen was getting into drunken spars with the other Gods, while he and Ye Li bet on the winner. That’s right. He owed Ye Li 100 gold taels, didn’t he? Foolish of him to challenge the God of Fate to a bet, but that could at least be written off as a drunken misstep. But what couldn’t be written off was the debt itself. What kind of God dies owing a debt to another? It was laughable, to be thinking about such things at the end of his 1000-year life, but he couldn’t help it. His useless honour was all he had left.

Pride and honour. Far from the virtues he thought they were. If he weren’t so prideful, he would’ve ran away as soon as he sensed the aura of a True God coming from the wretched beast, but no, his pride wouldn’t allow it. He could’ve warned the people of the capital to evacuate far in advance if he ran. But in his foolish, unfounded confidence, he stayed and fought. Now his people were liable to be pillaged, raped and slaughtered by the oncoming demon horde. And it was all his fault.

Well, there was still the possibility Lord God could pull through and win, but there was no place for optimism anymore. Only, the cold, hard reality in front of him.

Xing Mingli circulated as much energy around his body as he could to keep his blood pumping and warm, but there wasn’t much left in his veins. That didn’t matter anyway. He ran out of energy seconds after trying.

He began lapsing in and out of consciousness, still staring straight upwards at the stars. Didn’t have much of a choice anymore, his body long incapable of movement. The flashes of red and white stopped at some point, but he didn’t know when. The victor had been decided.

Things didn’t seem good. The crimson energy which flared from the creature’s rotting body was that of a True God, whether it was only a temporary increase in cultivation didn’t matter, it was still a plane of existence so far above the current peak that any opposition would be crushed in seconds. But a temporary increase of cultivation always came at a cost, and an increase to the True God Realm almost definitely meant death. Maybe there was still room for hope. Xing Mingli’s many questions were answered when a tall, robust, clear-faced yet rugged and wearied man covered in bruises, welts and cuts knelt over him, obscuring his view of the stars.

“You are the only one. Crimson lives, but for now, he is as good as dead.” He spoke in a muffled voice, as if he were speaking underwater. Xing Mingli’s hearing must have gone. Thank the Heavens, the Empire lives to see another sunrise.

Lord God sent his energy towards Xing Mingli’s wound to attempt to heal it, but what use was that? He’d suffered a blow from the strongest demon the world has ever known, been struck with the same sword that slaughtered his peers with ease, been infected with the same Darkness which destroyed half the world. For now, he should be glad to die knowing the Heavenly Empire was safe for at least a couple more years.

“God of Light, Star God Xing Mingli, you are not yet relinquished of your duty. Did you not vow to protect the Realm from Darkness? Did you not swear an oath to the Precursors, the Guardian Clan and I, your Lord God? What does an oath mean to you, Star God Mingli? Nothing?”

Lord God’s words of encouragement lacked his usual arrogance, he seemed to be extremely shaken. But who wouldn’t be? 170 of the Empire’s strongest Cultivators, all killed in a single night. His own loyal subordinates, and Xing Mingli’s friends and rivals, seniors and juniors. And soon, when the Great Seal disappears, the entire Realm may follow suit. Was he really going to die and betray his oath, his vow to protect the Realm?

Xing Mingli’s eyes regained the sharpness most befitting a God, and the fire in his belly was rekindled. Right. A God of Light’s duty was to ward off Darkness, and the arbiter of Darkness was still alive, plotting to bring untold destruction to the Realm. The rotten thing had lived for a long 20,000 years, and Xing Mingli vowed to make these coming years his last.