He was once the Martial God of Ten Thousand Realms, a legend who shattered heavens with a single strike. But betrayal sealed his divine soul into the frail body of Lin Feng—a scorned, beaten son-in-law of a crumbling clan. Mocked as trash, humiliated by his wife’s family, and cast aside like a broken tool, he endured it all with a smile. Why? Because beneath his ragged exterior burns the heart of a god, waiting to unleash chaos on a world that forgot his name.

Divorced and discarded, Lin Feng walks away from the Lin Clan’s sneers, his steps leading him to the downtrodden Ye Clan—a family of outcasts clinging to survival. They see a wanderer. He sees a canvas. With cunning sharper than any blade and secrets deeper than the abyss, he begins to mold them in the shadows, turning weaklings into warriors, paupers into kings. Every insult fuels his resolve. Every enemy becomes a stepping stone.

But the seal on his power is cracking. Ancient foes sense the tremor of a god’s return. Arrogant young masters, ruthless sects, and even the heavens themselves will tremble when the Shadow Patriarch rises. From a forgotten village to the celestial thrones, Lin Feng—Zhan Tian—will carve his name in blood and fire, proving one truth: those who scorned him will kneel, and those who dared to challenge him will break.

Cultivation? Unmatched. Revenge? Ruthless. Destiny? His to rewrite. The world thought it buried a nobody. It awoke a nightmare.

A shrill cry pierced the Ye Clan estate as midnight descended, the sky splitting with a silver sharpness that cast jagged shadows across the courtyard. The air turned cold and taut, vibrating with the hum of a blade's edge as the Piercing Blade emerged from the rift, its boundless sharpness of infinite power slicing through the darkness, its qi a lethal intent that threatened to sever the threads of existence. Ye Hua stood at the hall's threshold, her patched cloak trembling in the sudden gust, her gray eyes fixed on the silver figure with a mix of awe and dread. Ye Qing stormed from the gate, his spear in hand, his gruff shout echoing as he pulled Ye Jun and Ye Mei back, their small figures shrinking against the wall under the blade's glint. Ye Chen perched atop the western wall, his ward-stone pulsing faintly, his shrewd gaze tracking the rift, while Ye Ling sprinted along the rooftops, her dagger drawn, her braid whipping wildly, her breath a hiss of defiance in the cutting air.


Chapter 58 - The Blade’s Severance