In the mortal realm,

Donghuang Prefecture, Myriad Beast Mountains.

A woman in white, clothes disheveled, pale skin exposed to the wind—an alluring sight hard to ignore.

Bernie Rivers glanced at her curves, his gaze slipping despite himself, while Barry Adams’s icy face flushed with shame and fury.

With a sharp hum, her sword stopped just a breath from Bernie’s throat. Her eyes were cold, killing intent thick.

"Speak. You working with that demoness?"

A flicker of confusion crossed Bernie’s eyes—

I’m not dead?

He had been the prized disciple of Morris Noble in the Immortal Realm. Morris had stumbled upon the Saint’s legacy—the Devouring Chaos Scripture. But betrayal came from within, his enchanting wife turning him over. Noble’s domain fell, surrounded by eight Immortal Emperors. In his dying breath, Noble handed Bernie the scripture, hoping he’d survive and avenge him.

Cornered, Bernie jumped into the Abyss.

He never expected to wake in a new world... In someone else's body. Name’s still Bernie. Same soul, different fate. He thought he was dreaming, warmth in his arms... acted on instinct.

He might’ve gained the pleasure, but he’d be damned if he bore the blame. He said firmly,

“Demoness? Me? Just a nobody. Never met one in my life.”

Barry narrowed her gaze, channeling true essence into her pupils.

Sure enough, the young man before her—about twenty—hadn't even stepped into the Qi Condensation Realm.

Her killing intent remained. One wrong word, she’d finish him with no hesitation.

"You still deny it? You used some twisted art to steal half my strength. If you weren’t allied with that demon witch, how else could you have done it?"

Bernie wiped sweat off his brow, forcing calm.

"I was just passing through. This mess wasn’t my choice either. Besides... I seem to recall... you made the first move..."

Barry froze. Images from last night flashed in her mind. A blush crept up her swan-like neck.

She was the Saintess of the Grand Profound Sword Sect, sent to capture a demoness. She’d gained the upper hand, but in the final moment was struck by the demon’s lust venom.

Tried to purge it by diving into a mountain stream—only to run into Bernie. If she couldn’t withstand the venom, how much less a man without even Qi Condensation?

Barry’s icy shell cracked under the chaos.

She sheathed her sword.

"I’ll spare you. Let this never be spoken of again."

Bernie noticed blood under her white robe. His gaze lingered a moment, then turned serious.

"Even if it was an accident, I’m not the kind of man who runs from responsibility."

Barry hesitated. This man was tall, features sharp, and walked with pride.

Too bad his talent was trash. Their worlds were simply too far apart—likely to never cross paths again.

“Maybe it’s fate,” she said softly. “You’ve taken half my strength. If you’ve got the will, it might be enough to start down the warrior’s path.”

Then, with a gust of wind, she vanished into the skies.

Bernie stared after her silhouette, feeling both relief and emptiness.

She wasn’t bloodthirsty—if she meant to kill, he’d already be a corpse.

...

Memories started to merge.Bernie Rivers’ mind gradually cleared... He wasn’t in the Immortal Realm anymore. He’d crossed into another world—a chaotic land overrun by demons and beasts.

A thousand years ago, the demon races ripped through space and descended. They fed on humans like cattle. Human warriors had no choice but to build walls from their flesh and blood, fighting tooth and nail for the last scraps of land to live on.

Even so, the monsters poured in wave after wave. Now, of the nine regions, only one corner still held.

In this world, he was the son of Leon Rivers—number one warrior in Tianwu City. Though born talentless, with his father’s shelter, his life had been decent. He even got engaged to Sophia Tate, daughter of the Su Clan.

That changed five years ago when Leon Rivers marched to the battlefield against the demons and never returned. Word came back that he’d been killed. From that day on, Bernie’s status plummeted. He became a joke in the family, mistreated and ignored.

He and his grandfather were pushed to the edge, banished to a rundown old yard. During a recent clan land division, Felix Rivers, the cousin he always looked up to, teamed up with Sophia Tate to lure him into the Myriad Beasts Ridge. If fate hadn’t thrown him a lifeline, he should’ve been ripped apart by beasts.

Because of the merging memories, Bernie felt it all vividly.

“Poisonous bastards. If it weren’t for me crossing over, I’d be dead for sure.”

Thinking of Felix and Sophia’s smug faces, and the years of humiliation from the clan, rage churned in his gut.

But then he frowned.

“This talent’s pathetic. No wonder I was everyone’s doormat…”

Started cultivating at eight, reached Body Forging rank one at ten—and then nothing. Ten years of dead silence. Everyone in Tianwu called him the city’s number-one loser.

“Sword of infinity, burn the Nine Hells!”

“Great Dao of the Da Luo!”

“Golden Immortal Sword Canon!”

He tried several top-tier Immortal techniques, but this world had no immortal qi—how was he supposed to train such arts?

Despair crept in. Forget revenge—at this rate, he’d die of old age before reaching anything useful.

Then a thought hit him like lightning.

“That sword maiden said I absorbed half her power… If that’s true, I might still have a shot.”

Sitting down cross-legged, he began channeling his internal energy.

Suddenly, something strange happened.

Countless runes lit up, and inside his mind space, a mysterious world unfolded. Blinding light and ancient forces swirled like the birth of all things. Slowly, divine script started to appear, forming a giant, glowing book.

Five shining golden words burned into his soul—Swallowing Chaos Scripture!

His heart jumped in excitement.

In his past life, he had rare talent and insight. That’s why Morris Noble took him in and taught him everything. Back then, they’d browsed this very scripture, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t understand it.

Could it be death and rebirth were the real keys to unlocking it?

Staring at the dense, complex script, Bernie’s excitement grew. No wonder this scripture caused such disruption in the Immortal Realm—it was forged by a Saint, and every word held unimaginable truths of the Dao.

The very first line struck him to the core:

“All beings under heaven can be used by me. All powers and divine arts can be made mine.”

As he read further, he was even more shaken. This technique let him devour the blood and essence of all creatures to strengthen himself—utterly ruthless!

Even the powerful techniques taught by Morris Noble couldn’t come close.

Was this terrifying art really the inheritance of the ancient Saints?This flipped everything he knew about cultivation. In every world, talent was king. The gifted ones were born destined to soar—fated to rule, grow faster, grow stronger. While the ordinary folks, no matter how hard they worked, would never catch up. Their life's peak couldn't match a single day's breakthrough of a genius. Utterly unfair.

But this technique? It broke all the rules.

It devoured the blood and spirit of every living thing, stealing power by force. As long as you dared, nothing was off limits. At its peak, it could even snatch fate itself.

A Saint's legacy it may be, but it had the scent of a demonic path. Once, he'd never have touched something this twisted. But now? His cultivation was gone. This new body was so lacking in talent, he could barely sense the world's energy. Other techniques wouldn't even work. If he wanted to rise again, revenge was the only compass—and this technique the only road.

He shut his eyes, steadied his breath, and activated the technique.

Boom!

A terrifying aura burst from Bernie Rivers. Inside his Dantian, a pair of massive eyes opened out of nowhere, radiating divine might. Within the pupils, suns swirled, moons turned, stars flickered and died—like some ancient god-beast had awakened.

Thanks to the power he drew from Barry Adams, the true essence inside him was deep and formidable. If the foundation was strong enough, he might’ve soared sky-high already. But the Saint scripture used this force to rebuild his meridians from the ground up.

The raging essence washed through his body, shattering every vein it passed. Then it reformed, stronger than before. Rebuilt—narrow, but unbreakable, faintly traced in glowing gold runes.

With each cycle, the power surged through his new eight extraordinary meridians.

After ten lost years, his cultivation finally climbed again.

Body Tempering, Level Two.

Body Tempering, Level Three.

Body Tempering, Level Four.

...

It kept going until Level Ten, then stopped.

It was like being reborn.

Bernie slowly opened his eyes—they were dark, bottomless, like a deep abyss that could see through all things.

Night had fallen. From the thick forest ahead came a strange noise. A giant wolf head pushed past a tree, eyes bloodthirsty and gleaming with greed. Saliva dripped from its fangs. Pure predator.

Bernie exhaled slowly. The power of the Saint legacy was terrifying—only a sliver of it, but it was enough to feel his body reforged, his soul uplifted. Still, this technique’s so-called ‘devouring’... what exactly did it mean?

He didn’t have long to wonder. The beast sprang from the shadows, wind howling!

He spun. Energy surged. His fist shot out like thunder.

Boom!

Bone-crack echoed through the clearing. The demon wolf's eyes widened—its huge body burst open with deep gouges, blood spraying everywhere. It slumped, still.

And that’s when it happened.

From the corpse, waves of blood energy rushed into Bernie, becoming part of his essence.

“Violent Wind Howl!”

The words spilled from him. He slashed his arm—and a raging gust materialized, ripping through dead trees like paper. That was the beast’s innate ability.

His heart trembled. He hadn’t just stolen its blood—he’d taken its skill too!

This was no ordinary cultivation. If mastered, it might open paths far beyond what he'd once known. Maybe this time, he'd climb higher than before... maybe revenge was actually possible.

He clenched his fists, fire burning behind his eyes. Hatred rose like a tide in his chest, and his voice dropped to a cold murmur.

“In this life or the last... every blow I took, every disgrace I suffered... I’ll return it tenfold.” His eyes narrowed. “Felix Rivers. Sophia Tate. Clean your necks—I’m coming.”