The cold wind howled through the ruined temple as Kael took his first breath in this new world. His body ached from the transition, his cultivation reset once again. It had happened ninety-nine times before. The cycle of travel, learning, and losing his strength had become routine—but this time, something was different.

A distant memory flashed in his mind. A name. Raius.

Kael clenched his fist, recalling the moment he had seen it appear on the Stone of Souls. His childhood friend, the one who had promised to journey across worlds with him, was dead. But the way he had died… encountering the Demon God… it didn’t sit right.

He looked around. The temple ruins were silent, but the air pulsed with unseen energy. He wasn’t alone.

A figure stepped into the moonlight, clad in black robes embroidered with blood-red runes. His presence was suffocating, the aura of an Immortal 5-Star cultivator. Kael’s instincts screamed at him to flee—he was powerless against such an opponent. But his mind, sharpened by a hundred lifetimes of experience, forced him to stay calm.

The man’s silver hair shimmered in the darkness. His once-kind eyes were now empty, filled with an unnatural glow.

"Kael," the man said, his voice a hollow echo of the friend he once was.

Kael’s breath caught. It’s him.

“Raius…” His voice wavered.

But the thing before him wasn’t Raius. Kael could see it now—the taint of the Demon God, the influence of the Ten Saints who sought to control this world. His friend’s soul was gone, buried beneath their corruption.

Or was it?

Kael’s eyes darted to his inventory, hidden within his system interface. He still had the knowledge, the techniques, and most importantly—the fragments of a catcher he had spent lifetimes perfecting. If he could repair it, he might be able to pull Raius back.

But first, he had to survive.

Raius lifted his hand, and a storm of black chains erupted from the ground. Kael barely dodged, rolling behind a broken pillar. He had no cultivation, no energy reserves. But he had something better.

His mind.

From his inventory, he summoned a binding talisman—one of the few items that didn’t require cultivation to activate. He pressed it to the ground, and glowing runes spread in a circle beneath Raius. The chains stopped mid-air.

For the first time, Raius hesitated.

Kael seized the moment. He pulled out a dagger, its blade shimmering with ancient inscriptions. “You’re still in there,” he muttered. “I’ll find a way to free you.”

But Raius only smirked, his voice twisted by the dark forces within. "You’re too late, Kael. The Demon God already owns this world."

The temple trembled, and from the shadows, whispers filled the air. The Ten Saints were watching.

Kael’s heart pounded. This wasn’t just about Raius anymore. If he was going to stop the Demon God, he would have to do more than survive.

He would have to break the cycle.

The air was heavy with the scent of dust and decay. Kael gasped as he awoke, his body aching from the transition. The stone beneath him was cold, cracked with age. He had landed in another world again.

His hands trembled as he pushed himself up, his mind already processing the same grim reality. It happened again.

This was the 99th time he had traveled across dimensions. Each time, he gained knowledge, power, and experience—only to have his cultivation reset the moment he entered a new world.

Kael exhaled, steadying himself. His system interface flickered in his mind’s eye. Inventory, intact. Items, secured. Energy, depleted. Just as expected.

But this world felt different. The air pulsed with something ancient. Magic and cultivation energy intertwined, heavier than in any realm he had visited before.

He looked around. He was in the ruins of a temple, its walls lined with faded carvings of warriors bowing to a dark figure. At the center of the room stood a massive black stone tablet, its surface covered in glowing inscriptions. Kael’s sharp eyes scanned the text, his knowledge from previous travels piecing together the meaning.

The Stone of Souls.

His breath caught. He had read about artifacts like this before. They connected to the souls of the dead, revealing names when someone passed. A powerful tool—one that could confirm if someone had truly died.

Something tugged at his chest. A name.

He turned his gaze toward the tablet. Slowly, he stepped forward. The air around it was thick, almost suffocating. He traced the ancient text until he found the newest engraving.

His hands clenched. Raius Vermillion.

His mind reeled. No. That’s not possible.

Raius had been his closest friend since childhood. They had dreamed of conquering worlds together, of traveling beyond the limits of their realm. But now, his name was here—etched into the Stone of Souls.

Kael’s pulse pounded in his ears. What happened to him?

Before he could process it, the ground trembled. A sharp, cold energy filled the air. Something was coming.

Kael spun around just as shadows pooled at the temple’s entrance. A tall figure stepped forward, silver hair reflecting the moonlight. His eyes—once warm and golden—now burned with an eerie glow. His black robes were lined with blood-red runes, their energy pulsing in the darkness.

Kael’s breath hitched. No. It can’t be.

"Kael," the figure spoke. His voice was familiar, yet twisted.

Kael took a step back. "Raius?"

A smirk played on Raius’s lips, but it wasn’t his. Something else lurked beneath his expression.

"You should not have come here," Raius said. His voice carried an unnatural echo, layered with a presence Kael recognized all too well.

The Demon God.

Realization crashed over him like a storm. Raius… had died. But he hadn’t simply vanished—he had been taken. Possessed.

Kael’s grip tightened. He had lost everything before—his power, his allies, entire lifetimes spent fighting wars that reset with each new world. But this?

This was personal.

Raius raised his hand, and black chains erupted from the ground. “I’ll give you a choice, Kael. Kneel… or die.”

Kael’s jaw tightened. He had nothing—no cultivation, no energy, nothing that could match an Immortal 5-Star cultivator.

But he had one advantage.

He had experience.

He reached into his inventory. If he played his cards right, he might survive long enough to figure out how to free Raius.

His eyes locked onto his former friend’s.

“I don’t kneel.”

The battle had begun.

Kael gritted his teeth as Raius raised his hand. The black chains twisted and coiled, their ends lined with jagged spikes. The temple walls trembled under their crushing force.

“You’re too late, Kael,” Raius said, his voice layered with something unnatural. “The Demon God already owns this world.”

Kael’s mind raced. He had no cultivation, no energy reserves—but he wasn’t powerless. He had fought battles like this before.

The binding talisman beneath Raius flickered. It wouldn’t hold him for long. Kael had to act.

He dove forward, retrieving a soul-threading dagger from his system. The blade shimmered with an eerie blue light—one of the few weapons capable of piercing through soul corruption. If he could just land a hit—

But Raius was faster.

With a flick of his wrist, the chains shot forward. Kael barely twisted away as one lashed across his arm, searing his skin with cold energy. He stumbled, rolling behind a shattered pillar. His breathing was ragged, but his mind was sharp.

Think, Kael. You don’t have power, but you have knowledge. Use it.

Raius stepped forward, his corrupted eyes narrowing. “Still relying on tricks?” He swung his sword in a slow arc, dragging it against the stone floor. The runes on his blade pulsed—dark energy coiling like living shadows.

Kael knew that sword. The Abyss Fang. A weapon forged from the soul of a fallen saint. One clean hit, and it would rip him apart.

He needed to turn the tide.

Slipping a hand into his inventory, Kael retrieved a small silver coin engraved with ancient symbols. It was a one-time-use artifact, one he had saved across lifetimes.

A Flash Seal.

He grinned. This should buy me a few seconds.

Raius lunged. Kael tossed the coin at his feet. A burst of blinding silver light exploded outward, forcing Raius to recoil, covering his eyes.

Kael moved.

He dashed through the opening, slicing the soul-threading dagger across Raius’s shoulder. The blade hummed, drawing out the corrupted essence within. A faint whisper of Raius’s real soul flickered in the air—just for a moment.

Kael saw it. He’s still in there.

Raius staggered, clutching his shoulder. His face twisted—not in pain, but confusion. The corruption wavered for the briefest second.

Kael took a deep breath. “You’re not gone yet, Raius. I can save you.”

But Raius laughed—a cold, hollow sound. “Save me? Kael, you still don’t understand.”

The shadows surged. The temple’s ruins trembled as the presence of the Ten Saints grew stronger. Faint, ghostly figures loomed in the air above them, watching with piercing, otherworldly eyes.

Kael’s chest tightened. He had fought against impossible odds before. He had faced death more times than he could count.

But for the first time in this life… he felt truly small.

This wasn’t just a fight for survival anymore.

It was a war.

And he wasn’t ready.