Descendants of Immortals... Born Holding a Ticket...

The Azure Sea Sect.

At the summit of the main peak.

The morning light had yet to fully reach the council hall, but the inside was already in complete disarray.

More than a dozen bodies lay strewn across the floor. They were all elders of the sect.

Their deaths had been horrific.

Some had holes punched through their chests. Some had half their skulls sliced away. Others had been twisted into grotesque shapes, as though something had forcibly wrenched their spines apart.

The stench of blood was so thick it seemed impossible to disperse.

At the center of the hall stood a three-zhang-tall altar, silent and unmoving.

The altar was entirely black, its surface covered in densely packed runes. In the darkness, those runes flickered with a dim red glow.

A man in a gray robe stood beside the altar.

His head lowered, he was moving the bodies one by one onto it.

His actions were mechanical, his face expressionless.

As though he were hauling logs.

“Is that enough?”

A woman’s voice came from the depths of the hall.

It was soft, yet it brought the gray-robed man’s movements to a halt.

He raised his head and looked toward the broad sect master’s throne at the far end of the hall.

A woman in an azure sword-robe sat there.

Her features were breathtaking, and her bearing otherworldly.

“Not yet.”

The gray-robed man shook his head, his voice hoarse. “We need at least thirty more.”

Ning Shuangyue was silent for a moment.

“Then continue.”

She rose and walked to the window, watching the sky gradually brighten outside.

“When dawn breaks, go to the city outskirts.”

“Say that you discovered unusual activity and need to conduct a purge.”

“And while you’re at it…”

She paused.

“Bring back a few more fools who don’t know their place…”

The gray-robed man said nothing.

He merely lowered his head and continued moving the bodies.

Ning Shuangyue turned around and watched his back.

“Do you regret it?”

The gray-robed man’s movements paused.

“I do not.”

He raised his head. There was no emotion in his eyes.

“My master’s path is this disciple’s path.”

Ning Shuangyue smiled.

The smile was faint, yet carried an indescribable sorrow.

“I have been stuck at the Mahayana Realm for five hundred years.”

She walked to the altar and reached out to touch the cold runes.

“Five hundred years.”

“I’ve tried every method. I’ve consumed countless heavenly treasures and gone into seclusion dozens of times.”

“But that threshold is like a wall, blocking me no matter how hard I try.”

A trace of unwillingness entered her voice.

“I refuse to accept this.”

“I’ve clearly made it this far. Why can’t I take that final step?”

“Just because there are supposedly only three thousand True Immortals in this world?”

“Why?”

“I’m no worse than them.”

“In fact, many of those immortals possess talents far inferior to mine.”

“But simply because I was born later than they were?”

“Must I wait until they vacate a position before I have any chance of advancing further?”

“Yet some immortals cling desperately to their positions, waiting until their descendants reach that level before they are willing to breathe their last. That way, their descendants can seamlessly inherit the vacant position. Even if outsiders discover what is happening, by the time they attempt to break through, it is already too late.”

“The descendants of immortals are born holding a ticket…”

“Is that fair?”

“I truly refuse to accept this…”

The gray-robed man did not respond.

He simply listened in silence.

“Later, I met him.”

Ning Shuangyue suddenly spoke again.

“He said he had a way to help me break through.”

“The price was…”

She glanced at the bodies scattered across the floor.

“To feed this altar with blood and souls.”

“Once the altar has absorbed enough…”

The gray-robed man finally lifted his head.

“Master, can that person truly be trusted?”

Ning Shuangyue fell silent.

She turned around and walked back to the sect master’s throne.

“I have no choice.”

“You know that…”

“I refused to accept this reality, so I attempted to challenge an immortal head-on while still in the Mahayana Realm…”

“I almost succeeded…”

“But then he summoned another immortal… The two of them joined forces…”

“They did not want me to win. They could not allow a Mahayana cultivator to forcibly seize an immortal position…”

“Otherwise, too many people would no longer be able to sit comfortably in their places…”

“I was lucky to escape with my life after that battle. I have only a hundred years of life left.”

“Rather than wait for death, I might as well gamble everything.”

She sat down and gazed at the sky outside, which was gradually growing brighter.

“Besides…”

Her gaze drifted, becoming somewhat distant.

“Within that Star-Sea Phenomenon, there is something…”

“If I can obtain it…”

She did not finish.

The gray-robed man lowered his head and continued moving the bodies.

The hall once more sank into deathly silence.

Only the sound of bodies being dragged across the floor broke the stillness—wet, rasping scrapes that echoed through the chamber.

…

Two and a half hours later.

The sky was already bright.

Inside the council hall atop the main peak.

Ning Shuangyue stood at the doorway.

Her lips moved, as though she were saying something.

But no sound came out.

Only a complicated emotion flashed through her eyes.

Then.

She turned around and sat back down on the sect master’s throne.

The altar within the hall continued to emit its dim red glow.

The runes seemed to have come alive, slowly shifting through the darkness.

“It’s almost time.”

Ning Shuangyue closed her eyes.

“Very soon.”

Her voice was soft, yet carried an almost fanatical obsession.

“When the Star-Sea Phenomenon appears…”

“I’ll be able to obtain that thing.”

“When that time comes…”

She did not continue.

But the altar in the hall seemed to sense something.

The red glow of the runes suddenly grew more intense.

The entire hall was dyed blood-red.