Chapter One: Prologue—The Lament of the Moonstring Lute

The tattered clouds were swept by the wind, and in the span of a moment, banners lay scattered chaotically across the ground.

Immortals and demons clashed, leaving devastation as far as the eye could see.

I could only let out a cold, mirthless laugh as I gazed at the crimson blood flowing over the earth.

A million demon soldiers had already fallen beneath the blades of the celestial army; even the guardian of the Demon Realm, Chixiao, was grievously wounded and now missing.

“Today, if the Demon Clan is not vanquished in one stroke, I am unworthy of my title as Heavenly Lord.”

When I saw him, the Haotian Halberd in his hand, standing before a million celestial soldiers, the halberd pointed at me, I understood that this day, there was no escaping my doom.

“Heavenly Lord?”

I sneered, my voice icy. “All the Six Realms know that Zilian Immortal Lord is nothing more than a lotus that cultivated for a thousand years—at best, merely an immortal, hardly worthy of the title of High God. With so many celestial soldiers watching, why boast and gild your own face with such empty words?”

His expression grew darker, his eyes sharp and cold as he glanced at me.

“So what if I am not a High God? The Demon Realm’s ambition to conquer the Celestial Realm is, in my eyes, an even greater delusion.”

His words rang with resolve, yet to my ears, they were unbearably harsh.

“I believe it possible.”

I smiled faintly and stepped closer, drawing nearer to him. Raising my hand to shield my eyes from the blinding, blood-red setting sun, I looked at him—no longer clad in his usual purple robes, but in golden armor that suited him all the same. It was no wonder I had shamelessly entangled myself with him for thousands of years.

“The music played by the Moonstring Zither is a dirge of weeping blood, a sound that bewilders the mind. Such a divine instrument cannot fall into the hands of your Demon Clan. If you surrender the Moonstring Zither willingly today, I will spare your life.”

At length, he spoke slowly.

“Spare only my life?”

I smiled alluringly, taking another step closer, closer to him and closer to the Haotian Halberd.

I did not know what I truly wanted—only that I wished to draw nearer to him, ever closer, to test whether the pain of the halberd piercing my body could rival the agony in my heart.

“The Moonstring Zither is not of the Celestial Realm; it belongs to the Demon Realm—to me alone. In all the Six Realms, none do not covet it. Yet I did not expect you, Zilian Immortal Lord, to be among them. Truly, you surprise me!”

I smiled at his face. “If you desire it, Zilian Immortal Lord, you may exchange something for it.”

He furrowed his brow, his gaze disdainful.

“And what would that be?”

“That item is in your possession, Zilian Immortal Lord. The question is only whether you are willing to part with it.”

“Speak.”

His voice was cold as ever.

I stepped past the Haotian Halberd and stood before him, reaching out to encircle his waist. His body trembled violently at my touch, and in the next instant, his palm struck my chest with full force. Caught unprepared, I was sent flying, crashing heavily to the ground. My head struck a rock with such force that my vision spun and blood poured freely.

A cold, hollow laugh escaped me. I wiped the blood from my face with a sleeve, leaving it damp and stained. As I cleared the blood from my lips, more flowed swiftly from my brow—no matter how much I wiped, it only came faster and more abundantly.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Not so long ago, he held me in his arms, whispering into my ear that he would forsake his celestial title and wander the Six Realms with me. How, in just a few days, could he harden his heart, pointing the Haotian Halberd at me, striking me down?

I wiped away the blood at the corner of my mouth, and looked up as he parted his lips, words hesitating on his tongue. I could only laugh. Propping myself up with both hands, I slowly rose to face him. “If you wish for the Moonstring Zither, you may have it—so long as Zilian Immortal Lord is willing to trade yourself for it. Then, I shall not begrudge handing the zither over with both hands.”

“Insolence.”

His voice was ice, his expression grim and unreadable, his gaze disdainful, the golden armor dazzling in the dying sun.

“Surrender the Moonstring Zither, or do not blame me for showing no mercy.”

“No mercy?” I laughed bitterly. “When was it that Zilian Immortal Lord ever showed me mercy?”

His expression faltered, his eyes reddened with fury.

A thousand years of longing, and this is the answer he gives me. My heart grows colder than death itself; when there is no warmth, what meaning is there in living?

Laughing in my daze, I looked up at him. “Do you think, now that most of the Demon Realm has been annihilated, that I, the Demon Lord, still have the face to go on living?”

I raised my hand, conjuring the Moonstring Zither. Cradling its body in one hand, I turned to face him and declared, voice sharp, “Though my Demon Clan falters and thousands are slain, as long as I remain, I will not let your Celestial Realm invade ours.”

With that, I stroked the zither. An ethereal, mournful melody began to rise. As I watched the thousands of immortals not far away, terror twisting their faces as they longed to flee, I could only sneer.

“What a pitiful lot, clinging to life, yet daring to call yourselves saviors of the world. Now, in the clash between demon and immortal, you cannot even stand against a single woman like me. How laughable.”

My hand swept across the strings, a shrill note of slaughter erupting.

“Stop!” His face darkened, and he shouted in fury.

“Stop? Zilian Immortal Lord, do you think you can still restrain me now?” My hands stilled and I stepped back, the Moonstring Zither held close to my chest. “My kin are dead by the thousands. Your Celestial Realm must pay with ten, a hundred times as many immortal lives to appease the hatred in my heart.”

With a flick of my finger, the piercing notes grew ever more grating.

Cries for mercy rose, corpses piling, blood flowing in rivers.

“Stop, stop now!” He shouted at me again and again, his eyes blood-red, more searing than the blood washing over the earth.

I waited—to see when he would finally lose control.

At last, he raised the Haotian Halberd and thrust it towards me. In a blink, the blade pierced cleanly through my body.

I smiled, my face cold as ice. So, even a demon’s heart can ache.

How laughable. I mocked my own foolishness. Zilian—if I had never met you, never fallen in love, would my chances in this battle have been greater? At least my heart would not ache as it does now.

With effort, I gripped the end of the Haotian Halberd and pulled it from my chest. My hands were slick and hot with blood. Lifting my gaze to his stunned expression, I asked, “Zilian, do you remember the words you once spoke to me?”

Step by step, I retreated toward the edge of the cliff, blood streaming down my face, ignoring his look of shock. I threw my head back and laughed, my voice ringing clear and fierce: “With my blood as a curse, the day the Moonstring Zither plays again shall be the day the sun and moon of the Six Realms are thrown into chaos. On that day, you, Zilian Immortal Lord, shall fall to the mortal world, doomed to eternal damnation!”

With those words, I spared him not another glance, and leapt from the precipice.

Hatred filled my heart as I uttered the curse, never realizing that henceforth, it would doom not only him, but myself as well.

Eternal damnation—what a fitting fate. In the end, it became our fate together.