Venerable Demon King & The Doting Immortal (QT)

"For you to find that woman," the Emperor's voice was a whisper, yet it filled the vast space, "it must not have been coincidental."

Greater power, ancient and immeasurable, uncoiled from the Emperor. It didn't rush like a wind or crash like a wave. It simply was majestic and terrifying. The pressure descended, a mountain of invisible force, and pinned the Demon King. His soul convulsed.

Cracks spread across his face, a network of lines like shattered porcelain. Black veins, thick as rope, split open and crawled down his neck and chest. He was coming apart.

He tried to scream, but no sound came. Divine force sealed his mouth, trapping the horror inside. Only the tremor of his body and the widening of his eyes showed the pain. His defiance, his dark pride, it all crumbled.

Then, a voice echoed inside his mind, a cold and absolute thing. "I will only let you go when you speak the name of who is helping you."

The Demon King's soul buckled. The pain was no longer just pain. It was dissolution. He felt himself unraveling, his essence pulled taut, each thread about to snap. Just before the final strand gave way, the truth broke free from his terror.

I will speak.

The pressure lifted. The invisible mountain of power receded, not with a roar, but with a silent, steady withdrawal, like a tide pulling back from the shore. The Demon King's soul, ravaged and weak, flickered in the mirror. He collapsed, his form barely holding together. His breaths were ragged gasps, each one a struggle.

"I... I don't know their name," he rasped, the words a painful whisper. "But I remember... a pattern, yes a pattern. On their wrist. They said they would help me. They led me to that woman... in the brothel."

The Divine Emperor's eyes narrowed. A flicker of something, a hint of recognition, passed through his gaze. His face remained a mask of cold stone. "Describe it," he commanded.

The Demon King closed his eyes. The memory was sharp, burned into his mind. He recalled the sigil etched into flesh, a swirling mark like a serpent devouring its own tail. Jagged lines surrounded it, pulsing with an unnatural light.

As he spoke, the Emperor's expression hardened. The chamber grew darker, as if the very air recoiled. The Emperor knew that mark. It was the Seal of Zhenmie Yu, a divine scar of eternal banishment. A shimmering paradox of torment and beauty. Its jagged outer ring of thorns pulsed with the weight of unspeakable sins, and the black spiral at its core was a maddening abyss.

Celestial glyphs burned along its edges, declaring the bearer "Irredeemable. Unforgiven. Unmade." Fracture lines radiated outward, glowing with a sickly green hue, the color of a soul's decay.

This seal was more than a punishment. It was a sentence to a realm where time itself devoured immortals, atom by atom, for thousands of years.

There were only two who had ever been subjected to such a punishment. One was an ancient immortal, fifty thousand years ago, who had tried to rebel against the heavens. He had sought to devour entire worlds just to increase his power. The second... was Xue Wuheng.

Before Han Jun, there was his senior brother, Xue Wuheng, a force filled with bloody chaos.

Once, he had been the paragon of divinity. Xue Wuheng was the revered Divine Emperor, standing at the pinnacle of celestial authority. His name was spoken with reverence among the immortals. His judgments were unquestioned, his aura radiant with the purity of heaven's mandate. There was no blemish on his record, no whisper of dissent.

He was flawless.

Until he wasn't.

Behind the veil of his sanctity, Xue Wuheng's hunger grew insatiable. True, boundless power called to him like a siren's song. In secret, he began to slaughter cultivation sects, devouring their spiritual cores and absorbing their qi. He blamed the carnage on the demonic sects, on the chaos of the Demon Realm. And the Divine Council believed him. The more he killed, the stronger he became.

Then one day, he crossed a line no immortal dared approach. He struck down a fellow immortal mid-tribulation, stealing the power for himself. The heavens trembled. The Divine Realm erupted in fury.

The Council convened, and for the first time in eons, they were unanimous: Xue Wuheng's authority was revoked. His name was stripped from the celestial records. His soul was marked for eternal banishment.

But Xue Wuheng did not go quietly. He fought back with the wrath of a god scorned.

Divine immortals fell beneath his blade. Temples burned. The skies wept blood. The mortal realm, caught in the crossfire, descended into chaos. Demons surged forth, sensing opportunity in the carnage.

And then, from the depths of meditation, Han Jun was summoned.

Xue Wuheng's junior brother. Quiet. Unassuming. A prodigy whose cultivation had surpassed even the Divine Council's expectations. He entered the battlefield like a whisper, and the war ended in a breath.

Xue Wuheng, bound in divine chains, glared at Han Jun with eyes blazing like dying stars. His power was sealed, his body broken but his fury remained. Han Jun stepped forward, solemn and resolute. With his own hand, he etched the Seal of Zhenmie Yu onto his senior brother's wrist.

As he cast him into the Realm of Annihilation, he found out his senior brother's hidden secret. A truth he had never meant to know. Xue Wuheng had loved him for hundreds of years and Han Jun had no idea.

Han Jun had personally sent to oblivion that day so how could he be here now, walking the mortal realm once more? He bore the seal that should have devoured him. It was unthinkable. It was impossible. And yet, he had helped the Demon King just to gain access into the divine realm. Now, he was targeting his son.

The Demon King began to beg. The words were a useless litany of pleas and promises. The Divine Emperor ignored him. He shoved the Demon King back into the mirror, a final act of dismissal, and then vanished.

He reappeared in a different realm. A barren land of eerie red landscapes. The place was icy cold, a chill that cut through bone and marrow. The Divine Emperor didn't see who he was looking for. He vanished again, reappearing at the top of a desolate mountain.