The Forsaken Disciple: Rise of the Immortal Emperor

Chapter 3: The Forgotten Immortal (Part IIII)

Dark figures surrounded a burning village while the heavens themselves seemed to split apart under waves of terrifying spiritual power.

The man fought alone, one sword against countless enemies. Every strike shattered mountains, and every swing painted the sky with rivers of light.

Even so, he was hopelessly outnumbered.

Within a glowing formation, the woman held the infant tightly against her chest as golden chains wrapped themselves around the child’s tiny body, one after another, before sinking beneath his skin.

Chen stared in horror. “What are they doing?”

The old man answered quietly. “They sealed your destiny.”

The hall fell into a suffocating silence.

“They... what?” he asked 

“They sealed your spiritual roots,” The old man said without sympathy 

Chen’s mind went blank. “My... spiritual roots?”

The old man nodded. “They were never broken.”

Each word crashed into Chen like thunder. “They were sealed.”

The world seemed to tilt beneath him. “No...” His breathing turned ragged. “That’s impossible. I’ve tried cultivating for years. I couldn’t absorb spiritual qi. I couldn’t sense my meridians. I failed every examination.”

His voice rose with every sentence, sharpened by disbelief and old pain. “They told me my spiritual roots were shattered!”

The old man met his gaze with quiet pity. “They believed exactly what your parents wanted them to believe.”

Chen froze. “They... lied?, They deceived the world.”

The old man raised a single finger, and golden light gathered above it. Within moments, countless intricate runes appeared in the air and coiled around one another like chains.

“Your spiritual roots possess a nature that should never have existed in this era,” he said as the runes tightened. “They could not be destroyed. They could only be hidden.”

Chen could do nothing but stare.

The old man’s gaze hardened. “You were never abandoned by Heaven.”

Those words rolled through the palace like a decree, and the stars beyond the walls flickered in answer.

“You were...” He leaned forward, his voice dropping low. “...feared.”

Chen’s pupils shrank. “...What did you say?”

The old man did not hesitate. “Heaven feared you.”

For a long moment, no one spoke. Even the rivers of starlight beyond the palace seemed to pause, as though the universe itself were holding its breath.

Chen could only stare.

His entire life, he had believed himself to be worthless—a burden, a failure, a mistake that even fate had rejected.

And now this ancient being stood before him and claimed that Heaven itself had feared his existence before he had even learned to walk. It was absurd. Impossible.

And yet every impossible thing the old man had said until now had proven true.

The old man exhaled slowly. “There was once a bloodline capable of overturning the order of the Nine Heavens. It challenged the Heavenly Dao itself, shattered immortal dynasties, and rewrote the laws of cultivation.”

Then his eyes returned to Chen. “That bloodline... flows through your veins.”

Chen’s hands began to tremble. “No... I don’t understand.”

“You will.” The old man rose to his feet.

For the first time, his overwhelming presence flooded the entire hall. The stars dimmed, the palace trembled, and the vast chessboard beneath them transformed into an endless constellation.

“I have watched civilizations rise and fall,” he said. “I have witnessed gods kneel, and I have buried emperors.”

His voice carried a sorrow so vast it felt older than time itself.  “And for ten thousand years... I have waited.”

He stepped around the chessboard until he stood directly before Chen. “You are the final descendant,” he said. “You are the last hope.”

Chen lifted his head and searched the old man’s ancient eyes. “So... everything they said about me...” His voice wavered. “...was a lie?”

“Not entirely.”  The old man’s smile was faint and sad. “You truly could not cultivate, because the seal your parents placed upon you was absolute. It protected you, but it also imprisoned you.”

At those words, memories surged through Chen’s mind: the mocking laughter, the lonely nights, the endless failures, and the countless times he had wondered why Heaven seemed to hate him.

Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, not because of the humiliation he had endured, but because for the first time in his life, he finally knew the truth.

His parents had never abandoned him. They had sacrificed everything, not to curse his future, but to preserve it.

Chen slowly lowered his head, and a single tear fell onto the crystal floor. “I...” His voice broke. “I thought they didn’t want me.”

The old man rested a hand on his shoulder. “They loved you enough… to die so you could live.”

Chen closed his eyes.

The grief he had buried since childhood finally broke free. He did not weep loudly, nor did he scream. Instead, he simply stood there in silence while tears rolled down his face, and the old man allowed him that moment without interruption.

When enough time had passed, the old man’s expression turned solemn. “Our time grows short.”

Chen looked up at once. “What do you mean?”

“The inheritance has awakened,” The old man replied. “And so have those searching for it.”

At that moment, the palace shuddered violently. A deep, distant roar rolled through the stars, and cracks began to spread across the endless sky.

The old man’s face darkened. “They have sensed your arrival.”

Chen instinctively stepped back. “Who?”

The old man did not answer.

Instead, he slowly raised his right hand, and ancient golden light gathered at his fingertip. It came to rest only inches from Chen’s forehead.

When he spoke again, his voice carried the weight of countless ages. “The first seal...”

The golden light flared brighter and brighter until it illuminated the entire palace. Outside, billions of stars shone as one.

The old man met Chen’s eyes. “...shall now break.”