Sword Sovereign Against The Heaven

"It's this golden scroll..." Han Zhen murmured.

A long-buried memory surged within him, rising from the depths of his soul like a tide returning to shore.

In his previous life, he had stumbled upon this very scroll in a hidden realm, a place long lost to time. It had been a fateful discovery, one that had set his heart ablaze with ambition.

The scroll was ancient, its origins unfathomable, its secrets locked away behind an invisible barrier. No matter how much he studied it, no matter how many techniques he used, it had remained an enigma, a riddle beyond mortal comprehension. Knowing he couldn't unravel its mysteries, he had forgotten about it.

And the day he stood against that celestial divinity, defying the will of heaven itself, the golden scroll had been with him. And when he fell, when his soul was torn from his dying body, the scroll had vanished alongside him.

But now, here it was, floating deep within his Spirit Core.

"Could it be… my reincarnation is connected to this golden scroll?" he wondered aloud, his mind spinning with possibilities.

Was it a mere coincidence? Or had this divine artifact chosen to bind itself to his very essence?

His gaze returned to the golden inscriptions. They had not been there before, or had they? Had he simply lacked the ability to perceive them?

The characters pulsed like living flames, their glow resonating with his very being. The answers he had once sought so desperately were now within reach.

Han Zhen inhaled deeply, steadying himself. The moment his focus locked onto the golden scroll, its glow intensified.

A burst of golden radiance erupted from the scroll, illuminating the vast space of his inner world.

The inscriptions, once rigid and unknowable, liquefied into shimmering sand, a golden tide that surged toward him with unrelenting force.

He gasped as the sea of light crashed into his soul. The impact was overwhelming, like an ocean pouring into a single drop of water. Knowledge, vast and boundless, flooded his consciousness, filling every corner of his mind. Words, concepts, mysteries beyond mortal understanding, each one seared itself into his very being, reshaping him from within.

His breath slowed. His body trembled. His Spirit Core vibrated.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, revelation settling upon him.

There was no doubt now.

The Primordial Essence Art was no ordinary cultivation method.

It was a path to true transcendence. A technique not only for refining spiritual energy but for tempering the body itself, merging vitality and divinity into one.

To wield it was to defy the natural order, to step beyond mortality, and to ascend, not as a mere spirit, but as a divine in flesh.

As Han Zhen remained seated in deep meditation, an overwhelming realization settled within him. The Primordial Essence Art was far more than just another cultivation technique; it was the key to true invincibility.

If he mastered it to perfection, he would not simply become powerful; he would stand above all, an existence beyond mortal comprehension.

To reach a step beyond what his past self could reach.

The mere thought sent a shiver through him.

To wield power so great that he could pluck the sun, moon, and stars from the heavens with a flick of his fingers to command the fabric of reality itself, was a temptation unlike any other.

He could almost feel the universe trembling at the possibility, waiting to bow before his will.

But then, something clicked.

His years of struggle, the countless failed attempts to absorb the world's vitality, the frustration of being unable to progress, it all made sense now.

The golden scroll had been the cause.

It had not simply entered his Spirit Core; it had fundamentally changed him.

Unlike conventional cultivation methods that required external energy from the heavens and earth, the Primordial Essence Art was entirely different.

It did not rely on outside forces but instead cultivated one's own vitality from within.

It was self-sustaining. A power that belonged solely to him.

The revelation was staggering. This technique didn't just make him independent of the world's energy, it made him immune to its limitations.

Then, another realization struck. One even more profound.

In his past life, before his fall, he had uncovered a terrifying truth, the Holy Firmament itself was shackled.

The so-called "natural energy" that every cultivator relied on was tainted, and restricted. Mortals could cultivate for thousands of years, but their growth would always be limited, forever beneath the divinity that controlled the very essence of the world.

It was by design.

A system of oppression so absolute that no one had ever truly challenged it. The divines sat upon their thrones, watching mortals struggle, knowing that no matter how hard they fought, they could never rise beyond their fated place.

Han Zhen's fists clenched.

But he was different now.

With the Primordial Essence Art, he would no longer need the world's energy. The shackles that had bound all others would mean nothing to him.

His power would not come from the Holy Firmament; it would come from himself. His body would ascend to divine on its own terms.

The divinity, the so-called divine rulers, were no longer unreachable beings.

They were enemies.

Enemies that he would crush.

A storm raged within him, years of suppressed anger and defiance erupting all at once. He had died once before, his dreams shattered, his ambitions crushed beneath the power of divinity.

But this time would be different.

"Divinities… wait for me! I will destroy the Holy Firmament and slaughter every last one of you!"

Han Zhen slowly exhaled, forcing himself to calm down.

Anger alone would not grant him the strength he needed. Revenge without power was meaningless.

He had a path now. A clear direction. His purpose was set in stone.

Wasting no time, he closed his eyes and focused his mind once more. The fiery emotions cooled, replaced by deep concentration. He needed to cultivate now.

The Primordial Essence Art stirred within him. Like a long-dormant beast awakening, it pulsed through his veins, calling upon the hidden reserves within his body.

For years, he had consumed rare elixirs and precious medicines, yet much of their energy had gone to waste due to his body's inability to absorb them properly. But now that energy was his to command.

Under the guidance of the Primordial Essence Art, the residual medicinal power that had been buried within his body for years began to surge forth.

A warm, golden energy flowed through his meridians, merging with his qi and blood, reinforcing his very foundation. The transformation had begun.

...

[A/N: Let's give him A Broken HAX cuz why not.]