Chapter 298: Ancestors, Please Bear Witness

Endless black sky stretched above, its gray haze obscuring every inch—no trace of starlight, not even the moon to be seen.

Boom!

The entire night sky, previously veiled by clouds, suddenly blazed to life, brighter than daylight, as thousands of thunderbolts surged like floodwaters, like spears of divine retribution, raging in fury.

Thunder, storm, and torrential rain descended together.

In this extreme weather, the face of a handsome man, etched with sorrow, was illuminated by the blinding light carried by the thunder falling from the sky—and by the nameless grave before him.

“Toqi!”

A young man, bearing a faint resemblance to him but with an ambiguous, morally ambiguous aura, hurriedly called out from behind, “This weather… it feels terribly ominous!”

The man called Toqi had no murderous intent in his eyes; at their depths lay a sorrow that had seen through all worldly strife and transcended life and death.

Since he began walking this land, over the past three years, he had visited many famed places—Taishan, Huashan, Chongshan… met countless people, witnessed countless events, and encountered countless fist arts…

He met the disciples of Huashan’s Four-Bound Fist, a kind man who wielded Hengshan Tongbi Fist, a monstrous brute who practiced Huashan Jiaodi Xi, a beautiful woman who carried the Lan Mountain Red Fist, twin brothers who inherited the Twin Divine Thunder and Lightning Fist, a ghost who wielded Emei Fist, and the Black Mountain Yin Shape Fist, another assassin’s fist art…

Some became his companions; others fought him to the death. He killed hundreds, bore sorrow tenfold greater, and in this process, he gradually came to understand one thing—

His fist,

the Beidou fist,

should not be merely a killing fist, not meant only to take lives.

Beidou Fist is an assassin’s art that exploits meridians and acupoints to kill, yet when used properly, it can also save lives—so even Beidou’s power can be used to “create.”

But this fist still existed only in his imagination, incomplete, so Toqi wandered the earth, using Beidou’s acupoint techniques to save the weak while seeking that one chance.

He drew a deep breath, letting the cold rain pelt his entire body, his white martial robe clinging tightly, draining his warmth.

Yet he remained silent, gazing at the desolate grave pointing toward the barren sky.

He did not know where he had come to, for he had only followed the guidance of the Luolong Pan.

Luolong Pan,

was the relic of someone,

the relic left behind by a supreme master,

whose fist art had reached the pinnacle.

Far beyond the ancient Eastern land, beyond the sea,

on this mysterious unknown land,

there once lived a being who challenged the gods with nothing but his fists.

His relics and legacy had reached the present.

At its corner, a stone stele stood silently,

bearing the covenant of the stars,

and the fist arts of the world—

“Beidou Divine Fist,” “Xidou Moon Fist.”

Yes, the grave before him, its inscriptions erased by time and age, held the remains of a married couple.

First Ancestor of Beidou, Xiu Xuan.

Daughter of the Yue clan, Ye Ma.

Dreamlike light, like fragments of stars, slowly rose from the nameless tomb, swirling around Toqi like sentient fireflies, gathering in his hands.

Under this gentle radiance, his jet-black hair shimmered; his face, tilted upward, resembled a saint descending upon the mortal world—profoundly sacred and serene.

He suddenly sat cross-legged, back straight.

His hands clasped together at his chest.

“Om———!”

As he assumed this posture before the nameless grave, change occurred.

With the vibration of the surrounding air, fragments of memory—rising from the earth, from the corpse of the master, from buried history—trembled, rejoiced, then rushed eagerly into Toqi’s fists.

In this moment, a sound like a wolf’s mournful howl seemed to echo—but when the spectral figures of a husband and wife appeared before their descendant, the ferocious howling ceased.

The next instant, the clouds parted.

The clear night sky, as if washed clean, revealed countless stars once more, each vying to shine with its own light—yet the Big Dipper blazed like fire, its tangible radiance filling the entire heavens.

“That’s…”

The young man behind Toqi stared at the sky in astonishment; his attention had been snatched away in that instant—his eyes held the scattered stars beneath the black veil, and beside the towering Big Dipper…

“Strange—why is there a tiny star glowing crimson beside the Big Dipper? And its light is brighter than the moon! How is that possible?!”

He asked, puzzled; this did not match his memory of the Big Dipper—it felt cold, terrifying.

“That’s the Death Star…”

Toqi gazed at the brightest star beside the Big Dipper—not only his companion, but the star had also appeared in his own eyes. A bitter smile touched his lips. “In Beidou’s legend… whoever sees the Death Star will die soon.”

It was Heaven’s revelation of this man’s fate.

To the weak beneath fate’s melody, no matter how they struggled, they could not escape this death… yet it was also Heaven’s invitation to the strong.

“You saw the Death Star too? Then… the final hour is near.”

Toqi stood in the night wind, silent for a long while.

His eyes, fixed on the heavens roaring with stars, and on the star representing [Death], its color like blood—pure, concentrated…

Finally, Toqi spoke softly without turning.

“Then… Amiba, let’s go.”

Steam rose from his body; his white martial robe, fitted to his balanced frame, gradually dried, and with each step he took, the damp ground beneath him turned dry and hard, each step strengthening his aura. His black hair, neither long nor short, brimmed with formidable power within this perfect body.

“Ohhh…”

The young man named Amiba hurried to keep pace with his current “teacher.” He cared nothing for the Death Star, nor did he believe any “death legend” could bring down the man before him.

But no matter where Toqi chose to go, Amiba had resolved to follow him.

Soon, soon.

The world was screaming its death cry.

It would be the final battle of fate—where Heaven refused to abandon, and the end arrived.

(End of Chapter)