A Luz Branca da Lua Rompe o Caixão

Sixty years ago, the foremost swordsman of Sword Pavilion, the Revered Moonlight Swordmaster, became entangled with a demon cultivator but ultimately was defeated. She fell into the Myriad Heavens Secret Realm and never emerged again.

News of this sent shockwaves throughout the world, astonishing everyone.

Some mourned, some grieved deeply, while others secretly felt relieved.

A few whispered quietly that the Revered Moonlight Swordmaster was overrated, having perished so easily at the hands of demons, and that over the years she had been exalted far beyond her true worth.

Day after day, year after year, such words faded into the moonlit nights. Gradually, fewer spoke of the Swordmaster, for the mortal world never lacked stories—one tale ending as another began, filled with love, hate, and partings, as stirring as ever.

Only the bright moon hung high in the sky, shining unchanged.

...

The night was dark and heavy, winds stirring within the Myriad Heavens Realm, faint cries and wails echoing.

In the midst of chaos, someone stirred awake inside a coffin.

"…"

The person inside stared blankly upward.

Her eyes were hollow and dazed, clearly not yet fully aware.

Trapped in this confined space for so long, even memories had grown distant.

And those old acquaintances—whether good or bad—their images had become blurred.

At the final moment, she only remembered a vague blue flame.

Then, an endless darkness and deathly silence.

"Wh-why is there laughter? Boss, shouldn’t we