Ethereal Rebirth: Path of the Void Sovereign

“When you stand before the heavens, remember — not all gods were born, some were broken.”
— From the Void Sovereign’s Silent Journal, Fragment 12

The Divine Conclave of Nine Stars was not a palace — it was a floating continent, suspended between the upper firmament and the Celestial Sea. It gleamed with eternal light, powered by stars imprisoned in crystal.

Jiang Chen and Ruyan arrived aboard a spirit ark veiled in mirrored lotus petals, gifted by the Mirror Sect to honor their trial ascension.

They were not alone.

Sects from all realms had gathered:

• Disciples clad in gold-fire silks from the Solar Flame Pavilion

• Serpentine cultivators of the Ancient Scale Bloodline

• Pale-robed twins from the Chrono-Dream Sect, whose eyes shifted with time

Each bowed only to power.

And all stared when Jiang Chen stepped onto the platform.

“He bears no clan crest.”

“He carries a void lotus. I saw it flare during the trial.”

“And she… she bears the Moonlotus Flameheart. That bloodline was extinct!”

None dared approach. Not yet.

But all eyes watched.

The hall was shaped like a nine-pointed star, with nine elevated thrones for each Divine Realm representative. Below, vast marble steps where invitees and nominees stood.

Flame Envoy Yuexin bowed deeply as she led them in.

A voice rang from the central throne — smooth, ageless.

“Jiang Chen. Ruyan. You have been summoned not only for your… achievements. But because the heavens feel unrest.”

The speaker wore a mask shaped like a burning sun.

“The Void Lotus is stirring. So too is the seal beneath the firmament.”

Jiang Chen remained calm. “And what does the Conclave intend to do?”

Another voice — this one older, rasping with age and pride — responded:

“We intend to test you. In body. In truth. And in allegiance.”

From above, a giant divine sphere descended — made of starlight-infused truthglass. It pulsed with celestial runes.

“Step inside,” said the Sun Mask. “Let the heavens decide if your flame is worthy.”

Ruyan looked at Jiang Chen.

He nodded.

They want to see the Void. Let them.

Together, they stepped inside.

The orb closed.

And the past — all seven lives — began to play.

Within the divine sphere, Jiang Chen and Ruyan stood suspended in a sea of memory-light. Fragments of time flickered around them, each representing a life Jiang Chen had lived — and each one was now visible to the entire Conclave.

The First Life:
Jiang Chen as a crowned sovereign, seated upon a throne of lotus and stardust, wielding the original Void Flame that once scorched a divine city — not to conquer, but to save it from corruption.

The Second Life:
A wandering bard who sang through war-torn lands, resurrecting dying cultivators with spiritual harmony. In this life, he first met Ruyan, though under another name and fate.

The Third Life:
A demonic general who betrayed the gods to protect mortals — executed by divine command after a celestial lover turned against him.

And so it continued, each life etched into the memory of the heavens…

Until the Sixth Life flickered.

The image blurred.

Even the divine orb shuddered.

“What is this?” one of the Conclave members snapped.

A silent moment passed.

Then a voice echoed from the orb itself.

This life was removed… by decree.

The room froze.

Only the Divine Tribunal could erase a soul-cycle.

Ruyan turned to Jiang Chen — and saw his eyes narrow.

So one of my incarnations was destroyed… not ended. Hidden.

He reached out.

And the orb responded.

From the broken light emerged a single scene — a celestial battlefield where Jiang Chen knelt, cradling a child wrapped in silver cloth. Around him, bodies of gods burned in silence.

Above, a golden seal descended — not to judge… but to erase.

“He tried to save a child born of both flame and void,” Ruyan whispered. “And the gods struck it from the cycle.”

A gasp rippled through the Conclave. One of the Nine Stars stood in protest.

“This is blasphemy. That life never happened.”

Another said coldly, “Then explain why the Void Flame Throne still trembles?”

Silence fell again.

Suddenly, light swirled within the orb.

Jiang Chen and Ruyan’s auras flared in unison — spiraling around each other.

The lotus within Jiang Chen pulsed.

From Ruyan’s chest, a hidden glyph emerged — shaped like a crescent moon bound in fire.

“Their bond is older than their bodies,” one elder whispered. “This is no mortal affection…”

“It’s a cycle link,” said another. “One that may outlast reincarnation itself.”

The orb dimmed. Jiang Chen and Ruyan landed gently upon the marble platform.

All eyes were upon them.

Then the Sun-Masked judge spoke:

“You are not enemies of the heavens…”

A pause.

“…but you are not subjects either.”

“So we offer this: a place within the Stellar Path Sect, to watch and walk among us. Or… you may leave. But know this — eyes will follow. And fate may not be kind.”

The air inside the Conclave Hall was taut with power.

The Nine Stars had spoken. A rare invitation had been extended — join them as watchers within the Stellar Path Sect, a divine-tier faction tasked with monitoring anomalies across the realms.

Jiang Chen turned to Ruyan.

“It’s a leash with jewels,” she said quietly. “But still a leash.”

He nodded. “And we don’t kneel.”

Together, they faced the Nine.

“We walk our own path,” Jiang Chen said. “We thank the Conclave… but decline.”

Gasps followed. One of the Conclave’s younger elders stood in rage.

“You defy the divine invitation?”

Jiang Chen’s voice was quiet. “I refuse to be caged by the same sky I’ve broken in six lifetimes.”

As they turned to leave, a ripple of spiritual silence passed across the room.

Even Ruyan paused. Jiang Chen's eyes narrowed.

“It’s here,” he whispered.

From the shadow of one of the nine thrones, a figure emerged — robed in smoke, faceless, moving without sound.

An Erasure Envoy — an agent of the Divine Tribunal, meant to remove timeline aberrations before they reach godhood.

It held no sword.

Only a black seal.

And it stepped directly into Jiang Chen’s path.

“You were not meant to pass the seventh cycle,” the envoy said. “You are a paradox. You must be undone.”

Before the envoy could lift the seal, the Void Lotus within Jiang Chen flared — not with rage… but with unity.

Ruyan’s aura wrapped around him in tandem, their soul-bond responding like a blade unsheathed.

The seventh petal burned.

Jiang Chen raised his palm, fingers open.

“Then come.”

The moment the envoy moved, he countered — not with a sword, but with [Memory Severance].

The envoy stopped mid-step.

Its soul… no longer remembered why it was there.

It faded.

And the room was silent.

The Conclave said nothing.

No more threats.

No more invitations.

Only silent awe — and growing fear.

As Jiang Chen and Ruyan left the Hall, the Sun-Masked figure whispered behind them:

“Let the stars watch closely…
For if the Void blossoms fully…
The heavens will not survive the bloom.”