Starting as the heir of a marquis's mansion, I gained access to a summoning system.

Dongfang Weiwo lay on the ground, his blood staining the grayish-white bone powder a dark red. His left arm hung limply, a gruesome gash in his shoulder bone revealing a faint outline of his skeleton. The Soul-Locking Bone had completely merged into his fontanelle, the bone gate tightly shut without a single crack. The giant hand lay severed outside the gate, its five broken bone fingers scattered across the ground like a collapsing tower.

Lin Xiaoman crawled to his side. She was also badly injured; her left palm was almost unrecognizable, and blood stained half of her body. But she seemed oblivious, kneeling there, pressing her forehead against his, calling his name again and again.

"Only I exist in the East. Only I exist in the East."

He did not respond.

Lu Moshen slowly raised his hand on the bone bed. The arm bone lamp had gone out, leaving only a wisp of extremely thin smoke rising from the wick and drifting straight towards the dome of Guixu.

"He's not dead," said Lu Moshen, "but he's not far from it. The Soul-Locking Bone is detached from his body, his left arm is half-crippled, and his Heart Blood Fire is almost completely burned out. In addition, the Bone King's palm strike caused at least seven fractures in his back, and his internal organs shifted. He's alive because that skeleton is still holding him up. Whether it can hold up or not depends on him."

Lin Xiaoman looked up, tears streaming down her face, leaving two white streaks: "How can we save him?"

Lu Moshen remained silent. His withered body was slowly fading, like a handful of ashes left out for too long, being blown away little by little by the wind.

"The thing that saved him was already within him," said Lu Moshen. "It's just that he didn't know what it was. Neither do you. In this world, only one person knows. But he's already dead."

"Who?"

"Me," said Lu Moshen.

He suddenly raised his right hand and pointed to Dongfang Weiwo's brow. The moment that translucent finger touched his skin, a very faint "hum" rang out in the Void.

Dongfang Weiwo's body trembled violently.

Deep within his consciousness, a long-dormant light suddenly shone. The light was extremely cold, like countless stardust ignited in an instant. A voice echoed in his mind. The voice was both strange and familiar, as if it had been there since his birth, only never spoken.

"Host vital signs are below critical levels. Emergency procedures activated. System reawakening."

Dongfang Weiwo suddenly opened his eyes.

It was an endless expanse of darkness. He stood in the center of this darkness, with nothing beneath his feet, yet surrounded by a cacophony of sounds. The sounds of bones rumbling, wind howling, swords clashing, blades whistling, and countless human voices drifted from afar, converging into a vast river. He saw his own skeleton floating before him. The dark golden skeleton was tattered and broken; his left arm, now devoid of the Soul-Locking Bone, was completely dull, and the fractures in his back were clearly visible. But every bone in the skeleton was etched with incredibly fine and dense patterns. He had never seen such patterns before, yet now they seemed to move across the bone surfaces like living things, emitting a faint glow.

"What are you?" Dongfang Weiwo asked.

"System," the voice said, "the thing you've been calling 'System' for twenty-two years."

"I'm asking you where you're from."

In the darkness, the skeleton slowly turned to face him. Inside the skeleton's skull cavity, there was a very faint grayish-white light. The light swirled slowly like a vortex.

"From me," a voice emanated from the light, "from your bones. From the marrow of the last guardian of the ancient god-demon race."

The only one in the East trembled.

"Are you an ancient god or demon?"

"No," the voice said, "I am the last spark of civilization of the ancient God-Demon race. Before their death, the God-Demon race refined all their memories, martial arts, bloodlines, bone techniques, and interdimensional coordinates into a 'seed,' which they buried within the bones of a young God-Demon. This young bone wandered for countless years, eventually ending up on the Tianxuan Continent, in the ancestral grave of an Eastern family. When you were born, it chose you. It does only one thing—every time you are on the verge of death or break through, it opens a door, summoning powerful beings from all the heavens and myriad realms to help you. It doesn't help you without reason. It is finding a new gatekeeper for this prison."

"Why are you only saying this now?"

"Because you have just completed the first trial," the voice said. "Sealing the fontanelle with the Soul-Locking Bone. This was a threshold set by the ancient gods and demons for those who guarded the prison. You succeeded, so the system is fully awakened. From now on, I no longer need to remain dormant. You can also summon even stronger beings."

"Yan Fei, Chuan Ying, and Wu Wudi were all summoned by you."

"Yes. They are not random. There are countless worlds in the cross-dimensional coordinates stored by the system. But only those who are destined for you or this prison will respond to the summons. With each realm you grow, the system can open a door to a more distant place. With each trial you complete, the system's summoning limit will increase. Now, you have completed the first trial. The limit has increased from Diamond level to 'God-Demon level'. At the same time, the energy points accumulated by the system are enough for ten God-Demon level summons."

Dongfang Weiwo stared at the grayish-white light, his heart churning.

"Ten times," he said. "What kind of people could I possibly summon ten times?"

"Top-tier experts," the system said. "Each one is no weaker than Wu Wudi at his peak, and some are far superior. But the price is also high. For each god-level summon, you have to pay a drop of your Heart's Blood Flame. You have very little Heart's Blood Flame left. If you use up all ten drops at once, you will fall back below the Life and Death Realm, and may even die on the spot."

"What if we don't summon it?"

"The world outside the Ruins has changed. You sealed the Bone King back into the fontanelle, but the fontanelle cracked once, and the prison walls have weakened. A very small portion of the Bone King's bone dust, which was sealed inside, seeped outside the Ruins. That is the Bone King's 'Dust Bones.' It will seek out bones and regenerate on its own. Before long, it will condense into a new body in the Heavenly Martial Land or the Land of Ten Thousand Stars. In addition, the Lord of the Undying Palace is still alive. He has remnants of the ancient gods and demons' consciousness within him, which will be attracted by the Dust Bones. The leader of the Bone Collectors has also already gone towards the Ruins. They will all become the Bone King's henchmen in his return."

Dongfang Weiwo remained silent.

"So, you want me to summon ten people to clear these away for me."

"It's not just a substitute," the system said. "They came because you could summon them. You summoned them because you were willing to pay the price. Only together can you seal the Bone King back in. This is your destiny with them, and also the debt they owe you to this prison."

Dongfang Weiwo suddenly understood. Yan Fei, Chuan Ying, and Wu Wudi were willing to risk their lives for him not only because of their loyalty to the system. They all had some hidden connection with this prison and with the Bone King. The system was simply bringing the right people to his side.

"Very well," he said. "I will summon them."

The light from the system slowly rotated, growing brighter and brighter until it seemed to fill the entire darkness.

"Who is the first one?" Dongfang Weiwo asked.

"You don't get to choose," the system said, "but you do get to decide your fate. You only have ten drops of Heart Blood Fire left. Every drop you use reduces the remaining amount. If you are still alive after ten people, I will fall silent again. If you die, these ten people will also disperse to the heavens. So, think it over carefully."

Dongfang Weiwo looked at the floating, broken skeleton, then at Lin Xiaoman's tearful face in the distant darkness. Her voice still echoed in his ears, like a sound from another world.

"I will not die," he said.

"start."

As soon as the words were spoken, darkness exploded.

The first drop of heart-blood fire flew from his left chest, piercing through the darkness, through the Void, and through the two realms. A pillar of light descended from the sky, landing before Dongfang Weiwo. From within the pillar of light, a man in a green robe slowly stepped out. The man had a lean face and exquisite features, and there was not a trace of murderous aura about him, only a loneliness that penetrated to the bone. A sword hung at his waist, unsheathed, but the entire Void fell silent the moment he took his first step.

"Dugu Qiubai," the system said. "The Swordless Realm. He has sought a single defeat his entire life but could not find one. Now he has been summoned to test his sword against you, young master."

The second drop of heart's blood fire.

The beam of light fell again. A withered old monk emerged barefoot. He looked extremely old, as old as a piece of dead wood, each step seeming as if he were about to fall apart. Yet, the ground beneath his feet, the grayish-white bone dust, slowly sprouted a faint green hue, like spring returning to life from the dead. He faced east, clasped his hands in prayer, and chanted a Buddhist mantra: "Amitabha. This old monk sweeps the floor, greetings to the benefactor."

"The Sweeping Monk," the system said, "is in the Formless Realm. His martial arts have reached their origin, but he has not yet entered any realm."

The third drop.

A Taoist priest emerged from the pillar of light, dressed in tattered straw sandals and a unkempt appearance, yet possessing an ethereal and otherworldly air. His face was like jade, his eyes like bright stars, and in his hand he held a whisk; where the whisk fell, nothing seemed to stir. Behind him, nine faint sword energies swirled endlessly, like nine tiny stars.

"Zhang Sanfeng," the system said, "the Taiji Realm. Overcoming strength with softness, untouched by any technique."

The fourth drop.

This time, the beam of light was extremely thin, as thin as a cicada's wing. A young monk walked out slowly, carrying a bamboo staff, his steps unsteady and seemingly nonexistent. He had a look of bewilderment on his face, but with each step he took, the ground of the Ruins seemed to be paved anew, bone dust like snow swirling around him.

"Shi Potian," the system said, "is a realm without good or evil. He destroys all laws, yet remains unaware of it."

The fifth drop.

A middle-aged man strode forward, his physique imposing, his brows etched with the marks of hardship and fierce determination of life. He carried no weapon, only a broken iron spear, its tip still damp with blood. He glanced at Dongfang Weiwo, then suddenly burst into laughter: "Young brother, your physique is worse than mine back at Yanmen Pass. But your life is tougher than anyone else's."

"Xiao Feng," the system said, "God of War Realm. The Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms, the most powerful and fierce."

The sixth drop.

There was no figure within the pillar of light, only an extremely thin and long sword beam. The sword beam landed, transforming into a withered old man, standing with his hands behind his back, his beard and eyebrows as white as snow. His sword was not on his body, but in the world. As the onlookers watched, they felt their own shadows uncontrollably swaying towards the direction of the sword's intent.

"Huang Shang," the system said, "is at the Daoist Canon Realm. He possesses the Nine Yin Manual, which contains the general principles of all martial arts in the world."

The seventh drop.

The newcomer was an extremely beautiful woman. She was dressed in white, her aura as cold as frost, her radiance so dazzling that no one dared to look directly at her. She made no move, she simply stood there, and the millions of broken bones in the Ruins of Return seemed to be swept away by a raging wind, all collapsing and daring not to make a sound.

"Little Dragon Girl," the system said, "Jade Maiden Realm. A pure heart suppresses demons, impervious to all evil."

The eighth drop.

A young gentleman emerged from the pillar of light, dressed in snow-white robes, with a face as handsome as jade, gently waving a folding fan in his hand. He smiled, seemingly elegant and harmless, yet everyone felt an extremely sharp sword intent emanating from the fan's ribs, scraping straight to the bone.

"Hua Manlou?" The system paused. "No. He is Ye Gucheng. A celestial being descending from the heavens, his sword capable of destroying a city."

The ninth drop.

This time, the beam of light split into seven, landing in seven different locations. From each beam emerged an identical figure. The seven spoke in unison: "Young Master Dongfang, I am Cang Qu. These seven forms are all my own."

"Cang Qu," the system said, "is a Seven Absolute Avatar. Neither human nor demon, existing in between, capable of trapping a Supreme Being."

The tenth drop.

As the last drop of his heart's blood shot out, Dongfang Weiwo was already swaying precariously. He felt his heart almost stop, and his consciousness seemed to sink into icy water. But he did not fall.

The tenth beam of light did not land in front of him.

It landed in the distant, greyish-white mist. The light was extremely dim, yet it illuminated the entire Ruins of Return with a chilling aura. From the light, a figure in black robes slowly emerged. He was tall and slender, with a cold and stern face. He carried no weapon, only his hands clasped behind his back. Every step he took seemed to tread upon the very bones of the world. He walked up to Dongfang Weiwo, bowed slightly, and performed a salute.

"Young Master," he spoke, his voice deep and resonant, "Pang Ban."

The system said, "The Demon Master Realm. The pinnacle of the demonic path, capable of reaching the divine in a single thought, and destroying the world in another. Among the ten, he is the most outstanding."

Ten people stood in the Void, protecting Dongfang Weiwo in the center. Their auras were different, yet all were so strong that this gray world trembled slightly. Yan Fei, Chuan Ying, and Wu Wudi only opened their eyes from their meditation at this moment, and their eyes were all shocked when they saw this scene.

Wu Wudi grinned, coughing up blood, and said, "Good heavens... I'm probably the worst of the ten."

Lu Moshen's body had faded to mere outline. He glanced at the ten people one last time, then suddenly spoke, his voice as fleeting as the wind:

"A divine or demonic summon requires the lifeblood of the prison guard as a catalyst. These ten are not puppets of the system. They are souls released from this prison countless eons ago by ancient gods and demons. There are Buddhas, Taoists, demons, swordsmen, and martial artists. They have come to repay their debts."

After saying that, his body vanished like smoke, leaving only a piece of dark golden finger bone, which landed with a "thud" on the bone bed.

Lin Xiaoman held Dongfang Weiwo in his arms. His consciousness was fading; he could only barely make out the shadows of ten people. Then, he heard the system's voice ring out in his mind one last time:

"Congratulations, host, on completing the summoning of a god-demon. Ten have arrived, and the Three Realms are about to collapse."

"Please, host—survive."

Dongfang Weiwo's vision went black, and he completely lost consciousness.