Chapter 102
Hei Mao's breath hitched as time seemed to rewind within his mind, forcing him to relive the last few seconds with dreadful clarity.
The battle began within the Umbral Scripture Hall.
Hei Mao could barely process the chaos as he and the others fought with everything they had. Scrolls burned, shelves toppled, ink spilled onto the stone floor—yet none of it mattered.
Their struggle carried them outside.
The Puppet Armor was relentless. An unfeeling executioner, cutting through their efforts as if their resistance was meaningless.
Ren Xun had managed to slow it down with a series of formation traps and a trace of internal formation he left behind. For a moment—just a fleeting, fragile moment—hope flickered.
Then the Puppet Armor caught up.
Hei Mao saw it happen.
Brother Ren Xun, kneeling in the dirt, desperately working to repair the island's killing array.
His hands blurred, forming seals—each motion filled with the same fury and determination that he often tried to hide.
But he never finished.
Even Ren Xun had his limits.
The Puppet Armor made quick work of him.
A clean, efficient beheading.
The world spun. Blood splattered across the stones, staining the formation scripts he had worked so hard to repair.
Hei Mao felt his breath catch, unable to draw more arrows.
His body froze.
Ren Xun was gone.
And then—
Big Sister Gu Jie was the second to fall.
She fought with everything she had. Every technique, every trick, every ounce of her desperation.
But it wasn't enough.
She, too, was beheaded.
Hei Mao barely registered his own screams.
It was too fast. Too sudden.
And then—
The Puppet Armor turned to him.
It didn't hesitate.
A strange power emanated from it—something that made Hei Mao's very soul tremble. It reached for him, as if intending to consume him whole.
Hei Mao was going to die.
And then—
Ren Jingyi lost it.
The memory stopped there.
Hei Mao's eyes snapped open.
He gasped, body jerking as reality crashed back into him.
A girl was staring down at him, her face twisted in anguish.
Tears streaked down her cheeks, her lips trembling.
"Mao!"
Her voice broke.
His breath caught.
It was Ren Jingyi.
But not the little goldfish he had always known.
Her body was that of a human girl, her appearance no longer resembling a fish but someone around his age. They were hidden inside a small shed. The air was thick with the stench of blood and decay.
Hei Mao's mind raced. What happened?
He tried to push himself up, but Ren Jingyi suddenly clung to him.
Her body shook violently.
She sobbed.
"I did what Big Sister told me to do…" she whispered, voice raw. "I forced myself to break through. I… I became human. But when I finished—"
Her words choked off.
Her fingers clawed into his robes.
"It was already too late."
Hei Mao's breath hitched.
He understood what she meant.
Ren Jingyi had reached the Fifth Realm—Soul Recognition.
She had achieved her Human Transformation.
And yet, despite that power—despite the impossible feat of breaking through in the heat of battle—
She had still lost everything.
Hei Mao swallowed, his throat dry.
He raised a trembling hand and rested it on her head.
She flinched—then stilled.
He didn't know what to say.
But he knew one thing.
It was his responsibility to calm her down.
The shed was barely holding together, its wooden walls warped and cracked, the scent of rot heavy in the air. Hei Mao's breath came in quiet, controlled exhales as he held onto Ren Jingyi's trembling hand. The girl had stopped crying, but her red, puffy eyes and the occasional sniffle gave away the turmoil within.
Outside, the low groans of undead echoed through the night. Their heavy, shuffling footsteps scraped against the ground as they dragged their half-decayed bodies across the ruined battlefield. The once-proud stronghold of the Shadow Clan was now a graveyard—one that reeked of death, miasma, and lingering resentment.
Hei Mao knew he had to keep Ren Jingyi calm.
'What better way than to make her focus on something else?' he thought.
With a hushed voice, he whispered, "Where's my bow?"
Ren Jingyi blinked, wiping the back of her sleeve across her nose before standing up slightly. From within her robe was an oversized garment that nearly swallowed her small frame. Ren Jingyi carefully pulled out the Eye of the Sun. The fabric draped over her slender shoulders, the sleeves far too long for her arms, forcing her to push them back as she moved. It was black, embroidered with intricate red serpents that coiled and slithered along the silk, their gleaming scales almost alive under the dim light.
It was unmistakably Gu Jie's—or at least, one of her robes. A robe that once belonged to someone strong, confident, and unshakable. But now, wrapped around Ren Jingyi's tiny body, it looked more like a child trying to fit into an adult's world—too big, too heavy, a lingering reminder of someone who was no longer there to wear it.
Hei Mao swallowed hard, his fingers briefly tightening into fists. He didn't have the luxury of grief right now. Not when death prowled just outside the door.
"Thanks," said Hei Mao as he secured the bow in his hand.
The Eye of the Sum's polished surface gleamed faintly in the dim light. It was the magical bow lent to him by Senior Dai Fu. The sight of it made Hei Mao feel something—perhaps hope, perhaps desperation, but at least he knew he wasn't entirely defenseless.
Ren Jingyi sniffled, holding out the bow. "What now?" she whispered, her voice still thick with emotion.
Hei Mao didn't answer right away. Instead, he pulled her back into the haystack piled against the shed's wall. The dried stalks rustled softly around them as they crouched low.
"Quiet," he whispered, voice barely audible.
Ren Jingyi's lip quivered, but she obeyed.
The sounds outside grew louder. The groaning of undead was joined by something worse—soft, deliberate footsteps. Not the dragging steps of corpses, but those of people who still had reason, intelligence, and purpose. Hei Mao tensed as the wooden door creaked. A shudder ran through the shed as something heavy pressed against it.
And then—BANG.
The door was forced open.
Dust scattered in the air as two figures entered. They were clad in dark robes, faces obscured by black masks inscribed with red scripture. Unlike the mindless undead, their presence exuded a cold, calculating menace.
Behind them, several rotting corpses lurched into the shed, their glowing eyes scanning the dim interior. Hei Mao pressed himself further into the hay, feeling Ren Jingyi's tiny fingers clutching at his sleeve.
He knew they had to act fast.
With careful movements, he reached into his robe, fingers brushing against a precious gift from Big Sister Gu Jie—the Magic Scroll of Invisibility.
Slowly, he unfurled it. The parchment was fragile, the edges slightly frayed from repeated handling, but the golden characters inscribed upon it still pulsed with hidden power. He turned to Ren Jingyi and, in a whisper barely louder than a breath, said:
"Touch the edge of the parchment."
Ren Jingyi hesitated for only a second before doing as he instructed.
Hei Mao then tore the paper in half.
A surge of energy washed over them, the spell activating instantly. Their bodies shimmered, outlines fading like mist under the morning sun. Within moments, they were gone.
But the masked cultivators weren't fooled so easily.
One of them stepped further inside, his boots grinding against the wooden floor. His voice was hoarse, but filled with eerie amusement.
"Smell that?" he asked his companion.
The second cultivator nodded. "Two living rats. Close by."
Hei Mao held his breath.
The undead shuffled in, their soulless eyes scanning the room, sniffing at the air with unnatural hunger. Hei Mao gripped the Eye of the Sun tightly, his heartbeat hammering in his chest.
They had to get out.
But could they?
The tension in the shed was suffocating. Hei Mao held his breath, his body rigid as stone, his small hands clutching at Ren Jingyi's sleeve as if afraid she would vanish if he let go. The cultivators in black masks stalked through the small space, their eyes scanning for any trace of life.
Then, suddenly—a rat squeaked.
One of the black-masked cultivators cursed under his breath. "Filthy vermin," he muttered before flicking his fingers. A small pulse of dark energy shot forward, and the rat screeched once before falling still, its body twitching before it lay lifeless.
The other cultivator, however, wasn't so easily distracted. He narrowed his eyes and muttered, "I swear someone was here."
The two argued in hushed voices, the first one insisting it was nothing but pests, while the second refused to believe it.
Hei Mao didn't move. Didn't breathe.
Ren Jingyi trembled beside him, her fingers clenching the oversized robe.
After what felt like an eternity, the second cultivator finally let out a frustrated huff. "Fine. If you're so sure, report it to the commander. I'm not wasting my time chasing ghosts."
With that, they turned and left.
Hei Mao waited. One second. Two.
Then, he let go of Ren Jingyi. The magic crumbled, its effect dissipating as their invisibility faded.
Ren Jingyi sniffled, wiping her tears away with her oversized sleeve. "That was too close," she whispered.
Hei Mao took a deep breath. "We don't have time to be scared. I have a plan. We're getting Big Sister Gu Jie's and Brother Ren Xun's bodies back."
Ren Jingyi's eyes widened. Then, slowly, they began to glow with excitement. "If we bring them back, His Eminence can resurrect them!"
But just as quickly, the light in her eyes dimmed, replaced with uncertainty. Her small fingers clutched at the robe. "But… does His Eminence still care about us? Did he abandon us?"
Hei Mao shook his head without hesitation. "Senior Dai Fu is still out there fighting. Big Bro Da Wei would never leave us." His voice wavered only slightly, but he forced himself to believe it. He had to.
Ren Jingyi's lips quivered before she nodded, the fire in her eyes reigniting. "I kind of miss Lu Gao too."
Hei Mao smiled faintly. "Me too. But first, we need to stop Shenyuan."
Ren Jingyi blinked. "Who?"
Hei Mao's expression darkened. "The guy controlling the Puppet Armor."
Ren Jingyi frowned. "Wait, how do you know his name?"
Hei Mao hesitated, his mind still a mess of jumbled memories. But as he dug through the haze, the fragments pieced together, forming a picture he didn't want to see.
His breath hitched. His hands clenched.
The night his family was slaughtered. The masked figures. The whispers. The shadow that loomed over him, consuming everything.
And then—the face of the man who stole his body.
Hei Mao shuddered.
His voice was hoarse as he answered. "…Because it was him. He was the one. The one who killed my family. The one who took my body."
"Shenyuan."
Hei Mao took a deep breath and steadied himself. The weight of what he had just remembered threatened to crush him, but he couldn't afford to break down. Not now. Not when they still had a chance to set things right.
He turned to Ren Jingyi. In the dim light, her small face was still streaked with tears, but there was a fierce determination in her golden eyes.
"This is reckless," he murmured, "but we don't have a choice. If we're doing this, you have to understand the risk. We could die."
Ren Jingyi lifted her chin, her expression hardening. "I don't care. I'll do everything I can."
Hei Mao searched her face for doubt, for hesitation. He found none.
"…Alright."
Together, they moved through the ruined landscape of the island, keeping low, keeping silent. The scent of death and rot hung heavy in the air, thick enough that Hei Mao had to breathe through his mouth. Undead roamed in the distance, hunting for any remaining survivors.
They didn't have much time.
They found the bodies easily enough. Gu Jie and Ren Xun. Motionless, lifeless, and missing their heads.
Hei Mao clenched his jaw. This wasn't enough. If they wanted even the slimmest chance of resurrecting them with Da Wei's power, they needed their heads.
Closing his eyes, Hei Mao traced the lingering energy in the air. A dark, curling presence clung to the battlefield, a shadowy trail leading away from the bodies. Shenyuan's energy.
Something shifted in his vision.
A sharp gasp came from Ren Jingyi. "Hei Mao! Your eyes… they're completely black!"
Hei Mao blinked. The world was sharper, the darkness richer, layered with depth and movement.
Is this… like Elder Yuan's Abyss Sight?
He didn't understand it. But he would use it.
"I can see where he took them." He turned to Ren Jingyi, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Listen to me. I'll distract Shenyuan. When I do, you get the heads and get out. No matter what."
Ren Jingyi's hands clenched at her sides. "But—"
"No matter what." Hei Mao's voice was firm.
Ren Jingyi hesitated, then slowly nodded.
They moved.
Guided by the trail of shadowy energy, they crept forward. The ruined remains of the Shadow Clan's stronghold loomed around them, a broken skeleton of what had once been a sanctuary.
Then—they saw him.
Shenyuan sat on a throne of bones.
The structure was hastily assembled from the remains of dead Shadow Clan cultivators. It was crude, but powerful, radiating a miasma of death and resentment.
But that wasn't the worst part.
At the foot of the throne—forced onto his knees—
—was Dai Fu.
Hei Mao couldn't hear their conversation, but he didn't need to. The sight of Dai Fu, kneeling before Shenyuan, was enough.
They needed to save him, too.
Ren Jingyi, still breathing heavily from their previous escape, gave a firm nod. "We'll have better chances if we do."
Hei Mao took a slow breath. "Then listen to me. When you get them, don't look back. Run. Stick close to Senior Dai Fu."
Ren Jingyi's golden eyes flickered with hesitation. "…What about you?"
Hei Mao forced a confident smirk. "I'll be right behind you."
He reached for the Eye of the Sun and held it out to her.
Ren Jingyi's hands clenched. "But—this was lent to you! And I'm already carrying Big Sister Gu Jie's Accursed Serpent—"
"It's fine," Hei Mao insisted. "Just take it."
She still looked reluctant.
To reassure her, Hei Mao took off his Storage Ring and handed it over as well. "Here. Keep this too. Everything inside will be more useful to you than me."
Ren Jingyi stared at him. Something in her small face twisted, but before she could argue, Hei Mao cut her off.
"When I say go—"
She was still mid-word saying 'okay'—
"GO!"
Hei Mao bolted.
It happened in an instant.
Shenyuan gestured, and from the sack beside him, the severed heads floated.
Ren Jingyi's breath hitched.
Dai Fu—laughing, mocking Shenyuan—only served as more of a distraction.
Ren Jingyi moved.
The Accursed Serpent whip lashed out, coiling around the fallen heads in a series of hoops. With a sharp flick, she reeled them in, stuffing them into her Storage Ring.
That was when Shenyuan moved.
In a single flicker, he was at Ren Jingyi's flank.
But—Hei Mao saw it.
And so did Dai Fu.
For Dai Fu, it was because he was using Da Wei's body, empowered by powerful passive skills, gear, and stats.
For Hei Mao, it was because of his connection to Shenyuan.
Dai Fu moved first.
Zealot's Stride. Flash Step.
In a single breath, he scooped Ren Jingyi by the waist, his blade flashing as he cut down two interfering cultivators. Then—he ran.
Hei Mao moved next.
He lunged at Shenyuan from behind, his small frame barely making a sound. His hand shot forward—
—and he dug his arm into him.
Ren Jingyi screamed. "HEI MAO!"
She struggled in Dai Fu's grip, reaching toward him. "It's time! Let's go—come with us!"
Hei Mao looked back at her.
A small, sad smile touched his lips.
"…I'm sorry."
"MAAAAO~!" cried Ren Jingyi.
"I will distract him!" Hei Mao shouted, his voice barely audible over the chaos.
His qi flared, small yet unwavering, as he glared at Shenyuan.
"Give me my body back!"
Hei Mao thrust his hands forward, grasping at Shenyuan's robes—and they sank in.
No—not just the robes. His hands sank into Shenyuan's body itself.
Shenyuan rolled his eyes and scoffed. "You should have run, boy."
A vice-like grip clamped around Hei Mao's skull.
Pain exploded through him.
Hei Mao gritted his teeth. He refused to let go.
A vague impression flickered in his mind—a technique he had glimpsed in the depths of his dreams, something half-formed yet instinctively understood.
"Shadow Bind!"
Dark tendrils burst from Hei Mao's arms, latching onto Shenyuan.
For the first time, Shenyuan paused.
But before he could react, a voice cut through the air.
"Let go of him, and I'll give you what you want."
Hei Mao's eyes widened. Dai Fu?!
Dai Fu was addressing Shenyuan.
"Run!" Hei Mao yelled. "I can't hold him for long!"
But Dai Fu—Dave—refused to see it his way.
Instead, Dai Fu pulled out a Magic Scroll of Greater Teleportation.
Hei Mao barely had time to register it before Dai Fu grabbed Ren Jingyi's wrist and forced her to rip the parchment.
The magic activated instantly.
Ren Jingyi vanished, tears in her eyes.
Dai Fu moved again.
Another Magic Scroll.
This time, he shoved it into Ren Xun's limp hand, pulling it from Shenyuan.
"GO!" he bellowed.
And then—Shenyuan laughed.
A slow, delighted chuckle.
Finally, he had regained control.
He tilted his head, his fingers tightening on Hei Mao's scalp.
"You want your body back?" His voice was mocking. "You want it so badly?"
Hei Mao's mind reeled.
A whisper of something called to him.
He reached deeper—searching for Shenyuan's essence.
And then—
Darkness.
It swallowed him whole.
Everything happened too fast.
The next second, it was already finished.
Hei Mao stared at Dai Fu's beheaded body. Dai Fu in the end had let his guard down, allowing himself to be beheaded so easily. Of course, Dai Fu would lose., especially since he was already on the brink of death anyway.
The helm rolled across the bloodied ground, coming to a stop with its faceplate now open.
A smile.
That damned smile.
Joyful. Radiant. Almost… satisfied.
Weird.
No.
"Who am I again?"
Not Hei Mao.
Ah, right. Shenyuan—that was his name, wasn't it?
He almost forgot.
The boy's fate was powerful. That much was undeniable. A child of destiny.
It was expected.
After all, Hei Mao was the original owner of this body. This vessel was born for greatness. That must be why despite the chasm of there cultivation, the kid almost succeeded.
Shenyuan had inhabited many bodies in his long life. Some warriors. Some scholars. Some kings.
But this one… this one had potential.
Hei Yuan's bloodline… Shenyuan licked his lips.
It reminded him of the Heavenly Eye.
Ah, that one—a freak of nature. A true aberration.
Shenyuan laughed.
"Take off the armor."
His lackeys moved at once.
Then—
Something ridiculous happened.
The shadow of the dead foreigner expanded.
First, it swallowed the shore.
Then—the entire island.
No.
The entire lake.
Shenyuan's breath hitched.
His Abyss Sight was reacting strangely.
A power that allowed its wearer to peer beyond the darkness, to learn the secrets of the abyss, to see the shadows of all life.
And then—
The dead man's body jerked.
A flicker of movement.
An ordinary-looking ring, barely noticeable, began to glow.
And in an instant—
The head regenerated.
Brain matter.
Bone.
Flesh.
Dark hair.
Whole again.
A cultivator lurched forward in panic, sword drawn—
Only to be backhanded.
His head flew.
A clean, effortless strike.
That was a Fifth Realm cultivator!
The foreigner stretched.
He cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders, utterly unbothered.
Shenyuan gritted his teeth.
His mind screamed in disbelief.
But then—he forced himself to smile.
"Impressive."
Shenyuan's mocking smile widened as he studied the resurrected man before him.
"To escape the Black Forest, the sacred treasure of my Immortal Ancestors... that alone speaks of your skill."
His voice was rich with amusement, but beneath it, there was a thread of unease.
He had seen many impossible things in his long existence—but this?
This was unnatural.
Shenyuan narrowed his eyes, studying the foreigner's body.
The energy and the very essence within him—it was all… wrong.
No. Not wrong.
Changed.
His lips curled into a smirk.
"I never thought your True Soul would be able to return to your main body."
It was unnerving.
A soul severed from its body should be lost.
Even with techniques that allowed soul projection or possession, a practitioner would still face severe consequences or would have to pay a hefty cost.
And yet—
Here he was.
Whole.
Intact.
No signs of soul damage, no lingering instability—
Just pure, undeniable presence.
Shenyuan's eyes gleamed.
"How's your other disciple? Lu Gao, is it?"
He tilted his head, lips stretching into something between curiosity and cruelty.
"Did you kill him?"
His tone was teasing, but his gaze was sharp.
"To forcibly eject your soul and return to your main body? In order to do that, you would have to kill him, yes? It was certainly a strange technique."
There was no doubt about it.
That must have been what happened.
And yet—
There were gaps in his understanding.
Shenyuan had stolen countless lives, claimed countless bodies.
He understood possession techniques intimately.
They were always rooted in dominion—subjugation of another's spirit.
A battle of will. A conquest.
But this?
This was not how it normally worked.
Shenyuan's fingers tightened over the armrest.
"For a possession technique, it was bizarre how you used the righteous principles."
He scoffed.
The very foundation of possession was parasitic—a forceful occupation, an invasion, a war between the possessor and the possessed.
But this?
This was orderly.
Refined.
It was as though the foreigner had… stepped aside, allowing the other soul to take over without resistance—and then returned, as if called back by divine right.
Shenyuan frowned.
His unease deepened.
That was not how it worked.
"I truly thought I had eliminated one of my strongest rivals."
Shenyuan tilted his head, eyes gleaming.
"Unfortunately—" He gestured grandly at the wreckage. "You are already too late. Your disciples are dead. The Shadow Clan has been decimated."
The foreigner—
No.
The man turned to him.
Slowly.
His gaze was calm.
His voice was soft.
"Who are you?"
Chapter 103
Dawn painted the desert in hues of gold and crimson.
The first thing I noticed was the silence.
No whispers of the Black Forest. No rustling leaves. No gnawing abominations lurking in the dark. Only the endless dunes of sand stretching in every direction.
The skull strapped to Alice's waist stirred, its voice dry and amused.
"This is no longer the Black Forest."
I turned, surveying the land. It was right.
Where once there had been a world of twisted trees and horrors, now only an arid wasteland remained.
Joan let out a long breath, standing at the center of a fading golden glow. The last remnants of her Divine Descent flickered and dissolved, her halo vanishing as she let go of the power she had invoked.
She winced, touching her chest, then muttered a soft prayer. A warm pulse of magic surged outward, knitting her wounds back together.
Alice took a slow breath and stretched. Then she frowned.
Her crimson eyes flickered, and she touched her collarbone. "I can feel it again," she murmured.
I raised an eyebrow.
She clenched her fist. "The Blood Pact."
I froze.
That could only mean one thing.
"…And?" I asked. "We are back on the material plane… So?
Alice's frown deepened, her gaze distant as if she were sensing something far away. Then, her expression twisted in alarm.
"Your main body is in danger."
My heart dropped.
That was bad.
I immediately tried activating Egress.
The skill flared to life—only for a spike of pain to lance through me.
My entire body convulsed. My stomach wrenched violently as blood surged up my throat, and I collapsed to my knees, vomiting onto the sand.
"David!" Joan was beside me in an instant, her hands glowing as she pressed them against my back, purging the backlash with a surge of healing.
I coughed, wiping my mouth. That was not normal.
I'd never failed Egress that violently before.
I clenched my jaw. "I strained Lu Gao too much," I muttered, realization sinking in. "I think… I can't use any more skills in this body."
I reached inward, calling for Lu Gao.
Nothing.
That was… odd.
I focused harder, searching for the connection between our souls.
And there—faint, but still there.
He was alive.
But exhausted.
I exhaled. "He's fine," I reassured the others. "Just tired."
Joan and Alice exchanged glances.
Then, I closed my eyes. "I'll be removing Divine Possession. Take care of Lu Gao for me—"
Before I could finish, Alice grabbed my wrist.
I blinked at her.
Her grip was tight, her skin clammy.
She was nervous.
That wasn't like her.
"…What?" I asked.
Alice licked her lips. "David," she said slowly. "I'm getting intermittent visions."
My brows furrowed. "Visions?"
She nodded. "From the blood left in your main body." Her voice dropped. "And whatever is on the other side…"
She swallowed.
"…It's on par with a God."
Silence.
Joan stiffened.
I narrowed my eyes. "And?"
Alice stared at me. "And I'm telling you not to go."
I scoffed, shaking her hand off. "You already know the answer to that."
"David—"
"There are people relying on me. I have to go."
Alice's lips pressed into a thin line.
Then, she exhaled, letting me go.
"…Then at least don't risk your immortal soul."
I looked at her.
Alice's expression was grim. "Dying isn't a big deal." Her voice was quiet. "Not really. After all… true death only comes when your soul is extinguished."
Joan shifted uncomfortably. "That's… an awfully bleak perspective."
Alice didn't reply.
I closed my eyes.
Dying wasn't an option. Not for me. Not yet.
"…I have to go," I repeated.
Alice sighed. "Then listen to me first." She met my gaze. "Your Holy Spirit lost."
I stilled.
Alice nodded. "Your body used Final Adjudication." Her voice was even, but serious. "And lost. I saw it. Glimpses of memory, despair, and grief…"
The words hung in the air like a noose.
Joan turned to me with a hesitant look in her eyes. "David…" she started. Then, more softly:
"…Are you still the same Paladin I knew back in Losten?"
I didn't answer.
I closed my eyes, dispelling Divine Possession.
The desert wind howled around us.
I let my consciousness drift.
Wait for me, Dave. Everyone.
I'm coming back.
Dave's existence flickered.
I felt it the moment I arrived—his presence wavering, dimming, slipping away like a candle in the wind.
But before that could happen, I reached out.
"Everything will be fine. I'm here."
A surge of remorse and hope flooded through him.
His soul, battered and exhausted, hesitated for only a moment before it returned to me.
Reunited.
I exhaled slowly, feeling his presence settle back into the depths of my soul.
Then, I opened my eyes.
Night had fallen.
Stars flickered above, their distant light barely piercing the bleak battlefield.
I stretched, rolling my shoulders and cracking my neck.
The moment I moved, I heard hurried footsteps.
A figure emerged from the shadows—a Fifth Realm cultivator, his eyes wild with desperation and madness. His aura flared as he charged at me, teeth bared in some fanatic rage.
I thought of using Hollow Point: Incursion.
…Only to realize I had no demonic energy.
Ah. Right.
That didn't mean I learned nothing from Lu Gao's technique.
Truth be told, I picked up a lot of things.
The crazed cultivator lunged at me.
I sighed. Fine. Let's test it.
I raised my hand—and lightly slapped him.
His head flew off his shoulders.
Then, it exploded.
Blood and viscera painted the ground as the body collapsed, twitching.
I shook my hand off. Messy.
That was Hollow Point. No Incursion, just Hollow Point.
So, what was Hollow Point?
In simple terms, it meant I had nearly a 100% critical chance.
To be more humble—and accurate—it was roughly 99%.
That was why even a light slap from me could kill instantly.
A sharp intake of breath.
I turned.
Another man had appeared.
He was standing at a distance, watching me with narrowed eyes.
He looked… familiar.
For a moment, I wondered if he was Hei Mao.
But then he opened his mouth—and started yapping.
Oh. No.
It was the annoying kind of yapping.
The kind where they go on and on about power, fate, vengeance, destiny, or some other nonsense.
At first, I thought he would stop eventually.
So, I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
But he just wouldn't stop.
I felt my patience fraying.
Deep breath.
I sighed.
Then, finally, I asked,
"Who are you?"
The man flamboyantly introduced himself.
"I am Shenyuan!"
He hovered in the air, arms spread wide like he was delivering a grand performance. His voice carried the irritation of a man forced to explain something beneath him.
I stared at him. Then past him.
My eyes swept across the island.
I imagined rolling for perception.
A familiar scent hit me.
Death.
So many deaths.
I sighed.
Meanwhile, Shenyuan was still talking.
Glory. Prison. The Black Forest. The Greater Universe. Secrets to reach Godhood.
And then—the invitation.
"What do you think of joining me?"
I took a slow, deep breath.
Am I angry?
No.
Far from it.
I was… sad.
This was the man who had schemed and outplayed me?
This was the person responsible for everything that had happened?
The fact that so many people had died under my care spoke of just how weak and misplaced I was.
Of course, the Shadow Clan were not my people.
But that wasn't the point.
The point was, I should have been here.
I wished Alice and Joan were here.
But alas—that wasn't the case.
My grip tightened on Silver Steel.
And slowly, I felt anger rear its ugly head.
I had been forcibly suppressing my emotions, shoring them up using my Intelligence and Wisdom stats—logically reasoning through my pain, detaching from it.
But even that had its limits.
I activated Silver Soul, the skill imbued within my blade.
A wave of calm washed over me.
And just like that—I returned to sadness.
Around me, cultivators and undead tensed.
Shenyuan frowned.
"What… was that just now?"
"That's me. Mourning."
I answered flatly.
I tried Voice Chat.
Hei Mao? …Nothing.
Ren Xun? …Nothing.
Gu Jie? …Nothing.
My fingers clenched around Silver Steel.
I exhaled. "How did you kill my disciples?"
Shenyuan smirked.
"Kill? Oh no, I did much worse."
He gestured to the Puppet Armor standing nearby.
"I can detach pieces of my soul, embedding them into my shadows," he said, voice dripping with pride. "A little trick of mine. You recognize this armor, don't you? Meant as a vessel for your soul-clone, yes? Such a fine design, but…"
His smile widened.
"It lacked a master to truly use it. So I… volunteered."
My heart sank.
"You used it."
"Oh yes. And through it, I destroyed your beloved disciples."
I moved.
Flash Step.
A golden afterimage trailed behind me.
I reached the Puppet Armor and cast Exorcise—holy light flaring as I purged the remnants of his presence.
Then, without hesitation, I stashed it into my Item Box.
Shenyuan scoffed. "How rude."
The ground rumbled.
More cultivators and undead rushed toward me.
I counted ten.
No—fifteen.
They ranged from Third to Fifth Realms.
They thought they were fast.
I cast Holy Aura.
The moment my divine light unfurled, their movements dragged to a crawl.
I took a single step forward.
Silver Steel gleamed.
I swung lightly, aiming for their throats.
One breath.
One stroke.
A thread of silver danced through the air.
Their heads fell.
Their bodies followed.
Shenyuan sighed.
"What a pity," he said. "You truly insist on being my enemy."
His eyes gleamed.
"I could resurrect them, you know."
I froze.
"All your disciples. I could bring them back."
His voice was almost gentle.
"All you need to do…"
He spread his arms.
"Is submit."
"No thanks, I'm fine," I told him.
I crouched down, grabbing my helm from the ground.
Inside—a head.
I tilted it slightly, letting the starlight illuminate the face.
My head.
It was smiling.
Creepy.
For a brief moment, I wondered what Dave had thought before the lights went out.
That aside, he had lost.
And not just barely.
Beheaded. While in my body.
I sighed, stuffing both the helm and the head into my Item Box.
Not that I particularly liked wearing a helmet.
It made me feel claustrophobic.
Sure, I'd trained to get used to them. But in the end, it still wasn't me.
I had worn one for David_69.
But for David the Gamer?
No, thanks.
Maybe some other time.
Shenyuan chuckled.
"You should wear your helm," he suggested.
I glanced at him. "Why?"
"I'd hate for you to lose and whine about not being at full power," he said smoothly.
Childish.
I exhaled. "It would just get in the way."
Then, I lifted my sword and added, "After all, I want a good view of your face when I slaughter you."
I moved.
Zealot's Stride.
Holy energy flooded my veins, burning like a sun in my chest.
I cast Divine Smite.
Silver Steel glowed.
I swung.
Superheated air blasted outward, tearing the ground apart. Divine light cut through the dark, a crescent arc racing straight toward Shenyuan's chest.
And then—
It passed right through.
As if he were intangible.
Shenyuan laughed.
"Inept," he sneered. "A fool."
I narrowed my eyes. Searing Smite.
Nothing.
Shenyuan hovered above, watching, his expression an infuriating mix of amusement and mockery.
I clenched my jaw. I could feel anger boiling under my skin, but I forced it down.
There had to be a way.
I thought of a certain fish.
Ren Jingyi.
I reached out through Voice Chat.
—Connected.
"His Eminence?" came the voice, soft, hesitant.
I exhaled. "Tell me everything that happened."
I swung my sword. Again. Again.
Venting anger.
Testing skills.
As I fought my own uselessness, I listened.
—
"It was dark. It was so, so dark."
"The miasma came first. Thick and choking, creeping through the island like a living thing."
"Then came the dead."
"They weren't just corpses. They were… wrong. Corrupted. Twisted. They whispered things in voices that weren't their own."
"Big Sister Gu Jie—she—"
She paused. A shuddering breath.
"She fought until the end. She tried to protect us, but—"
"The sword came so fast. I didn't even see it. Her head… just… rolled."
A choked sound.
"Stupid Bro Ren Xun suffered the same. He didn't even get to curse before his body fell apart."
"Hei Mao… Hei Mao knew we couldn't win. He knew it."
"He smiled at me before he ran straight into them. He—"
"He tore him apart, devoured him."
Her voice wavered.
"Senior Dai Fu… he tried to save us. Me and Hei Mao. He tried so hard. He threw himself into that sea of death, cutting them down one by one."
"But he failed."
"He failed miserably."
Silence.
I exhaled slowly, gripping my sword tighter.
I stopped swinging.
I stared at Shenyuan as he finally descended, his feet touching the blood-soaked ground of the island.
He smirked. "Tired?"
I ignored him.
"Ren Jingyi."
Her breath hitched through Voice Chat.
"Run away."
"What? No! I—"
I cut the connection.
I had no time for arguments.
I took a deep breath, focusing. Options.
—One spell slot left for an Ultimate Skill. —Plenty of mana. —A decent stockpile of treasures and consumables.
Not great. But not hopeless.
Shenyuan sighed. "This is getting boring."
Then—he vanished.
I saw him.
Through Divine Sense.
Appearing—behind me.
But knowing wasn't the same as reacting.
A wet, sickening sound.
Pain.
His hand punched through my back, bursting past ribs, flesh, and muscle.
I looked down.
Saw it.
My own beating heart.
Blood dripped from his fingers.
Shenyuan chuckled. "It's fascinating, really. The human heart."
I didn't move. I didn't panic.
I waited.
The moment he squeezed—
I moved.
My fingers clamped around his wrist, my grip like iron.
And then I squeezed.
A flash of divine light.
Flash Parry.
The skill's flavor text was clear—parrying anything at the speed of light.
A skill born from Parry, but evolved into something faster and deadlier.
CRACK.
Shenyuan's wrist snapped like a dry twig.
His form flickered, vanishing—only to reappear meters away.
Holding a twisted, mangled hand.
He stared at it, then at me, lips curling.
"A heart for a hand? Seems like an uneven trade."
I wiped the blood from my lips.
"I don't think so."
I raised a hand. Cure.
Warmth spread through my chest. Flesh knit back together. Ribs reformed. A new heart took its place.
Shenyuan's eyes narrowed.
"I take it you're confused," I said. "After all, just how did I touch you?"
I grinned.
"Why don't you try again? Maybe you'll get it right this time."
I watched Shenyuan.
His intangibility wasn't some crude phasing ability.
He could interact with what he wanted and ignore what he didn't.
—My armor? Ignored. —My blade? Passed right through.
Yet—
I touched him.
That was enough to give me confidence.
Shenyuan's mangled hand began to knit itself back together.
I looked around with Divine Sense.
One of the undead—standing in the loose circle of monsters watching us—collapsed into a heap of dry bones and rotting flesh.
Ah. So it was that kind of healing.
It was time to get serious.
I raised my hand.
Compel Enemy.
A halo burst into existence—floating above me.
A second halo formed over Shenyuan's head.
His smirk faded.
I followed up.
Designate Holy Enemy.
A red, reversed cross appeared, floating atop his head like a brand of judgment.
I wasn't done.
Blessed Regeneration.
Warmth flooded my body, knitting my wounds at a constant rate.
Sacred Bulwark.
A shimmering aura surrounded me—Reflect Damage increased.
And then—
Blessed Weapon.
My Silver Steel gleamed, infused with the power of the divine.
One final set—
Holy Wrath.
Radiant Dawn.
The light surrounding me flared, empowering my next attack with explosive divine energy.
The night dimmed.
Even the stars seemed to fade.
Because Shenyuan was finally taking me seriously.
From the depths of his shadow, he pulled something out.
A saber.
So black, it seemed to consume the very light around it.
Shenyuan held it with ease.
His gaze met mine.
"You should be honored," he said, voice mocking, yet cold.
"Few get to see my full power and live to tell the tale."
My TriDivine passive shifted into Divine Flesh.
The change was immediate.
I stood still. Unmoving. Unshaken.
Yet, something inside me stirred.
A calm, seething anger, buried deep, pressed down beneath sheer will.
And then—
My presence grew.
I could feel it.
The very fabric of my existence sharpened.
My muscles compressed and condensed. Every fiber of my being undergoing a subtle, yet profound metamorphosis. This was the result of Mana Road Cultivation—the method Lu Gao and I had created together.
A technique that turned mana into a path. A path into stars.
And now—
First star.
A shift.
Second star.
The night air trembled.
Third star.
Shenyuan's eyes narrowed.
He finally realized—
My peculiarity.
"Kill him."
His voice snapped like a whip.
The undead and cultivators surged forward.
Spells, swords, spears— All crashed against me.
Against my armor. Against my skin. Against my face.
But—
I did not move.
I remained unharmed.
Fourth star.
A few of my attackers flinched.
They had started suffering—the effects of Reflect Damage bleeding into their forms.
Fifth star.
And still, I did not fall.
Instead—
With every blow I took, my Sacrificial Zeal kicked in.
It amplified the damage I returned. Multiplied it.
My Blessed Regeneration ensured I would not die from this small attacks.
Sixth star.
I raised my hand—
Righteous Reckoning.
A judgment skill.
It doubled my reflected damage.
And empowered my next skill.
Seventh star.
My attackers—
Every time they landed a hit, they exploded.
Not all at once.
Some just lost limbs. Some were annihilated entirely.
The cultivators stopped.
The braver ones hesitated.
And the ones who had their masks cracked?
They stared at me in fear.
Eighth star.
Shenyuan finally had enough.
"Fall back!"
His forces retreated.
But his face—his ever-present smirk—
Was gone.
He looked—
Furious.
Ninth star.
I exhaled.
And my aura erupted.
Wild. Unchecked. A storm of divine might.
I turned to Shenyuan.
I asked him,
"Can you run?"
His jaw tightened.
The usual amusement was gone.
In its place—only pure irritation.
I smiled.
And added—
"I want you to run."
A pause.
Then I whispered,
"So run for me, little hamster."
Shenyuan laughed.
No, he raved.
Mad, unhinged, his voice echoed across the battlefield, a fevered delirium soaked in arrogance.
"I have a grand destiny to fulfill!" he declared, eyes burning with twisted conviction. "One day, I will be a god! And you—"
His gaze bore into me, pupils dilated with sheer mania.
"—are nothing but rubble beneath my feet!"
He raised his saber.
A black tide followed his swing—
Darkness, formless and thick, rushed toward me like a flood of death.
It was invisible to the naked eye.
But not to me.
My Divine Sense laid it bare.
I could smell the rot. I could taste the bitterness. I could hear the wails. I could see the writhing souls within.
It was not a mere attack.
It was devouring fate itself.
And so—
I did not move.
Not yet.
I waited.
And then, at the very last moment—
I used Flash Parry.
Not immediately.
I delayed it.
Let the darkness strike me.
Let it touch me.
And the first microsecond it did—
I switched my TriDivine passive into Divine Speed.
The world slowed.
I activated Flash Step.
In an instant—
I disappeared.
And reappeared.
Right in front of Shenyuan.
His smirk froze.
My hand shot out, fingers locking around his wrist.
His saber trembled.
I let go of Silver Steel, returning it to my Item Box.
And then—
I leaned in. Embraced him.
Close.
Close enough to whisper.
"Final Adjudication."
Chapter 104
The night darkened.
The stars, once twinkling, faded as a shroud fell over the battlefield.
Shenyuan, the self-proclaimed Abyss, the One True Death, the Eternal Heir, found himself held.
An arm wrapped around his body.
Firm. Unyielding.
Like a hunter's grip on its prey.
And then—
A voice, calm and conversational, whispered right beside his ear.
"Let me reintroduce myself."
The tone was light. Casual.
Far too casual.
"The name's David, but you may call me Da Wei."
Shenyuan stilled.
Those names.
Familiar, yet alien in their delivery.
His mind raced—
But Da Wei was still talking.
"They stand for the characters Great Guard."
The grip tightened.
"So let me break this down for you—"
A chuckle.
A mocking, self-indulgent chuckle.
"Because you see, the animation sequence for the skill Final Adjudication is rather slow, and we still have a wee bit of time."
Shenyuan snarled.
Mockery. Pure, unfiltered mockery.
"Who doesn't like a good conversation anyway?" Da Wei continued, as if he was chatting over tea. "Ah, sorry about that. I tend to go on a tangent especially when I get emotional."
Shenyuan's fury boiled over.
He wasn't about to be toyed with!
He tapped into Qi Speech, his command instantaneous.
Attack him.
The remaining undead and cultivators received his order—
And moved.
But—
They didn't even make it a single step.
Instead, they disintegrated.
Ash.
That was all that remained.
Shenyuan's breath hitched.
His mind reeled.
This… this wasn't like before.
Unlike his fight against Da Wei's clone, where he had toyed and tested, where he had been untouchable—
Now, he was facing the real deal.
And for the first time in thousand of years…
A seed of fear took root in his heart.
Shenyuan strained against the grip, but he could not move.
The arm around his body held him firmly, pressing him into a mockery of an embrace.
And the man spoke again, his voice too casual and composed.
"That was just the prelude of Final Adjudication…"
A slight chuckle escaped his lips as if amused by his own words.
"So tell me," the man continued, his tone lighthearted, almost conversational, "Ever died before?"
Shenyuan's pupils contracted.
A joke.
A mocking question.
But before he could respond, the man kept going.
"Honestly, I'm curious. How does it feel to die?"
Shenyuan clenched his jaw.
"Would you be my first?"
A pause.
Then—
"Ah, that came out wrongly. I reckon you won't even be able to force my one foot on the grave. After all, look at you now—"
Shenyuan finally spoke, voice measured, but low with frustration.
"What do you want?"
The man's grip did not falter.
His voice flattened.
Emotionless.
"Don't you see?"
A cold truth beneath the words.
"I'm gloating about my victory."
Shenyuan scowled.
This man—this Da Wei—he was toying with him.
Mocking him.
But Shenyuan still had power.
His saber, a manifestation of abyssal shadow, was still in his grip.
He willed it.
A surge of qi and darkness exploded from his palm—
Or rather—
It should have.
Instead, his wrist groaned.
Then—
Cracked.
Then—
Burst.
The flesh of his hand ruptured, as if he had struck the divine itself.
Shenyuan gritted his teeth.
What… happened?
Da Wei's grip slackened for a brief moment, releasing his shattered wrist—
Only to pull him closer.
A second arm wrapped around him.
A full embrace.
Like an executioner comforting the condemned.
Shenyuan tensed.
Da Wei spoke once more.
His voice wasn't mocking anymore.
It was calm. Absolute.
"No sudden movements."
A pause.
"My body is covered by a unique spell and an innate ability."
Shenyuan's breath hitched.
Da Wei continued.
"They allow me to reflect any power, spell, or skill—"
A pause.
Then a whisper—
"Exponentially. Ad infinitum."
Shenyuan felt it.
A presence.
A force.
Something wrong.
Something beyond.
And for the first time in centuries—
He knew.
He could not win.
Shenyuan willed his escape.
He reached for Shadow Step, but the moment he activated it—
His mind reeled.
His vision spun like the world itself had been flipped upside down.
He staggered.
He—staggered.
A slow, almost mocking chuckle sounded next to his ear.
"Oh-ho, not so fast."
Da Wei's voice was dripping with amusement.
Shenyuan snarled.
Da Wei's grip was iron, his aura like a mountain crushing down on him.
"I've been rotating Flash Parry and Stagger, y'know?" Da Wei hummed, tone filled with malicious glee. "Just making sure you don't use any movement techniques."
Shenyuan stiffened.
It wasn't an accident.
It wasn't luck.
Da Wei was doing this on purpose.
He delighted in it.
Shenyuan growled in frustration.
He activated Shadow Swap, attempting to switch their destinies, their positions, their fates.
A dark surge rippled through his being—
Only for the world to twist again.
A nauseating wave of vertigo crashed into him.
His knees nearly buckled.
"Nah uh."
Da Wei's playful voice rang in his ear.
Shenyuan's stomach churned.
"That little trick? Yeah, I just used Exorcise on you."
Shenyuan's breath hitched.
No—
That wasn't possible—
"That, and my evolved Divine Sense?" Da Wei continued, grinning as if they were having an idle chat. "Unmatched. So give up, despair for me, plea for mercy, and struggle. Become my entertainment. Give me a reason to further prolong your suffering, so that you may continue to live for even one second longer."
Shenyuan's teeth clenched.
His mind raged.
He had to retaliate.
He had to crush Da Wei—
Tear him apart—
Trample him beneath his might—
His very existence demanded it.
Yet—
Golden cracks split the air.
Reality itself fractured, bleeding radiant power.
A colossal presence loomed over the battlefield—
Unseen.
Yet undeniable.
Shenyuan's eyes widened.
An overwhelming weight of divine authority bore down upon them.
"NO!"
He screamed.
His Qi Speech roared across the battlefield—
A command.
An order.
All of his remaining forces surged forward.
His mind worked at lightning speed, counting his remaining warriors.
He had come here with—
Four thousand.
Six hundred.
Fifty-two.
Both undead and cultivators.
Now—
Thanks to the Shadow Clan's resistance and that other Da Wei's interference—
He had barely a thousand left.
Shenyuan ground his teeth.
The sounds of exploding bones, rupturing organs, and splattering brain matter filled the battlefield—
His fanatics—his loyal soldiers—dying like insects.
And Da Wei?
He just stood there.
Unmoving.
Holding him in an embrace.
A crater formed beneath them.
Shenyuan's fanatics fought desperately, trying to free him or harm Da Wei in any way imaginable—
Yet—
Da Wei just stood there.
Not even bothering to resist.
And whenever a wound did appear—
He simply healed himself.
Casually.
Effortlessly.
As if their struggle was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
Shenyuan watched in horror.
His army—his loyal devotees, his undying legions—were being slaughtered like cattle.
No.
Not slaughtered.
Erased.
The moment their weapons and spells touched Da Wei—
They burst.
Flesh ruptured.
Bones shattered.
Viscera painted the battlefield like grotesque art.
Spells meant to burn, freeze, and curse rebounded violently, consuming their casters in an instant.
Screams of agony and madness filled the air.
Yet his fanatics did not falter.
They threw themselves forward with wild fervor, heedless of the carnage.
They believed.
They believed in him.
In Shenyuan.
The Eternal Abyss.
The One True Death.
They had to believe.
Because if they didn't—
What else was there?
They rushed, wave after wave, their bodies exploding like fragile clay dolls against a force they could not comprehend.
And Shenyuan?
He could do nothing.
Nothing except steal their souls.
Nothing except devour their shadows.
He absorbed their lingering essence, frantically grasping for power.
He was not a man to mourn.
He was not a man to regret.
The weak existed to serve the strong.
Their purpose was to fuel his ascension.
And he was not yet done.
He refused to be done.
He still had hope.
Yes—hope.
A bitter, fragile thing, but it was still there.
He drew upon the darkness—a tide of stolen vitality, of shattered wills, of a thousand desperate prayers.
His power boiled, surged, roared through his veins—
And he struck.
Hymns resounded, filling the battlefield with a divine reverberation.
It was not just a sound.
It was judgment made manifest.
The skill Da Wei activated sang into existence, its echoes rippling through flesh, qi, and spirit alike. "It's part two of the skill already," said Da Wei offhandedly. "Time flies by, too quickly."
Shenyuan roared.
Enough.
His qi surged, boiling like an ocean in a storm.
His body bulged, cracked, ruptured—
And exploded.
A wave of pure destruction tore outward, a detonation of abyssal force meant to shake his foe, to force him back even for a moment.
But Da Wei did not flinch.
Shenyuan reformed instantly, tendrils of darkness knitting him back together.
He had no time for hesitation.
With his teeth, he struck.
"Gluttonous Abyssal Maw!"
His mouth warped, his jaw dislocated, his throat expanded to a void of devouring hunger.
He combined it with the Savage Jaws of Death, a martial technique designed to shred even divine flesh.
He sank his fangs into Da Wei's exposed throat.
Blood spurted.
Shenyuan smirked, his Qi Speech mocking.
"You should have worn the helm."
And then—
His skull exploded.
Shenyuan's skull did.
White-hot pain.
Everything went dark.
Instinct took over.
He burned through his shadow reserves, his body rapidly reknitting itself, his head regenerating in mere moments.
When he opened his new eyes, he saw Da Wei—
Standing unharmed.
His throat good as new.
And worst of all—
Those unimpressed eyes.
As if Shenyuan was nothing.
A bug struggling in vain.
A lowly creature gasping for breath.
Unacceptable.
He struggled.
He flailed, twisting, wrenching his arms and legs, thrashing violently in Da Wei's grip.
He bit again—his fangs now wreathed in corrosive qi.
Boom.
His lower jaw detonated.
He headbutted, summoning all his cultivation strength into a single desperate strike.
Crack.
His skull fractured from the impact before it even reached Da Wei.
He clawed, his fingers tipped with tenebrous death, his nails extending into spears of blackened bone.
Snap.
His own arms broke, bending backward as if they had struck an immovable force.
He kicked, flung his legs, tried to twist free—
His kneecaps shattered.
He even tried to twist his torso free, to writhe like a shadow slipping through cracks—
But every smallest movement he made rebounded back at him.
Every motion—
Reflected.
The pain mounted.
The more he fought, the more he suffered.
The abyss did not fear agony.
He had died before.
He had crawled from death's maw.
But this—
This was humiliation!
Rings of celestial scripture spiraled around them, inscribed with ever-shifting verdicts, each letter burning with the weight of absolute law.
The air thrummed, charged with divine authority so pure it made the very fabric of reality strain.
Golden chains of light lashed out.
They did not move like things of the world.
They were not thrown, launched, nor wielded.
They manifested where they were meant to be.
Severing fate.
Binding the guilty.
A chain coiled around Shenyuan's throat. Another snared his limbs.
And more—
So many more.
They slithered from the sky, from the cracks in space, from the ground soaked in gore—seeking every undead, every cultivator still standing.
Every servant of the Eternal Undeath Cult.
The battlefield was consumed.
The space around them grew hotter, charged with radiant force beyond anything Shenyuan had felt before.
A wound in the heavens split wider above them.
From its depths, golden chains poured forth endlessly, spilling like the rivers of judgment itself.
And below—
A battlefield in ruin.
Shenyuan and Da Wei stood in the center of a bloody, chaotic hellscape, standing atop a messy pool of gore.
Rotten flesh, broken bones, liquified remains—
The battlefield was now a grotesque lake of death.
Yet Da Wei stood there, expressionless, unbothered by the carnage at his feet.
Shenyuan was trapped in his arms, his own movements binding him further, the golden chains ensuring there was no escape.
Shenyuan wailed.
"Let go of me!"
He thrashed, shrieked, struggled—slamming his head against Da Wei's bloody face again and again.
Crack.
His own skull split.
Boom.
His forehead ruptured, his brain bursting under his own force.
Yet, as his flesh reknit itself, as his darkness struggled to repair the damage, he saw it.
The look in Da Wei's eyes.
Unbothered.
Unshaken.
Waiting.
As if none of this mattered.
As if Shenyuan's struggle was merely the final, pitiful cries of a beast already condemned.
Why?
Why was this happening?
Shenyuan trembled, golden chains coiling tighter around his limbs, his very existence weighed by the celestial scripture spiraling through the air.
This wasn't supposed to be his fate.
He was supposed to become a god after this.
He was meant for more.
Yet—
Here he was.
Bound. Helpless.
Staring into Da Wei's cold, amused gaze.
Shenyuan's voice cracked as he let out a desperate, pathetic wail.
"How… How are you so strong? What's your secret?!"
Da Wei blinked.
Then, with the most casual shrug imaginable, he said—
"Git good."
Shenyuan's soul cracked a little.
But Da Wei wasn't finished.
"Also," he added offhandedly, as if discussing the weather, "I just broke the level cap, and my stats reached new high levels of peak."
There was no arrogance in his tone.
No mockery.
Just simple, matter-of-fact reality.
Then Da Wei smiled, eyes twinkling with an insufferable light.
"Anyway, here's a question."
Shenyuan flinched.
He knew, he just knew, that whatever was about to come out of Da Wei's mouth next would make him want to scream.
And sure enough—
"Guess what would happen if the climax of this skill, Final Adjudication, hits us like this—" Da Wei gestured at the absolute proximity between them, where their bodies were practically pressed together.
"—with my power to reflect damage still active?"
Shenyuan's pupils contracted, struggling to get out.
Da Wei leaned in, almost whispering in his ear, "It's almost part three of the skill, the final act."
And then—
A colossal scales of judgment materialized in the heavens.
It was so vast that its mere presence dwarfed the battlefield, stretching far into the skies, eclipsing the heavens.
The very air groaned under its weight.
The world itself shuddered.
And beneath its all-consuming gaze, the karma of every soul present was being weighed.
A verdict was coming.
Shenyuan's mind raced.
He had no choice.
He had to act now.
Even if it was forbidden.
Even if it would consume him.
Even if it would bring a fate worse than death.
He would ascend.
With a roar, Shenyuan raised his cultivation—pushing toward the Eleventh Realm.
Perfect Immortal.
The Godly Vessel.
This was the true start of Godhood.
It was a realm beyond the Trinity Celestial Paths, beyond the Endless Path, beyond the very limits of this godforsaken world—
A realm that was never meant to be touched.
But he reached for it anyway.
The shadows within him roared as he devoured every last fragment of power, every last drop of his existence—
He could feel it.
He was close.
He could—
No.
Something stopped him.
Something blocked him.
Something inside him.
An entity.
It stirred.
It laughed.
It denied him.
Shenyuan's breath hitched.
No—
NO—
THIS WAS UNFAIR!
THIS WAS NOT THE DEAL!
His voice broke as he screamed, his cries filled with madness, disbelief, and rage.
"THIS IS UNFAIR! THIS IS UNFAIR! THIS IS UNFAIR!"
He thrashed, his golden chains clattering, his form quivering with power he could not control.
He felt wronged.
Utterly, completely, cosmically wronged.
And then—
Da Wei simply tilted his head.
Blinking once.
Then twice.
And then, in the most disrespectfully casual voice imaginable, he asked—
"What?"
Shenyuan froze.
Da Wei's lips curled into a smirk.
"Cry for me, more."
And above—
The colossal scales of judgment tilted slightly.
Desperation came in many forms.
For Shenyuan—
It came in the form of pure spite.
If he couldn't have it—
Then no one could.
His bloodstained lips curled into a twisted smile as he stared Da Wei in the eyes, his golden chains rattling as he strained against fate itself.
"You're making a mistake," Shenyuan warned, voice low, almost coaxing.
Da Wei didn't look impressed.
So Shenyuan laughed.
Then he raved.
Like a madman.
Like someone who had already lost but refused to go down alone.
"Do you think you've won?" he sneered. "You think killing me will end this? Fool. I've sent my agents to various cities—across Deepmoor and beyond the continent."
His lips curled further, voice thick with glee as he continued.
"They've been converting people to my cause. The weak, the lost, the forsaken—they're already mine."
Still, Da Wei only watched.
Expression unmoving.
So Shenyuan leaned in further, pressing on with vicious delight.
"I've been in league with the Demonkind."
That finally made something flicker in Da Wei's gaze.
Shenyuan grinned wider.
"With their help, I've created something truly magnificent—Blood Demons."
He chuckled, then threw his head back, laughing.
"And if I die? If I suffer irreversible harm? Then Hell's Gate will open, and this world will be—"
He dragged out the last word, savoring it.
"Done. For."
Silence.
Da Wei just stared at him.
Unblinking.
And then Shenyuan pressed further.
"Oh, and let's not forget the best part."
From within his sleeves, he summoned two hearts—dark, pulsing things that once belonged to Da Wei.
The moment he crushed them, an overwhelming wave of malice surged forth.
A curse.
A curse woven with umbramancy so foul, so vile, it gnawed at reality itself.
Da Wei staggered.
He vomited blood.
Shenyuan didn't hesitate.
With a vicious kick, he sent Da Wei flying, twisting the shadows beneath him—
And with a modified Shadow Step, he teleported Da Wei away.
No more reflection.
No more binding.
He would survive this judgment.
The scales above tipped fully.
And in the next instant—
Golden karmic flames engulfed him.
Shenyuan screamed.
And then Shenyuan laughed.
Even as his skin peeled, even as the golden karmic flames gnawed at his very being, he laughed.
He would escape.
No—
Better yet.
He would fulfill his end of the bargain with the Demonkind.
The Shadow Clan's grounds—this cursed island—was the perfect place to summon Hell's Gate. That's why he had targetted it in the first place.
Yes.
Yes!
Even as his body burned, even as his bones cracked under divine judgment, Shenyuan poured every ounce of willpower into the formation he had prepared.
The second his undead occupied this land, the ritual had already begun.
It had been slow, insidious—weaving beneath the very foundations of the clan grounds.
Now, with a single motion, he activated it.
Power surged.
The ground shuddered.
And then—
Nothing.
His vision blurred.
His body trembled under the weight of divine punishment, his consciousness fraying like a thread unraveling at the seams.
FUCK!
"It looks like, retreat is the only option… My cultivation is too damaged to continue this…"
He reached into his robes, fingers trembling, and activated his teleportation talisman, only to fail. It probably had something to do with the golden chains still wrapped around him as the karmic flames continued to devour his shadows.
Shenyuan needed distance, quickly.
Desperately, he pulled another talisman, reinforcing it with his own essence, hoping—praying—that the golden karmic flames wouldn't consume it.
But the moment he tried to activate them—
FWISH!
A streak of light tore through the air.
An arrow.
A perfect fusion of water and fire.
It pierced through the first talisman, reducing it to ash.
"What?!" Shenyuan snarled.
His Abyss Sight flared to track the trajectory—
And then he saw her.
A little girl.
Small. Fragile.
Yet her hands did not shake as she nocked another arrow, qi swirling at the tip.
It was the darn… goldfish.
Shenyuan clicked his tongue, suppressing his rage.
He hurled a Shadow Spear at the child—
CLANG!
The spear was parried.
A figure stepped forward frm nowhere.
Unscathed. Unbothered.
Da Wei.
Shenyuan's eye twitched.
"Tch." He gritted his teeth as the golden karmic flames continued to devour him.
Da Wei tilted his head, then—
He whistled.
A slow, almost mocking tune.
Then he grinned.
"Run, run, little hamster."
Shenyuan's entire army was gone.
His fanatics, his undead, his soldiers—
All of them had burned.
Reduced to nothing.
A game.
This was a losing game.
And as much as he loathed to admit it—
He had to retreat.
Now.
But first—
A final threat.
His voice darkened as he stared at Da Wei.
"Let me go, or you'll regret it."
Shenyuan's mind raced.
There was still a way.
That little girl.
The fish-turned-human who had interfered with his escape.
If he could take her hostage, he could force Da Wei to yield.
Yes.
A bargaining chip.
A last-minute salvation.
He parted his lips to speak—
And then he froze.
A hand jutted out from his chest.
Flesh. Bone. Blood.
His heart.
Still beating.
Still trembling.
Shenyuan's eyes widened as he stared at it.
It pulsed, veins writhing like a living entity, its bloodstained surface facing him—
As if it were watching him die.
"How?"
His voice was hoarse.
His mind refused to accept it.
He understood that his intangibility was failing—the golden karmic flames embracing him made sure of that—
But this…
This wasn't the answer he was looking for.
A voice echoed from behind him.
Casual. Amused. Cruel.
"Ever heard of a Magic Scroll of Invisibility? Or how about a Magic Scroll of Blink or Teleportation?"
Shenyuan's spine stiffened.
He tried to turn his head—
And saw Da Wei.
Cold eyes. Indifferent. Unmoved.
The sheer lack of hatred—the sheer lack of effort in killing him—
Made something deep within Shenyuan shatter.
He had fought for so long.
Schemed for so many years.
And now—
He was going to die.
No.
No!
He had one last card to play.
Shenyuan forced his aura to shift.
His expression softened.
His voice wavered.
"…Big Brother."
Da Wei's eyes narrowed.
The voice. The tone. The words.
It was not Shenyuan's.
No.
This was Hei Mao's voice.
Trembling, uncertain—filled with desperation.
"Big Brother… if you kill me now, you will doom the Empire."
Shenyuan stared at him, eyes full of fake innocence.
"An incomplete Hell's Gate…" His voice shook, perfectly mimicking the fear of a child. "It will open in the Empire. The Blood Demons I created… they will go berserk. They will slaughter countless innocents. Do you want that, Big Brother?"
Silence.
Then—
A flicker of hesitation.
It was small. Almost imperceptible.
But Shenyuan saw it.
He succeeded.
The look in Da Wei's eyes—
That brief moment of uncertainty—
It meant he had succeeded.
A small, flickering triumph bloomed in his chest.
Yes.
Yes!
He would live—
"NO! NO! NO! KILL THEM ALL!"
A shrill scream shattered the moment.
Shenyuan turned.
The little girl—
Ren Jingyi.
She descended from above, her body covered in grime, blood, and exhaustion.
A bow slung over her shoulder.
A whip in her trembling hands.
Her tear-streaked face contorted in rage.
"KILL THEM ALL!" she wailed.
Her small frame shook, her voice breaking—
But the fire in her eyes did not dim.
Shenyuan gritted his teeth.
This brat—!
"Ren Jingyi."
Da Wei's voice cut through the air.
Cold.
Final.
The girl stiffened.
Da Wei did not look at her.
His expression remained calm. Unreadable.
"It's not your decision."
Ren Jingyi visibly deflated.
Her hands trembled.
Her breath hitched.
Shenyuan felt relief flood him.
Yes.
Yes…
He had one more chance.
He had bought himself another—
"It's mine."
The words were spoken lightly.
But before Shenyuan could process them—
Da Wei's hand tightened.
And crushed his heart.
Shenyuan choked.
His body convulsed—
And then—
CRACK.
Another hand pierced his abdomen from behind.
Lightning crackled.
Electricity surged through his very being, ripping through his muscles, his bones, his soul.
He felt something pull.
His intestines. His spine.
Being ripped away.
Being torn from him.
The golden karmic flames swallowed him whole.
His consciousness fractured.
And in his final moment—
As his body disintegrated into nothingness—
The last thing he saw—
Was Da Wei.
Crying.
Tears ran down his face.
But his smile…
His smile held pity.
As if disappointed.
As if saying—
You were never going to win.
Shenyuan did not understand why.
Did not understand what went wrong.
His mind faded.
His soul burned.
And then—
There was nothing.
Except—
A mournful cry.
"I'm sorry!"
A child's voice, trembling, raw with grief.
"Hei Mao!"
The name echoed.
"Thank you!"
A wail of loss.
"Until next time!"
A scream of denial.
But there was no answer.
Because Hei Mao was never there.
There was only Shenyuan.
And now—
Not even him.