Outside the Starry Sky Sect…
Hundreds of demonic cultivators swarmed in front of the sect's broken gates. At their forefront stood an old man, a chilling smile twisting his face as though splitting it in half. His skin was blackened like scorched earth, and his obsidian-black eyes gleamed with malice beneath a conical hat. On his back loomed a grotesque banner, appearing almost alive with writhing human faces that screamed and struggled as if desperate to escape.
Opposite him, the Starry Sky Sect disciples stood in resolute formation, their weapons gleaming under the waning light. At the head of their ranks was a white-haired elder with sword-like brows, his aura radiating dignity and authority. His once-handsome features bore the marks of age but retained a commanding presence.
"Xian Chen, to what do we owe this… unwelcome pleasure?" the elder asked, his voice calm but edged with disdain.
The black-robed elder's eerie grin widened even further, his teeth glinting like jagged stones. "Nothing much, actually, Zhou Feng. I heard a little rumor that your sect leader is conveniently… out on a vacation. So, my Devil Dwelling Sect thought we'd drop by to collect the devil star."
Zhou Feng's eyes narrowed, his composure faltering for just a moment. The scowl that followed betrayed the truth: there were traitors within the sect. How else could this information, newly revealed, have reached the demonic path so swiftly?
"I suppose there is no further use for words, then," Xian Chen declared, spreading his arms theatrically. His voice boomed like thunder. "Disciples, attack! Claim the devil star, no matter the cost!"
A chorus of bloodthirsty roars erupted from the demonic disciples as they surged forward like a black tide.
"Defend the sect!" Zhou Feng commanded, his voice ringing with resolve. "Let these vile scum taste our steel!"
The clash of swords, the hum of spells, and the cries of warriors filled the air as chaos descended upon the battlefield.
---
Meanwhile, back in the recruitment hall, a transmission stone flared to life. The five gathered elders exchanged grim looks before rushing toward the young disciple who had awakened the devil star constitution. Without warning, the lone female elder among them turned on her comrades. Her sword flashed like a lightning strike, severing one of their heads in a single, decisive motion.
"Muo Rung!" one of the remaining elders exclaimed in disbelief. "To think you were a spy for the demonic path!"
Muo Rung offered no answer. Instead, she turned to the devil star disciple and shouted, urgency dripping from every word, "Run! Head for the sect gates! The others will protect you!"
The disciple didn't hesitate, his legs moving before his mind could catch up. He sprinted toward the exit with all the speed he could muster.
"Don't let him escape!" one elder bellowed. His voice echoed through the hall, igniting fierce determination in the recruits. "Capture him, and a spot as a core disciple is yours!"
The promise of power and status turned the recruits into a ravenous pack. Only three among them remained unmoved: the stoic Starry Spirit Constitution, the quiet fatty, and Seth himself.
While the others surged forward, Seth's lips curved into a smile. To the others, this moment was chaos, but to him, it was opportunity. He thought back to the old saying: with misfortune comes fortune.
In truth, Seth still had an ace up his sleeves all this while which was his newly acquired ability, but since the ordeal began he barely had any time to use it.
Activating his first ability, "The Cameraman's Stealth," Seth felt the familiar sensation of his sixth sense awakening. This ability, nestled in his soul, severed one of reality's most primal laws: causality. He vanished—not in body, but in perception. Like a cameraman in a movie, his presence faded entirely, unnoticed and unremembered.
But he still felt the silent tug on his soul, until he finished this ordeal he wouldn't acquire any soul essence so right now using this ability put a strain on his soul.
Taking advantage of the chaos, Seth picked a random corridor and ran, navigating the labyrinthine passages with signs pointing toward various abodes. One caught his eye: the Keeper's Manor.
After ten minutes of weaving through dimly lit halls, Seth arrived before a pair of immense silver doors marked by the words "Keeper's Manor."
Looking at the pair of doors wondering just how he was going to open it.
As if by fate, the doors rumbled open, and two young men rushed out, muttering as they passed. "We need to hurry. The order's been given—eliminate the devil star," one of them said.
Seth lingered for a moment, suspicion gnawing at him. Could it really be this easy? Shaking his head, he dismissed the thought. Whatever lay ahead, he had to enter. If he wanted to return to his timeline, this was his best chance.
He stepped into the darkness beyond the doors. The room was vast and lightless, but his eyes caught faint glimmers: rows upon rows of shelves, endless and towering. For a brief moment, delight overtook him—until reality set in. Thousands of books surrounded him, and he had no way to comb through them all in time.
As doubt began to creep in, his seed emerged, its light cutting through the gloom. Information flooded his mind.
[Host has come into contact with ancient empowerment knowledge.]
[Scanning and assimilating all information—thirty minutes left.]
Relief washed over Seth, but it was short-lived.
The hairs on Seth's neck stood on end and an unending stream of sweat formed on his back.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" an amused voice purred, dangerously close to his ear.