"I know," Zhi Xuan replied, his gaze never wavering from the throbbing jade characters. "But in this world you call a jungle of gods, being prey is a choice made by those unwilling to be predators. Let them covet this body; it only means they acknowledge a majesty they have yet to achieve."

  "Soul Transformation," Ruo Xianxue began, waving her hand as visions of the realm manifested in Zhi Xuan’s mind. "Is the stage where a cultivator enters early godhood, recognizing that cultivation of the Dao is entirely a transformation of the soul."

  "The spiritual blood, which serves as the meridians for the Divine Organs, will shed and become Divine Essence Blood," she continued. "The Soul Fire that condenses the Divine Wheel will transform into a Divine Spirit. You will no longer rely on Divine Black Jade as a source of essence; instead, you will transition entirely to Heavenly Jade."

  "Divine Essence Blood and Divine Spirit will enter into union," Ruo Xianxue’s voice accompanied images of Soul Transformation cultivators in Zhi Xuan’s mind. "When they fuse completely, they transform into a Divine Soul. The body may die, but the soul remains eternal."

  "Divine Soul," Zhi Xuan murmured, his voice echoing hollowly among the constellations. He felt the weight of those words—an existence where the mortal frame was merely a vessel to be discarded, while the soul became a sovereign entity capable of traversing thousands of miles in the blink of an eye.

  "But for you, brat," Ruo Xianxue narrowed her eyes. "This process will be ten times more agonizing. You must first refine that Devil Seed, separate the Evil Energy, and release the burden of Xuan-Huang within your body that weighs down your cultivation."

  "Soul Transformation is the Heavenly Way," Ruo Xianxue added warningly. "If you do not separate these things gradually, you will be forever trapped in the half-step Soul Transformation realm."

  "I understand," Zhi Xuan replied flatly. He spread his hands over his lap, letting the Fifteen Formations of Devil Purification Scroll be lifted by his inner essence. "Separating darkness from the core of the soul without extinguishing its power. It is a dance on the edge of a blade."

  Zhi Xuan closed his lone sapphire eye. In the next moment, he formed a hand seal. Instantly, the Jade Scroll spewed fifteen pillars of golden light that slammed into the ground around the altar, forming a prison of light that isolated Zhi Xuan from the astral winds of the Great Constellation.

  "Five Earth-Sustaining Prisons!" Zhi Xuan roared internally, immediately beginning the first of the three major stages of the purification.

  Instantly, the depths of Zhi Xuan’s Sea of Consciousness surged. The Devil Seed, which had been in the form of a seed with an eclipse pattern, hissed sharply. A silhouette with dark purple hair—possessing the same face as Zhi Xuan but with blood-red, oppressive eyes—emerged on the surface of his consciousness.

  "You dare try to refine me?" The sharp hiss came from the purple-haired figure as dozens of chains from the Five Earth-Sustaining Prisons shot into Zhi Xuan’s Sea of Consciousness, instantly binding the dark entity.

  The purple-haired figure laughed—a laugh that split Zhi Xuan’s inner silence like lightning striking the ocean. Every vibration of his laughter carried waves of cold intended to extinguish the Soul Fire burning at the center of his meridians.

  "I am the blood you hide beneath your robes! I am everything regarding your fears and obsessions! How can you possibly purify yourself, Zhi Xuan?!" the Inner Devil screamed, his voice a resonance of thousands of screaming souls once slaughtered by the youth’s blade.

  The chains of light clattered loudly, tightening until they emitted spiritual sparks as they tried to lock the Devil’s movements. However, the dark figure gripped the chains with his bare hands, letting his skin burn from the heavenly light while his crimson eyes stared intently at Zhi Xuan’s central consciousness.

  "The Killing Intent you gathered, the Karma you built... all of it is me!" the purple-haired figure roared, his voice dripping with Devilish Thoughts that shook the Sea of Consciousness.

  In the outside world, Zhi Xuan’s body began to emit a thick black mist from every pore. The mist churned, forming agonizing faces that clawed at the dome of light from the jade formation surrounding him. The jade altar beneath him began to crack, unable to withstand the weight of an inner struggle so saturated with killing intent.

  Zhi Xuan clenched his jaw until blood seeped from between his teeth. Inside his Sea of Consciousness, he manifested himself—a figure in white-and-black robes with a single glowing sapphire eye. He stood on the surface of the turbulent water, staring at the dark shadow of himself.

  "You are not me," Zhi Xuan said, his voice calm yet carrying unshakable authority. "You are merely a soul I will refine into myself. If you are a part of my power, then you must submit to my will, not become the master of my body."

  Zhi Xuan stomped his foot. Instantly, the essence of Autumn exploded within him. Withered golden leaves began to fall from the sky of his Sea of Consciousness, carrying a powerful aura of decay. Every leaf that touched the purple Devil’s skin began to absorb his evil aura, turning the fire of rage into silent ash.

  "Ugh—!" The Devil groaned, his imposing body shrinking slightly as the Law of Seasons forced his essence to decay. "You... you dare use the laws of nature to suppress your own origin?!"

  "I am not suppressing you," Zhi Xuan growled. He moved his hands, and the chains seemed to drag the Devil Seed up from the depths of his consciousness. "I am simply going to harvest you!"

  The Five Earth-Sustaining Prisons was a formation designed to pull the Devil Seed from its grip on the Sea of Consciousness, completely separating it first—a turning point to overcome the sluggishness of Soul Transformation.

  However, the Devil Seed was not as easily dealt with as expected. For a time that felt immeasurable by mortal standards within the Second Great Constellation, Zhi Xuan struggled within himself to drag the Devil Seed to the surface. The Heavenly Samsara Wheel vibrated violently; the nebula-jingga sky of his inner world was surrounded by lightning—the physical manifestation of his internal war.

  Outside, Xiao Die and Ao Sheng hid entirely behind the Heavenly Trifold Reincarnation Cauldron. The two of them peeked out fearfully. Xiao Die hesitantly flicked life essence from her rainbow dust to try and repel the black mist escaping Zhi Xuan’s body.

  "Little Dragon, little Moth," Ruo Xianxue scolded, shaking her head slowly. "Do not use any external essence. This is his battle with his inner devil; outside essence will only interfere with him."

  Hearing Ruo Xianxue’s warning, Xiao Die immediately withdrew her tiny fingers with a worried face, while Ao Sheng gripped the legs of the cauldron even tighter, as if the Xuan-Huang burden within was the only thing keeping him grounded amidst the astral storm.

  At the center of the altar, Zhi Xuan’s frame had become a horrific battlefield. The black mist emerging from his pores began to crystallize into fine thorns that tore his new robes. His deathly pale face was now decorated with black veins crawling toward his temples, pulsing in rhythm with his slowed but powerful heartbeat.

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  Inside his Sea of Consciousness, the Inner Devil’s screams grew deafening. The purple-haired figure began to change shape, his body expanding and sprouting thousands of shadow arms that tried to snap the chains of light.

  "You want to harvest me?!" the Devil roared, his crimson eyes glowing with pure madness. "Look at this field you have planted! Every drop of blood you spilled is water for my growth! You cannot separate yourself from your shadow without becoming blind forever!"

  Zhi Xuan ignored the taunts. He focused his entire being on the Heavenly Samsara Wheel. He realized that if he relied solely on suppression, the Devil Seed would explode and destroy his soul. Thus, the best way was to confront the Devil Seed directly through the second stage of the Fifteen Formations of Devil Purification.

  "Five Soul-Plucking Mirrors!" Zhi Xuan roared hoarsely, stomping his foot within his consciousness.

  Instantly, five giant mirrors made of ancient bronze—rusted by time—emerged from the surface of the Sea of Consciousness. The mirrors circled the purple-haired Devil, emitting a somber gray light with a mystical pull capable of peeling away every layer of inner deception.

  Zhi Xuan lost his vision for a moment before finding himself standing in a wheat field. The familiar scent of cakes, the chime of goat bells, and the bustle of Star Village felt strikingly real. Zhi Xuan froze, looking down at his palms; he wore his old red-silked black robes, and his hair was black and long once more.

  He looked up, and there he saw the silhouette of the friend who had always accompanied him: Mingling. The energetic youth waved at him. "Zhi Xuan, you're finally back!"

  Zhi Xuan was stunned. The wind blowing through this wheat field felt so real, carrying a solar warmth he hadn't felt in the cold cultivation world for ages. In the distance, Star Village stood peacefully, as if his departure to protect them had been nothing but a long nightmare.

  "Mingling..." Zhi Xuan whispered, his voice trembling with emotions he was supposed to have buried at the bottom of his Dao Heart.

  Mingling ran closer, his face clean, without wounds, without blood. In the distance, the faint laughter of villagers and the aroma of cooking from their old home's kitchen could be heard. This was a lost Paradise, a memory strictly guarded by the only humane part of his soul.

  "Zhi Xuan, you're back!" Mingling’s voice cracked. The energetic youth hugged Zhi Xuan tightly and patted his back. "My friend, I missed you so much!"

  Mingling’s hug felt so warm—a warmth foreign to Zhi Xuan’s body, which for years had only known the chill of spiritual essence and the stench of enemy blood. For a moment, the warrior’s inner defenses wavered. He wanted to return the hug, to release the burden of the Heavenly Dao fragments, the burden of revenge, and the burden of loneliness weighing down his shoulders.

  "Hey, isn't this our savior?" another bustling voice reached Zhi Xuan’s ears. It sounded so real, coming from Tang, the muscular youth who was a close friend. "Zhuwei, Bashan! Look, the shepherd who saved Star Village from the Poison Sect has returned!"

  Zhi Xuan stood frozen amidst the crowd welcoming him with tearful cheers. Zhuwei and Bashan approached with wide strides, their faces beaming as if no dark clouds had ever shaded their village. All of this felt so perfect, so beautiful, that his empty right eye socket no longer throbbed with pain.

  Zhi Xuan allowed himself to be pulled into Mingling’s embrace. The warmth spreading through his chest felt incredibly real. He could smell the damp earth and freshly harvested wheat—a scent that logic told him should have long been gone, yet his inner senses insisted this was reality.

  "You were gone too long, Zhi Xuan," Mingling released the hug, looking at Zhi Xuan with clear eyes full of brotherly love. "Look at you... your robes are so strange, and your hair... since when did you let it grow this long?"

  Zhi Xuan could only remain silent, his lips paralyzed. He looked at Mingling’s hand holding his shoulder; there were no scars, no calluses from holding a blade. He looked at Tang, Zhuwei, and Bashan, who now surrounded him, laughing and nudging each other like the days when their biggest worry was a wolf eyeing a goat in the meadow.

  "Come, Auntie Lian has cooked jade wolf meat soup," Mingling invited, pulling Zhi Xuan’s arm.

  Zhi Xuan’s steps felt light—too light. He followed the crowd into Star Village. Every street corner he passed triggered pieces of memories long locked away: Grandma Mu’s house emitting medicinal scents, Uncle Xu’s shop still releasing tea steam, children running with wooden toys, and the large tree in the center of the village where he used to rest.

  Under that tree sat an old woman with a wrinkled face radiating eternal peace. Upon seeing Zhi Xuan, the woman stood tremblingly, tears rolling down her withered cheeks.

  "Xuan-er... my child," the woman whispered. Auntie Lian—the woman who had cared for Zhi Xuan since he was a child, making the star-embroidered cloth wrapped around his arm.

  Zhi Xuan’s chest felt tight. He stepped forward, his legs shaking as if he had become a small boy learning to walk for the first time. He knelt before her, burying his face in a lap that smelled of incense and jasmine. "Auntie Lian..."

  Auntie Lian’s rough yet warm hand stroked Zhi Xuan’s hair with a tenderness capable of melting a glacier. Zhi Xuan’s sobs broke in her lap—not the sobs of a feared cultivator, but the cries of an orphan who had finally found his way home.

  "You have suffered too much, child," Auntie Lian’s voice trembled, seeping into the recesses of his soul and washing away the bloodstains clinging to his spirit. "Look at these hands... full of calluses and wounds. Why must you lift a sword? Why must you chase a heaven so far and cold?"

  Zhi Xuan looked up, his lone eye staring at Auntie Lian’s face, blurred by tears. "I did it... to protect you all. To ensure Star Village would never burn again."

  "But we are here, Xuan-er," Mingling interrupted, kneeling beside him and placing a hand on Zhi Xuan’s back. "Look around you. There is no fire, no poison sect, no suffering. This village is eternal because you love us. Why must you return to that world of slaughter? Stay here... live as an ordinary human, as our brother."

  Zhi Xuan froze. The words ordinary human echoed like a deadly heavenly fairy song. In the outside world, he was hunted prey, a feared devil, and a tool for imperial interests. But here, he was Zhi-er. He was a shepherd boy. He was part of a family.

  "Stay here," Tang, Zhuwei, and Bashan whispered in unison. They all smiled—a smile so sincere it caused Zhi Xuan’s inner defenses to fracture a thousand times.

  Slowly, Zhi Xuan felt the spiritual essence within his body begin to dim. The Heavenly Samsara Wheel slowed, and the sapphire glow in his eye faded into the ordinary sapphire color he had as a mortal. The devil runes on his left arm began to pale, as if the hatred giving him strength was being sucked dry by this false peace.

  He let Mingling pull him to his feet. They took him to a large wooden table under the shade of the old tree. The steaming meat soup filled his nose, and a human hunger—something he hadn't felt in hundreds of years—now stirred in his stomach.

  Zhi Xuan took the wooden spoon with trembling hands. As the warm liquid touched his tongue, a pure delight exploded in his head. This was no miraculous pill or bitter earth essence; this was love cooked into food.

  "It's good, isn't it?" Auntie Lian asked, wiping the corner of Zhi Xuan’s eye with the edge of her cloth. "Eat plenty. After this, you can sleep in your old barracks. Auntie has replaced your bed with new linens."

  Zhi Xuan nodded silently, his heart feeling very light, as if the burden of the world he had carried all this time was just a heavy cloak that had finally been cast off. He began to laugh with Mingling, listening to silly stories about escaped goats, and felt truly happy.

  However, at the furthest corner of his sinking consciousness, Ruo Xianxue’s voice sounded very faintly, like a passing whisper of wind. "Brat... you are drowning..."

  Zhi Xuan ignored the whisper. He didn't want to hear about cultivation. He didn't want to hear about Sacred Devils or enlightenment. He just wanted to sit here, under the warm sun, with the people he loved.

  "Zhi Xuan, look at this!" Mingling showed him a new cloth embroidery. "Auntie Lian made it for you. This time the pattern isn't stars, but the sun, so you will always feel warm."

  Zhi Xuan received the cloth, feeling it with his fingertips. The softness of the fabric made him even more reluctant to wake. He felt his eyelids grow heavy; a peaceful drowsiness enveloped him.

  "Sleep, Xuan-er," Auntie Lian whispered in his ear. "Sleep... let the sword rust, let the grudge vanish. You are home."

  Zhi Xuan closed his eyes, letting the comfortable darkness embrace him. In the real world, Zhi Xuan’s body—sitting cross-legged on the altar of the Great Constellation—began to be covered by a thin layer of black crystal. The black mist that had been escaping wildly was sucked back into his heart, but not because he had conquered it, but because the Inner Devil had successfully dragged his soul into an endless golden cage.

  His tense face slowly relaxed, forming a thin, strange smile. The smile of a man who had surrendered to a beautiful fate, while around him, the Five Soul-Plucking Mirrors began to vibrate violently, emitting a blood-red color—a sign that the inhabitant of the formation had been entirely swallowed by the illusion.