Zhi Xuan raised his left hand, which was now completely covered in pulsating silver patterns. He used no weapon; instead, he merely flicked his finger toward the giant knight’s massive blade.

  TING!

  The chime was minuscule, yet its impact was monumental. A gray shockwave rippled from the point of contact, freezing the giant knight’s momentum as if time itself had ground to a halt. Zhi Xuan did not stop there; he stirred the Heavenly Samsara Wheel within his soul, summoning the Heavenly Sword.

  "A blade gathered in dust for too long," Zhi Xuan hissed. The Heavenly Sword hovered at his side, radiating a dark blade wreathed in lightning runes. "Submit to Man-Sword Unity."

  The radiance of the Man-Sword Unity released by Zhi Xuan created a transparent ripple that swept the rusted dust across the entirety of the hill. Thousands of swords thrust into the ground vibrated violently, emitting a low humming sound as if they were paying homage to a king who had just descended onto the battlefield.

  The headless Sword Knight jerked, the black threads of hatred binding its body beginning to unravel as it sensed a sword intent far purer and more absolute than its own.

  "One sword cleaves the heavens, one intent locks destiny," Zhi Xuan murmured.

  The Heavenly Sword at his side whirred, the black lightning runes along its length lashing out, incinerating the Yin aura that dared to draw near. Without any excessive movement, Zhi Xuan simply swept his hand upward.

  CRAAACK!

  An incredibly thin gray line cleaved the air, bisecting the giant knight right through its mass of rusted steel. There was no massive explosion, only a release. The knight’s body crumbled into lifeless metal shards, and the thousands of trapped sword spirits within shrieked for a moment before being swallowed by the Heavenly Sword.

  "Merely restless sword spirits," Zhi Xuan hissed. "Become nourishment for my Immortal Treasure."

  Zhi Xuan stood tall atop the pulsating red earth, while the Heavenly Sword beside him slowly dimmed its black lightning after devouring the thousands of guardian spirits. Behind him, General Tie Feng gasped for air, his once bloodshot eyes now staring at Zhi Xuan’s back with a dread that transcended words. He, a general who had survived hundreds of battlefields, had just witnessed a youth destroy the guardian of the Sword Grave with a mere flick of a finger and a single sword intent.

  "Brother... Gu..." Tie Feng’s voice was hoarse, choked by shame and horror. "Who... who are you, exactly?"

  Zhi Xuan did not turn. His eyes remained fixed on the darkness of the abyss ahead, where Master Taixuan had disappeared. "Who I am is of no importance to those who have already stepped into the grave, General. If you still wish to preserve what remains of your soul, take Ba Yan and leave this place before the Sword Karma beneath your feet pulls you down entirely."

  Zhi Xuan glanced around at the three early-stage Soul Transformation cultivators who had been weakened by the Ancient Demon Land itself. "Beyond saving. You three can only rely on yourselves."

  With a subtle wave of his hand, he unleashed the Silence of Slaughter—a killing without denial that made the air seem to hold its breath for a heartbeat before Zhi Xuan struck the three cultivators. Their bodies faded into blood-mist without a chance to speak; their Divine Spirits soared high in spiritual circles, drifting away, free from the suppression of the Ancient Demon Land.

  "Those Divine Spirits, at least they will survive until they find new vessels," Zhi Xuan whispered to himself. He paused for a moment to absorb the blood mist. "Law of the Heavenly-Blood Body."

  The blood mist from the three Soul Transformation bodies he had just cut down was absorbed into his frame, reforming the Slaughter Seal that pulsed on his blackened left arm beneath his robe. He did not hesitate to seize every opportunity to harvest the blood that would strengthen his physique—even if this was the Demonic Path.

  Zhi Xuan sat cross-legged in the center of the fading blood-mist vortex. His divine body emitted a faint crackling sound, like hot metal dipped in cold water, as the Slaughter Seal on his left arm absorbed the essence of the three experts. The energy did not just wash through his meridians; it imparted a faint silver glow to his blackened skin, creating a stark contrast with his pristine black-and-white robe.

  Li Chen streaked toward him, landing with a crunch atop the shards of rusted swords. He stared at the spot where their three companions had just vanished, then looked at Zhi Xuan with an expression hard to describe. "You gave them freedom through the death of the flesh, Brother Gu. A very bloody mercy."

  "This land would not have let them live as men, only as walking corpses," Zhi Xuan answered flatly, his eyes scanning the residual spiritual energy still drifting in the air. "Better for their Divine Spirits to seek a way out than to be dragged into the bottomless pit below."

  General Tie Feng, witnessing the brief yet efficient slaughter, could only clench his fists against the red earth. He realized that before Zhi Xuan, differences in cultivation stages were meaningless if one’s mental foundation had wavered. With great effort, he stood and supported Ba Yan’s weight.

  Tie Feng and Ba Yan gaped, their weakened bodies trembling. They no longer saw Zhi Xuan as a talented young cultivator, but as a figure who walked through ruins, striking coldly to grant life.

  "Thank you for your 'mercy,' Brother Gu," Tie Feng said with a heavy tone, full of newfound respect. "If I am granted a long life, I shall repay this debt outside this Demon Land."

  Zhi Xuan gave only a minimal nod before turning toward the gaping mouth of the abyss. "Go. The true storm of Sword Intent will awaken the moment Taixuan touches the core of the grave."

  "Please... avenge us against Master Taixuan," Ba Yan spoke weakly, met only by Zhi Xuan’s cold silence.

  As Tie Feng and the remnants of the group retreated, the silence of the Grave of Rusted Swords shifted into an incredibly high-pitched hum. Zhi Xuan stepped toward the lip of the abyss. Below, the darkness seemed to have mass; it was thick, smelling of iron, and radiating a thirst that had been suppressed for millennia.

  "Brother Gu," Li Chen began, sharpening his gaze to inspect Zhi Xuan’s strange physique. "Are you a cultivator of the Demonic Path?"

  Li Chen stared at Zhi Xuan’s covered left arm; even the palm was completely hidden. It gave the impression that beneath that limb lay something he could neither see nor pierce. "If so, then you are a practitioner of the Dual Path—a deviation that feels... so heavy and unimaginable."

  Zhi Xuan did not answer immediately. The wind from the abyss, carrying shards of rust, blew fiercely, tossing his wild, unbound black hair. He stared at his left palm, where silver patterns now grew, glowing dimly against the darkness of his divine blackened frame.

  "The Demonic Path, the Heavenly Path," Zhi Xuan said in a voice as cold as ice frozen on an eternal mountain peak. "The Dao of Heaven is vast and cruel. I walk neither under the light nor within the darkness; I walk upon a path of my own creation."

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  Li Chen was stunned, his jade fan now snapped firmly shut. He felt an authority that did not stem from Soul Transformation pressure, but from a level of consciousness far higher—as if the youth before him was the reincarnation of an entity that had ruled the heavens before the current laws of nature were even formed.

  "The Dual Path..." Li Chen whispered. "History records that those who try to balance two opposing poles usually end with a fractured soul or a body exploded into ash. Yet you... you seem to grow more solid every time you swallow blood and laws."

  "Because I do not merely balance them, Brother Li. I devour them," Zhi Xuan replied calmly, exhaling a long breath.

  Zhi Xuan turned his palm, letting a thin vortex of twilight-gray energy dance between his fingers. "This world knows the separation between pure and foul, between light and shadow. But to the Dao of Heaven, everything is merely dust waiting to return to the Dao."

  He stepped forward, his feet treading the empty air above the abyss that yawned like the mouth of an ancient dragon. Each step created a serene spatial ripple, as if the laws of the Ancient Demon Land did not dare touch his robe.

  "Come, Brother Li. Taixuan has already begun his death dance down there," Zhi Xuan said. Without waiting for an answer, his body plummeted into the pitch-black darkness of the Grave of Rusted Swords, leaving a trail of silver radiance that was slowly swallowed by the Yin aura.

  Li Chen took a deep breath, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat. "Devouring two poles... a truly nonsensical existence." With a lithe movement, he jumped as well, following Zhi Xuan’s shrinking shadow into the dark.

  The deeper they descended, the temperature plummeted to a point where ordinary spiritual essence would freeze. The walls of the abyss were no longer stone or earth, but piles of millions of broken swords locked together, forming a natural defense that radiated highly aggressive Sword Intent.

  At the bottom of the abyss, the sight was far more horrific than anything the cultivators on the surface had imagined. A vast open hall of immeasurable size stretched out, with colossal pillars made of black metal that constantly dripped a blood-like red liquid. In the center of the hall, Master Taixuan stood atop a geomantic circle glowing dark purple.

  "Finally... Finally!" Taixuan’s laughter echoed, sounding mad and tainted by a dense demonic aura.

  Taixuan’s Soul-Guiding Bell now hovered over a small hole at the center of the circle. The bell had completely transformed; its surface was cracked, sprouting red tentacles that burrowed into the ground, sucking the residual energy from the swords buried beneath.

  "Just a bit more! Only one more trigger to awaken the Heavenly Demon Calamity Banner!" Taixuan roared, his eyes—now entirely black—staring at Zhi Xuan’s shadow as he landed at the edge of the hall.

  Zhi Xuan landed soundlessly, his divine body automatically radiating a protective aura that repelled the foul air. He looked at Taixuan as if watching a beggar struggling in his final moments.

  "You sacrificed nine of your companions for a key you cannot even hold, Taixuan," Zhi Xuan said, his voice clear and sharp, cutting through the waves of demonic aura enveloping the hall.

  Master Taixuan turned, his face now covered in pulsating black veins. "Gu Fengyan! You’re still alive? Good! Your powerful Divine Soul is the best fuel I could have dreamed of! With your essence, this Banner will be born with full power!"

  Master Taixuan stamped his foot, triggering the geomantic circle beneath him to explode in a purple radiance smelling of foul sulfur. The red tentacles from his bell shot out like lightning whips, targeting every pressure point on Zhi Xuan’s body at a speed that pierced through spatial barriers.

  Zhi Xuan did not flinch. His sapphire eyes glinted coldly, reflecting the madness on Master Taixuan’s face. When the tentacles were mere inches from his robe, Zhi Xuan moved his right hand in an incredibly slow circular motion, yet every inch of the movement created a heavy spatial boom.

  "Just because you have touched the remnants of a demonic aura, you think you have grasped the essence of calamity?" Zhi Xuan hissed.

  Instantly, a transparent shield formed from thousands of Sword Intent ripples appeared around him. The red tentacles slammed into the shield, but instead of piercing it, they were shredded into helpless fragments of energy. Zhi Xuan’s Sword Intent had reached a level where every particle of air around him acted as a blade capable of cutting spiritual essence.

  "Insolent!" Master Taixuan roared. He raised both hands to the sky, forcing the Soul-Guiding Bell to spin faster. "If these tentacles cannot touch you, then let the laws of this Sword Grave swallow you! Nine Deaths Formation: Soul Siphon!"

  The cracked bronze bell emitted a sickening chime—TING-KRAK—and immediately, the thousands of broken swords forming the floor began to vibrate wildly. From the gaps between the swords, black hands made of contaminated Sword Intent emerged, trying to grab Zhi Xuan’s feet and pull him into the thirsty red earth.

  "Heh, isn't this the shameless Master Taixuan?" Li Chen’s voice cut through with a sharp blue flash, his jade fan severing the black hands. "Don't think you can just walk out and claim the Heavenly Demon Calamity Banner."

  Li Chen landed gracefully beside Zhi Xuan, creating a tremor that knocked Master Taixuan back for a moment. "Taixuan, today I see your true face—no better than a beggar trying to scavenge the scraps of the ancient era."

  Master Taixuan sneered, a laugh that sounded like gravel grinding in a throat. "A beggar? Li Chen, you are merely an ant who happened to stand on the shoulders of a mid-stage expert! You do not understand the majesty I am building!"

  Master Taixuan stamped his foot again, this time harder, until the floor of millions of broken blades shrieked. The broken Soul-Guiding Bell suddenly vomited a thick blood-mist, enveloping Taixuan’s body and forming a revolting armor of flesh.

  "Majesty?" Zhi Xuan stepped forward, each step dampening the floor's vibrations as if he were taming an engraged earth dragon. "What you are building is merely a larger grave for yourself. You speak of power, yet you don't even realize that the bell above your head is drinking your own soul as the price to keep ringing."

  Master Taixuan’s pitch-black eyes widened. He looked at his bell, realizing the red tentacles he had aimed at Zhi Xuan were now crawling down through his own aura, sucking the life essence from his acupoints. However, madness had poisoned his mind too deeply.

  "Silence! As long as I obtain the Banner, this body is but a husk I can replace!" Taixuan roared. He threw a blood-sacrifice mudra, stabbing his own chest with fingers that had turned into black claws. "Blood for the Demon, Soul for the Calamity! Rise, Heavenly Demon Calamity Banner!"

  DUUUUMMM—!

  The hall shook with a tremor capable of collapsing the mental foundation of even a Soul Transformation cultivator. The small hole at the center of the geomantic circle exploded, vomiting a pillar of purple-black light that pierced the ceiling of the abyss. From within the pillar, a black wooden pole wrapped in tattered, dark red silk slowly rose. The cloth did not flutter because of wind, but because of the roiling hatred within it.

  Zhi Xuan felt a tremendous pull on his divine body. The Banner was like a magnet for every drop of blood and spiritual essence nearby. Li Chen was forced to seal his meridians, his face turning blue as he struggled to keep his soul from being sucked out of his frame.

  "Brother Gu... the Banner... it is eating the air!" Li Chen whispered with great difficulty.

  Zhi Xuan remained unmoved. He let his black-and-white robe be pulled by the Banner’s suction, but his feet remained fixed like an ancient mountain. His sapphire eyes were now entirely veiled by the sharp golden glow of the Heavenly Eye.

  He saw the threads of fate connected to the Banner—they were not just linked to Master Taixuan, but reached deep into the core of the Ancient Demon Land, as if the banner was the heart of the entire cursed region.

  "This Banner... it is not an artifact waiting for a master," Zhi Xuan hissed, his voice cutting through the roaring suction. "It is a predator waiting to be fed."

  Master Taixuan ignored Zhi Xuan’s warning. With an increasingly shrill laugh, he lunged forward, ignoring the fact that his skin was peeling away under the Banner’s pull. "Mine! Everything will kneel at my feet when I wave this banner!"

  Taixuan’s hand, now a horrific black claw, reached for the black wooden pole of the Heavenly Demon Calamity Banner. As soon as his fingers touched the cold wood, an unspeakable explosion of Demonic Intent swept the hall.

  CRAAAK!

  Taixuan’s Soul-Guiding Bell shattered into pieces, no longer able to withstand the massive backflow of energy. The red tentacles that had been attached to Taixuan suddenly reversed, wrapping around his neck and limbs, forcibly pulling the Master to merge with the Banner’s pole.

  "What?! No! Let go!" Taixuan screamed, his madness instantly replaced by pure terror. His face melted, his flesh seemingly liquefying as it was sucked into the pores of the Banner’s black wood.

  Zhi Xuan watched the gruesome scene coldly. "I told you, you were merely kindling. The Banner does not need a master; it needs nutrients to be truly reborn in this age."

  Li Chen, kneeling while clutching his chest, watched with wide eyes. "He... he is being eaten alive by his own ambition."

  The pillar of purple-black light grew larger, absorbing Master Taixuan’s entire body until only his trapped soul’s screams remained within the tattered dark red silk. The cloth now began to flutter wildly, emitting the hissing sound of thousands of bloodthirsty demonic serpents.

  "Brother Li, get as far away as possible!" Zhi Xuan commanded, his voice thundering amidst the essence storm.

  Zhi Xuan no longer held back his strength. The Heavenly Samsara Wheel within his mind spun clockwise at maximum speed, triggering an explosion of twilight-gray radiance from his body that rivaled the Banner’s purple pillar. His blackened left arm now glowed with silver patterns so bright they manifested the Slaughter Seal into a physical form hovering in the air.