The father’s face turned deathly pale the moment he saw his children crowding around the tall figure in the black-and-white robe, who radiated an extraordinary aura. As a resident of the Holy City, he knew all too well that the man before him was no ordinary practitioner; the disheveled dark purple hair and those sapphire eyes were far too striking to be taken lightly.

  "Lord Immortal! Please forgive the insolence of our children!" The man immediately knelt, pulling Yi'er behind his back with trembling hands. "They are just children who do not understand etiquette. Please do not punish them for their forward tongues!"

  The woman beside him prostrated as well, her body shaking violently. In the world of cultivators, the lives of commoners were often treated like weeds that could be cut down at any moment if they offended the whims of a law-bearer.

  Zhi Xuan rose slowly, keeping his aura calm so as not to pressure the parents. "Stand up. Your children have done nothing wrong. On the contrary, they are the ones who provided 'medicine' for my weary soul."

  Yi'er broke free from his father’s grip and scurried forward, showing his palms. "Father! Look! This Uncle gave us pretty yellow coins! He said it’s to buy all the sweets!"

  The father trembled as he saw three pure gold coins in his son’s hand. His eyes welled with tears. For him, a single gold coin was equivalent to three whole years of sales. With this gold, he could do more than just buy sweets; he could repair his leaking roof, buy medicine for his sick mother, and secure the future of his children.

  "My Lord... this... this is too much," the father whispered hoarsely, gazing at Zhi Xuan with deep gratitude and disbelief. "We are just simple people selling coarse wheat bread. We are not worthy of such charity."

  Zhi Xuan looked toward their humble shop, where the scent of yeast and the warmth of the furnace were beginning to waft through the air. That place was a living testament to the life he promised to protect under the shroud of his night.

  "Use it to preserve their smiles," Zhi Xuan said flatly but firmly. "Those coins mean nothing compared to the sincere prayers your children blew into my palms yesterday. In my eyes, your wheat bread is far more valuable than the pills of immortality fought over on that mountain."

  Zhi Xuan then turned, walking away and leaving the small family frozen in emotion. His robe fluttered gently, sweeping the dust of the Holy City's streets.

  "Uncle! Don't forget your promise!" Yi'er shouted, waving his small hand high. "Come back if you want to eat warm wheat bread!"

  Zhi Xuan did not turn back, but his left hand, tied with the red ribbon, rose slightly into the air as an answer. He walked toward the boundary gates of the Holy City, leaving behind the mortal peace he had just tasted.

  "Zhi Xuan," Ruo Xianxue spoke again, her tone calmer this time. "The stench of the Soul-Devouring Demon Sect has already begun to spread here. They think you will settle in the Sacred Pavilion as the Fairy’s watchdog."

  "They are gravely mistaken," Zhi Xuan hissed, and instantly the warm aura of dawn vanished, replaced by an absolute coldness that split the morning air. "I have rewoven my Dao Heart. They want the Heavenly Sword? That is a grand challenge that must be annihilated before I begin my search for the Dao."

  "And this scent... it is the Eternal Killing Temple," Zhi Xuan muttered as he faded into a shadow, creeping through the air. "That assassination organization seems to have roots even here in the sacred Yao Gu. Meeting old friends—naturally, we must greet them properly."

  Zhi Xuan’s body shot forward like ink spilled across the canvas of dawn, merging with the lengthening shadows of the Holy City's buildings. Each time his feet touched a roof or a branch, he left only a faint vibration that was immediately swallowed by the morning wind.

  "Eternal Killing Temple..." Zhi Xuan whispered in his mind, his eyes narrowing sharply. "The fishy stench of their daggers is still the same, even after hundreds of years of not smelling it."

  On the outskirts of the Holy City, where a dense forest of black bamboo met a steep cliff, a thick aura of death began to creep like poisonous mist. The air there was still, as if time had been forced to a halt by concentrated killing intent.

  Zhi Xuan landed on the tip of a sharply bent black bamboo stalk. He stood tall, letting his robe flutter while his sapphire eyes scanned the darkness behind the thick foliage.

  "Come out," Zhi Xuan’s voice rang cold, cutting through the silence of the forest like the clinking of metal. "The snakes of the Eternal Killing Temple were never good at hiding the rancid smell behind their backs."

  Instantly, from behind the shadows of the bamboo stalks, six figures appeared simultaneously. They wore dark grey robes that seemed capable of absorbing sunlight. Their faces were covered by expressionless transparent hoods, leaving only narrow slits for eyes that radiated coldness and a murderous intent unto death.

  "Gu Fengyan... or should we call you Zhi Xuan?" One of them, standing in the center with the strongest aura—a mid-stage Soul Transformation practitioner—stepped forward. "In Xing Luo, you had the protection of the Ancient Zhu Clan. But here in Yao Gu, no Ancient Clan will know of your death today."

  Zhi Xuan smirked thinly, an expression that carried not a shred of warmth. "Oh? It seems you won't stop until you have my head. Even after hundreds of years, someone continues to pay a high price for my scalp, eh?"

  "This Zhi is very flattered," Zhi Xuan continued, his fingers slowly stroking the hilt of the Heavenly Sword on his back. "However, sending six mid-stage Soul Transformation rats to face someone who just emerged from the refinement cauldron of the late-stage Soul Transformation... isn't that an insult to the reputation of your Eternal Killing Temple?"

  "Insolent!" The figure in the center hissed, his voice like sand rubbing against a tombstone. "You may have broken through, but our Six-Directional Killing Technique can seal even a Weaver Transformation practitioner! In this Yao Gu, you are but a rootless wanderer!"

  ZRRINGG—!

  Without further warning, the six figures blurred like ghost shadows. They moved in perfect formation, locking every blind spot and escape route. The air in the black bamboo forest was suddenly filled with ultra-thin black silk threads sharper than razors. Surrounding trees cracked and shattered, the ground shook with thuds, yet everything was muffled by a formation that acted as a vacuum without energy fluctuations.

  Zhi Xuan did not budge from the bent bamboo tip. His sapphire eyes flashed as the black silk threads began to tighten, creating a net of death capable of mincing flesh into fine slivers. He felt the pressure of the formation; a spatial isolation specifically designed to dampen spiritual energy shocks so they wouldn't be detected by the Holy City guards in the distance.

  "Six Directions without Gaps, Six Souls to the Grave," Zhi Xuan murmured lowly.

  Suddenly, the Heavenly Sword on his back let out a sharp ring. Without being drawn from its scabbard, a wave of pitch-black energy exploded from Zhi Xuan’s body, slamming into the silk threads until they vibrated violently. However, the assassins of the Eternal Killing Temple were not arrogant clan practitioners who wavered easily. As soon as their threads were threatened, two figures from the flanks lunged into the danger zone, disregarding their own lives.

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  "For the Temple! For Eternity!" one of the assassins screamed in a horrific, raspy voice.

  His body suddenly bloated, the veins in his face turning black and bursting, emitting an unstable blood-red aura. Zhi Xuan narrowed his eyes. The assassin’s Divine Wheel was being forced beyond its limits—they intended to self-detonate at the first second of physical contact.

  BOOOM!

  The explosion of spiritual essence from a mid-stage Soul Transformation practitioner was equivalent to the impact of a small meteor. The black bamboo forest was instantly leveled within a ten-fathom radius. The shockwave contained corrosive poison capable of melting essence shields.

  Zhi Xuan shot out from the cloud of smoke, his robe slightly torn, but his face remained calm. However, before he could set foot on the ground, the second assassin was already right beneath him, gripping Zhi Xuan’s leg with hands already burning with the fires of self-sacrifice.

  "You won't escape, Devil!"

  Duar! A second explosion occurred, closer and more lethal. The Eternal Killing Temple did not seek victory through martial arts; they were a murderous will that traded lives for certainty. For them, one highly valuable target life was worth ten, even a hundred of their agents' lives.

  "They are insane!" Ruo Xianxue hissed within his soul. "They are using the Soul-Binding Detonation technique. If you are touched, your soul will be locked into their explosion!"

  Zhi Xuan moved his left hand, the red ribbon from Yi'er fluttering amidst the fire of the explosion. "If you wish to burn yourselves, then I shall provide a larger furnace."

  the Heavenly Trifold Reincarnation Cauldron suddenly appeared above Zhi Xuan's head, radiating an ancient bronze glow that carried the weight of a thousand mountains. The pressure from the cauldron instantly crushed the four remaining assassins until they were buried in the dirt.

  However, what made Zhi Xuan pause for a moment was their blind loyalty. Even though their bones were crushed under the cauldron's pressure, the four assassins simultaneously plunged their daggers into their own hearts.

  "Blood as an offering, Soul as the summoner... Heaven-Devouring Seal!"

  The blood pouring from the four did not fall to the earth; instead, it hovered in the air, forming ancient characters of deep blood-red. The characters then exploded into thousands of curse needles targeting every one of Zhi Xuan's meridian points. This was a coordinated mass suicide attack—a ritual designed to bring down an opponent with a higher cultivation base by draining the target's luck and life essence.

  Zhi Xuan pulled the Heavenly Sword in one swift jerk. The black blade emitted an aura of death so pure that the blood needles froze in the air before crumbling into ash.

  "Eternal Killing Temple... you still use these disgusting methods," Zhi Xuan said, his voice containing suppressed thunder.

  He leapt into the center of the fading blood formation. With one swing of the Heavenly Sword, he cleaved the space before him. A flash of black light shot out, severing the final life-threads of the assassins who were already dying from their failed detonations.

  However, just as the last assassin was about to draw his final breath, a cold, low laugh echoed from behind the remaining smoke. "Interesting... very interesting. Your late-stage Soul Transformation is truly pure, Gu Fengyan. But can you survive if this entire forest is an explosion I have already prepared?"

  An old man in simple servant's clothes—yet possessing a gaze that could pierce the soul—emerged from behind a still-standing bamboo tree. In his hand, he held an ancient talisman that was already half-burnt.

  "I am the Seventh Shadow Elder," the man said. "And my mission is not to capture you alive. My mission is to ensure you never leave Yao Gu."

  Without waiting for an answer, the old man crushed the talisman in his hand. Instantly, every root of the black bamboo in the forest glowed red. Thousands of years of accumulated negative energy were forcibly pulled to explode together at a single point: right beneath Zhi Xuan’s feet. Zhi Xuan felt the ground beneath him soften, turning into a giant mouth ready to swallow him into the void of the explosion.

  "I have passed through the Nine Solitudes," Zhi Xuan whispered, his sapphire eyes now radiating a light that surpassed human limits. "Your temple... will not be enough to contain my night."

  He thrust the Heavenly Sword into the ground, letting the essence from the Ocean of Essence in his soul overflow. "Four Seasons: The Winter Stillness that Freezes Reincarnation!"

  A wave of deep purple ice spread with impossible speed, freezing every inch of soil, every bamboo root, and even the explosion that was just about to erupt. Time seemed forced to stop by the coldness brought by Zhi Xuan. The old man from the Killing Temple widened his eyes, his body freezing in an eternal pose of terror before finally shattering into fine ice shards blown away by the morning wind.

  Zhi Xuan stood in the center of the forest that had now turned into a field of ice crystals. He panted for a moment, yet his back remained straight. "Next..." Zhi Xuan murmured as he swept his sword toward his sea of consciousness. "The Soul-Devouring Demon Sect that dares to set foot in this western region."

  Zhi Xuan’s footsteps, which had originally carried the elegance of a man who had just tasted the sweetness of dawn, now turned into a deadly stride that froze every inch of ground he stepped on. The black bamboo forest that had become a graveyard of ice crystals slowly faded behind him as he sped toward the border.

  "Soul-Devouring Demon Sect," Zhi Xuan hissed, his voice carrying the resonance of the Ocean of Essence that was now churning with murderous intent. "You always have a sharp nose for treasure, but you are blind when it comes to seeing the abyss of death."

  In a rugged valley, the sky that should have been bright with morning sunlight was instead covered by swirling black clouds. Those clouds were not made of water vapor, but a collection of thousands of wailing souls, forcibly pulled from their bodies and gathered into a giant Soul-Devouring Banner planted in the middle of the valley.

  Three figures dressed in human-skin robes stood around the banner. On their foreheads were engraved skull seals pulsing with a disgusting emerald-green light. They were the Right Protectors of the Soul-Devouring Demon Sect, practitioners who had surpassed human limits by consuming the souls of fellow cultivators.

  "Hahaha! Look at this banner!" one of them, who had a raspy voice like rusting metal, laughed with glee. "With the blood of the small clan practitioners in this region, our Soul-Devouring Banner has nearly reached the level of an Immortal Artifact. If we manage to capture Zhi Xuan and suck out his soul that has passed through the Nine Solitudes, our Sect will lead all of Yao Gu!"

  "Do not underestimate that Southern Devil, Mo Yan," another replied, his sunken eyes radiating caution. "The Eternal Killing Temple just lost their assassins in the blink of an eye. News brought by spiritual crows says that Zhi Xuan now possesses nonsensical power."

  "Power? Before this Ten-Thousand Ghost Heaven-Swallowing Formation, even a Weaver Transformation practitioner would lose their sanity!" Mo Yan struck his bone staff against the ground.

  Suddenly, the temperature in the valley plummeted. The swirling soul clouds in the sky instantly froze and fell like shards of shattered black glass. From a frost mist that appeared out of nowhere, the figure of Zhi Xuan walked out with a terrifying calmness.

  "Lead Yao Gu?" Zhi Xuan spoke, each word carrying the weight of the Ocean of Essence that pressured the valley. "You won't even be able to lead yourselves to the afterlife."

  "Zhi Xuan!" Mo Yan screamed, his pale face filled with madness. "How dare you come alone to surrender your life! Activate the formation! Swallow him!"

  The three practitioners simultaneously spat essence blood toward the Soul-Devouring Banner. Instantly, millions of pale green ghost hands emerged from the ground, trying to grab Zhi Xuan’s legs and robe. The screams of thousands of tormented souls filled the air, a mental attack designed to crush the Dao Heart of anyone who heard it.

  However, Zhi Xuan only snorted coldly. His Dao Heart, recently rewoven by the Heaven Heart Silk Leaf technique and strengthened by his union with Ye Xishui, was now as vast as the universe. To him, the wailing was no more than the sound of raindrops on a stone mountain.

  "Little rats," Zhi Xuan hissed menacingly, waving his hand to grip the Ruthless Heavenly Banner. "Northern Yama, give them a taste of Nirvana itself."

  The air in the valley, previously rowdy with ghostly screams, instantly froze. The Ruthless Heavenly Banner gripped by Zhi Xuan vibrated violently, emitting a grey aura so thick it was capable of swallowing the emerald-green light of the enemy formation.

  "You want to see what a true devil looks like?" Zhi Xuan’s voice sounded flat, yet contained an authority capable of collapsing the mental foundations of the three Demon Protectors.

  Zhi Xuan flicked the Ruthless Heavenly Banner into the air. The grey silk lengthened, twisting like the tongue of a hungry ancient dragon. From within the vortex of darkness spewed by the banner, a shadow shot out with a speed surpassing the naked eye.

  DUAARRR!

  The ground in the center of the valley exploded as the figure landed. Pitch-black smoke rolled out, hiding its form for a moment before finally being swept away by a lethal chill. Standing there was Northern Yama, the King of Nirvana Puppets.

  His muscular body was encased in jet-black armor that merged with skin as hard as steel. His flat, expressionless face radiated pure emptiness, yet his pair of deep grey eyes glowed with slowly rotating Nirvana runes. The aura he emitted was no longer mere killing intent, but Nirvana Death—a deathly chill that rejected all forms of life and reincarnation.

  "W-what is that?!" Mo Yan shrieked, his bone staff shaking violently. "That is no ordinary living corpse! Why does my soul feel as if it's being sucked out just by looking at its eyes?!"

  "Kill that thing! Fast!" roared another Demon Protector.

  The millions of pale green ghost hands that were originally targeting Zhi Xuan now turned to swarm Northern Yama. Thousands of tormented soul screams launched like black arrows, attempting to tear apart the King Puppet's frame.