The wind howled across the cliffs of the eastern range, echoing like an ancient scream buried deep within the bones of the mountain. Lu Xuan stood at the edge, his robes stained with smoke and blood, his breathing calm—too calm for someone who had just torn through an ambush sent by an emperor.
Behind him, the ground was scorched black, the remains of elite Zhao assassins strewn like discarded puppets. Their cultivation had been high—late Core Formation, one even a Nascent Soul cultivator—but they hadn't stood a chance.
Not after that body awakened.
Su Xue stood a dozen paces away, her sword half-drawn. Her chest rose and fell with the rhythm of restrained fury. "What have you become?"
Lu Xuan turned slowly. The whites of his eyes had returned, but the pulse beneath his skin still glowed faintly crimson. Steam rose from his shoulders, his skin repairing itself even now where blades had pierced moments before.
I became what I needed to be," he said simply. "To survive."
She shook her head. "This isn't survival. It's slaughter."
"The moment Zhao sent those men, it became war." He took a step toward her, his voice low. "Would you prefer I died like a dog under their blades?"
"I would've preferred you still had a soul when you lived through it!"
The Emperor's Hand
Hours earlier, Lu Xuan and the group had finally begun descending from the mountains, their mission against the Blood Lotus Sect finally complete. The inner temple had been sealed again with the Demoness's fragmented soul kept from fully awakening—for now.
But peace was not waiting at the foot of the path.
Three shadow-carved carriages had waited in the pass. No banners. No heralds. Only the chill of imperial intent.
The ambush was swift and merciless. Over a dozen elite imperial cultivators, clad in black jade armor, attacked without hesitation. No questions. No mercy.
They came for Lu Xuan.
The air cracked as talismans burned into dust, flames streaking across the mountain path like chains of lightning.
Dozens of imperial assassins surged forward with practiced formation. Clad in black jade armor and scarlet masks, they wielded twin sabers etched with spirit-devouring runes. The lead commander, Elder Yin, a Nascent Soul realm cultivator, raised his crimson staff and shouted—
"Kill Lu Xuan. No prisoners!"
Lu Xuan narrowed his eyes. "He sent you himself?"
Yin grinned. "The Emperor knows when to snuff out a weed before it becomes a wildfire."
Before another word could pass, four assassins blinked into motion—speed techniques from the northern plains. Their blades shimmered with cursed qi as they struck in unison toward Lu Xuan's neck, back, and ribs.
But Lu Xuan didn't move.
He stood there, calm, until the first blade touched his skin.
A dull clang rang out. Steel shattered.
The assassin stared in horror as cracks spidered up his weapon. "What…?"
Lu Xuan's hand snapped forward, seizing the man's wrist—and crushed it in one effortless squeeze. He grabbed the assassin's body mid-scream and hurled him into the others, scattering them like dolls.
Still, more came.
Twelve, twenty… thirty.
They came like a tide. Spells ignited. Blades danced. The earth trembled beneath coordinated footwork and overlapping spirit formations.
And Lu Xuan—still unarmed—walked forward.
A great talisman formation was cast over him, conjured by three late Core Formation cultivators working in tandem. The ground surged with chains of light, designed to bind even demons.
"Seal!"
The formation snapped shut. Lu Xuan stood at its center, surrounded by binding light and storm sigils.
Then… he grinned.
A cracking sound echoed. The seals shattered like glass. The earth beneath him exploded upward as a crimson wave of demonic qi burst from his dantian.
It was as if the mountain exhaled darkness.
The Awakening
Far above, storm clouds spun unnaturally, pulled into a vortex of black and crimson. Su Xue, who had sensed the battle too late, arrived just in time to witness it.
The seal... he broke it, she realized, her heart sinking.
Lu Xuan roared—no, the thing within him did.
His bones glowed from beneath his skin. His spine cracked, stretching as if reforging itself. Blood boiled in the air around him as his flesh rejected damage entirely.
His hair darkened to pitch, eyes rimmed with a faint red ring.
His hair darkened to pitch, eyes rimmed with a faint red ring.
The First Level of the Immortal Demon God Body had awakened.
All around him, the Zhao assassins faltered. One tried to cast a soul-breaking technique—but the second he activated it, Lu Xuan turned and punched.
The air rippled. The man was gone.
Not exploded. Not crushed. Gone. As if the very concept of him had been denied.
A Core Formation cultivator threw a spear enhanced with seven layers of enchantment. It shattered against Lu Xuan's chest, doing less damage than a breeze.
Another tried a flame array. Useless.
A Nascent Soul cultivator, second in command, summoned an obsidian wyvern to attack from above.
Lu Xuan leaped skyward and met the beast mid-air with a fist that broke the sound barrier. The wyvern screamed once before its body ruptured from within—its core shattered before impact.
Lu Xuan landed in a crouch, smoke coiling from his knuckles. Blood slicked his arms, but none of it his own.
Elder Yin Enters
The battlefield cleared quickly—only five remained.
Elder Yin raised his staff, and the ground opened as a three-headed blood flame hydra emerged, formed from condensed soul fire and bone fragments. His aura expanded—Early Nascent Soul, peak control.
"You're strong," Yin said. "But you're not immortal."
Lu Xuan said nothing. His aura surged.
Then he ran.
The collision sent shockwaves across the ridge. The hydra lashed out, three flaming maws biting and whipping—but Lu Xuan dodged them all, moving like smoke and iron. He leaped onto the hydra's spine and ran across it, punching downward.
One head exploded.
Elder Yin roared. "YOU—!"
Before the second command finished, Lu Xuan was on him.
Their fists clashed—demonic flesh against imperial technique.
Yin's ribs shattered.
The older man spat blood and retaliated, hurling chains made of soul flame. They coiled around Lu Xuan's chest, neck, and arms.
This time, they bit deep.
Lu Xuan staggered—but only for a second. The blood on his skin pulsed, glowing with unholy crimson light.
The First Level adapted.
The chains melted off.
He delivered a final blow—a palm strike so forceful that it bent the trees around them backward. Yin was blasted through a cliff wall, leaving a crater in the shape of his body.
He didn't rise again.
Aftermath
The battle was over in minutes. But the damage lingered. Not just in corpses—but in eyes.
Su Xue stepped through the dust, her sword drawn but unused. "You didn't spare a single one."
"They were sent to kill me," Lu Xuan replied.
"They had names. Lives. A reason to follow the Emperor."
"And I had a reason to live."
She took a slow breath. "You're not him anymore. The boy who saved Mei. The man who refused to kill an injured foe…"
His voice dropped. "He died when the Emperor signed the order."
Later, as campfires crackled under a moonless sky, Lu Xuan sat apart from the others, unmoving. Mei, the child from Green Lantern Village, approached him, clutching a flower she had pressed days ago.
She stared up at him. "Does it hurt?"
He blinked. "What?"
"The thing inside you."
He looked down at her small hands. "Yes," he admitted. "It always has."
She placed the flower beside him and left.
Lu Xuan didn't move. He only looked at the fading petals—one stained faintly red. The same flower she'd given him when he protected her during the Blood Lotus march.
Lu Xuan turned, the red glow fading slightly, but his presence no less terrifying.
The First Level of the Immortal Demon God Body had not just awakened—it had left a scar on the world.
He wasn't just a target now.
He was a calamity.
And somewhere, deep in the capital, Emperor Zhao received news of the failed execution. His response was simple:
"Then the war begins."
End of Chapter 34