The banners of the Celestial Dawn Sect fluttered in the high mountain wind as disciples gathered in droves on the arena steps. The Annual Grand Competition had arrived, a sacred tradition meant to celebrate youth, skill, and the hopes of the next generation.
But for Lu Xuan, it was little more than a performance.
He stood at the edge of the platform, robes untouched by dust, his presence quiet but commanding. His cultivation had reached Nascent Soul Realm, and yet he still looked no older than eighteen — an enigma, a storm barely leashed in human form.
His reputation preceded him now. Whispers trailed him like shadows.
"He's too young..."
"They say he can't die."
"A demon wearing the face of a mortal."
He didn't care.
Not anymore.
The Hollow Fight
The first challenger was a Core Formation cultivator, one of the elite inner disciples from the North Branch. Qi swords, flame talismans, and spirit beasts — all thrown at Lu Xuan with practiced fury.
Lu Xuan deflected them with a single wave of his hand.
The air itself seemed to reject the enemy's attack, as if recognizing Lu Xuan as its rightful ruler.
The second match ended before it began. The opponent fainted before stepping onto the platform, caught in the pressure of Lu Xuan's presence.
By the third bout, the elders intervened.
"There is no need for further trials," Elder Yan said flatly. "Lu Xuan qualifies."
Yet he didn't leave the stage. He stood there, still, unmoving, eyes distant.
And then came a voice — cool, sharp, familiar.
"You're not even pretending anymore."
Su Xue.
She stood beside the elders, arms folded across her chest, eyes brimming with frost. Her cultivation had surged recently — she now stood at Nascent Soul Realm, though she had revealed it to no one except the inner council.
Lu Xuan's gaze met hers. Cold. Impassive.
"Was I supposed to pretend?" he asked.
"You used to fight for survival. Now you fight for nothing. You're slipping," she said, voice cutting. "Or maybe you were always this."
"You used to fight for survival. Now you fight for nothing. You're slipping," she said, voice cutting. "Or maybe you were always this."
A flicker passed across Lu Xuan's eyes — a twitch in his jaw, a shadow on his soul. Then it vanished.
"I don't need your approval."
"You're not getting it," she said, turning her back.
She didn't see his fist clench.
She didn't see the dark veins ripple beneath his sleeve.
The Sect Master's Secret Chamber
Later that night, the elder council convened within the inner sanctum beneath the Jade Pagoda.
Sect Master Bai Yujing, her silver robes aglow with protective sigils, sat in silence. Her gaze passed across the faces of the assembled elders — Elder Shi Qiran, Elder Mo Jie, and others too ancient to be remembered by name.
"He has broken through the Nascent Soul Realm at less than twenty," she said. "His body... it is no longer mortal."
Shi Qiran, his beard streaked with starlight, remained silent. But his eyes held wariness.
"The body," said Elder Mo Jie slowly, "is not human. It is the Immortal Demongod Body, long thought extinct."
"Then it's true," Bai Yujing whispered. "We are housing a god... or a catastrophe."
No one spoke for a long time.
The Immortal Demongod Body
Deep within the sect's western cave, Lu Xuan stood alone before a sealed wall of ancient jade. The glowing script etched across the barrier pulsed faintly with his breath.
He had come here alone, drawn by something... or someone.
Inside him, the first level of the Immortal Demongod Body had fully awakened upon his entry into the Nascent Soul Realm. His bones were denser than metal, his soul immune to destruction, his flesh restored even when broken.
And more than anything, his strength had multiplied tenfold.
"Only one who has tasted death and denied it may awaken the first gate," echoed a voice from his past — his past life.
He looked down at his palm. The skin flickered with black runes for just a moment.
He closed his hand tightly.
"If this is only the first level... what comes next?"
The memory of the ancient Demoness surfaced again — laughing behind a veil of ash and blood. A goddess of ruin. A lover? A killer?
He didn't know.
The Ancient Snake's Warning
That night, he dreamed.
Or perhaps he remembered.
The Ancient Snake, slithering through a blood-drenched battlefield beneath Green Lantern Village. Its eyes were ancient, golden, and mournful.
"You awaken again, my lord... too early," it hissed. "They will try to chain you again. As they always have."
"What am I?" Lu Xuan asked in the dream.
"You are the one who cannot die," said the snake. "The one who cannot be judged."
"Then why do I feel so hollow?"
"Because they stole your soul and scattered it. Because even gods can be broken."
The Kidnappers Come
Two days after the competition, while Lu Xuan sat in meditation near the eastern cliffs, he was ambushed.
Clad in black, their robes bore no insignia — but he recognized them instantly: Zhao Imperial Shadow Guards.
He didn't flinch. He didn't even stand.
"Lu Xuan," said the captain, "you are ordered to appear before His Majesty, Emperor Zhao."
"I decline."
"We were not asking."
They struck.
Fast. Precise. Each cultivator was Peak Core Formation, one perhaps at Early Nascent Soul. Deadly by any standard.
But they weren't fighting any standard man.
Lu Xuan stood calmly.
He didn't draw a blade. He didn't need to.
He blinked — and two of them fell, screaming, their essence ripped from their cores.
The last one saw his face and trembled.
"W-what... are you...?"
Lu Xuan's eyes glowed faintly black.
"The end of your story."
To Be Continued...