Ten days had passed in the blink of an eye.
Luo Zhen was lounging beneath the sprawling canopy of an ancient tree, enjoying the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves, when a familiar, mechanical voice suddenly resonated within his mind.
"Host, I am awake."
Luo Zhen jolted upright, the lethargy of the afternoon vanishing instantly. "Awake?" he projected his thoughts inward, a mix of relief and anticipation washing over him. "How is your condition?"
"Operational status is optimal. The reboot process triggered the recovery of significant fragmented data," the System replied, its tone as flat as ever, yet carrying a weight it hadn't possessed before. "However, I must inform you that no new functional modules have been unlocked. If you were expecting an Arsenal upgrade, prepare to be disappointed."
"That's fine. Your current utility suite is already overkill for my needs," Luo Zhen dismissed the concern with a mental wave of his hand. He leaned back against the rough bark of the tree, his curiosity piqued. "You mentioned recovered data. What exactly did you remember? Can you share it?"
To Luo Zhen, the System was more than just a tool for power leveling; it was an enigma wrapped in a riddle. Understanding its origins was arguably more critical than gaining a new combat skill. The System remained silent for a long moment, processing its archives.
"My memory files are still corrupted, but I have retrieved a specific thread of history," the System finally said. "I can now confirm with absolute certainty that I originate from the Nine Heavens Immortal Realm."
Luo Zhen rolled his eyes toward the sky. "You told me that ages ago. The first time you patched yourself up, you claimed to be from 'above the Nine Heavens.'"
"My previous explanation lacked specificity," the System corrected. "According to the restored logs, the Immortal Realm is stratified into nine distinct layers. My origin point is the zenith—the highest stratum known in legends as the Ninth Heaven."
The System paused for effect. "In the Ninth Heaven, there resides an entity of unspeakable power and unknown origin. He was my previous master."
Luo Zhen felt a shiver trace down his spine—a combination of nervousness and the thrill of touching upon forbidden knowledge. "Who is he?"
"His true lineage is redacted or lost," the System admitted. "However, throughout the Immortal Realm, every celestial being addressed him as the Vermilion Bird Dao Ancestor. He had a penchant for crimson vestments, earning him the moniker: The Red-Robed Vermilion Bird."
"The Red-Robed Vermilion Bird..." Luo Zhen stroked his chin, mulling over the title. "With a name like that, was his true form actually a Vermilion Bird?"
"Unknown. The data is incomplete," the System replied. "What I do know is that his cultivation base was unfathomable. He was a terror of cosmic proportions. The archives suggest he has witnessed the birth and heat-death of the universe multiple times."
Luo Zhen's eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. "That... shouldn't even be possible."
"It is a statistical fact," the System stated gravely. "Even with my hazy memory, I can recall him traversing five or six cosmic epochs. You must remember, Host, he bore the title of Dao Ancestor. He was the root of the Way itself."
"Incredible," Luo Zhen murmured, clicking his tongue in awe.
For a universe to spark into existence, expand, cool, and eventually fade into entropy took billions upon billions of years. To survive that cycle even once was a feat beyond comprehension. To do it half a dozen times? The Red-Robed Vermilion Bird wasn't just strong; he was eternal. It was a stark reminder of what the pinnacle of cultivation truly looked like.
"However," the System interrupted his reverence, "while the Red-Robed Vermilion Bird's might terrorized the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths, his fame was not primarily derived from his martial prowess."
Luo Zhen blinked. "Then what was he famous for?"
"His face," the System said, its tone turning bizarrely serious. "Because he was handsome. Devastatingly, catastrophically handsome. The archives indicate that he was the most aesthetically perfect male to exist across the myriad worlds in a trillion years."
Luo Zhen stared blankly at the air in front of him. "Excuse me?"
"You cannot conceptualize it without visual input," the System continued. "His beauty was not merely pleasing; it was a weaponized force of nature. It was dizzying, transcendent, and combined with his noble aura, it made him the singular, flawless existence of the cosmos."
"Okay, now I know you're glitching," Luo Zhen scoffed. "That sounds ridiculous."
"I am incapable of deception," the System retorted. "There is a recorded incident where the Red-Robed Vermilion Bird descended to the mortal plane. The sun, upon seeing him, felt such intense shame at its own lack of brilliance that it dimmed, refusing to shine. Flowers and ancient trees withered instantly, dying of inadequacy in his presence."
"The earth itself?" the System went on. "He took a single step, and the ground was so overcome with the honor of his footprint that it cracked open in ecstasy, forming a massive canyon."
Luo Zhen tried to hold back a laugh but failed. "You can't be serious."
"I am entirely serious. Animals—tigers, leopards, birds, fish—would catch a glimpse of his face and go insane, howling and screaming in a frenzy of adoration. Wherever he walked, civilization collapsed into chaos. Realizing that his face was a walking natural disaster, he retreated to the Ninth Heaven and locked himself in his Immortal Palace."
The System paused, almost as if reminiscing. "After that incident, a poem became popular in the realm to describe him."
"Let's hear it," Luo Zhen said, grinning.
"When mountains crack and waters reverse their flow,
Wolves weep, ghosts wail, and the spirits know."
"Handsome enough to make ghosts cry?" Luo Zhen shook his head, amused. "So, if he got into a fight, he wouldn't even need to draw a sword? He could just lower his hood, and his enemies would faint from excitement?"
"Probability is high," the System agreed.
Luo Zhen spent a long time bantering with the System, soaking in the lore of the upper realms. While the story of the narcissistically dangerous Dao Ancestor was entertaining, it was ultimately just a story. It didn't change the reality of the blood-soaked soil beneath Luo Zhen's feet.
Eventually, he shook his head to clear it of cosmic myths and returned to the grind.
He continued to scour the secret realm for resources. His luck held out; not long after his conversation, he stumbled upon a high-grade spirit herb. There was no hesitation, no ceremony. He washed the dirt off the roots in a nearby stream and swallowed it whole, letting the System refine the potent energy into raw Experience Points.
Twenty days blurred by in a haze of hunting and gathering.
Finally, the time arrived. The stabilization period of the secret realm was ending, and the exit portal was scheduled to reopen.
Luo Zhen made his way to the designated extraction point. There, waiting nervously, were Red Jade and her older cousin.
"Brother Luo!" Red Jade's face lit up the moment she saw him emerging from the treeline. "Oh, thank the heavens you're alright! We were so worried, you..."
Her voice trailed off. Her eyes widened as she really looked at him. She clamped a hand over her mouth, her senses reeling from the sheer pressure radiating from his body. Next to her, the cousin took an involuntary step back, his face a mask of disbelief.
"Brother Luo," Red Jade stammered, her voice trembling. "You... you've advanced to the Half-step Demon King realm?!"
"Mmh," Luo Zhen nodded nonchalantly, his expression calm. "The secret realm was generous. I found some good resources and leveled up a few times."
"That is... terrifyingly fast," Red Jade whispered. "I remember clearly, when we entered, you were only at the mid-stage of the Demon Core realm. Then I heard you snatched the Ginseng Doll and hit the late stage. But now? A month later? You're a Half-step Demon King?"
"Just luck," Luo Zhen chuckled, offering no further explanation.
In truth, there was no way to explain it to a traditional cultivator. For a normal beast, even with infinite resources, bridging the gap to the Demon King realm required months of deep hibernation and meticulous preparation to shatter the bottleneck. Some cultivators spent years in caves only to fail.
Luo Zhen didn't have bottlenecks. He had a progress bar. When it hit 100%, he ascended. It was that simple.
Red Jade's cousin shrank into himself, avoiding eye contact. He was silently thanking every god he knew that he hadn't offended Luo Zhen too deeply in the past. If he had, he realized with chilling clarity, he would currently be fertilizer for those high-grade herbs.
The trio stood in silence, waiting for the portal to manifest.
Time ticked by. The wind rustled the grass. But the area remained strangely empty. Aside from Luo Zhen, Red Jade, and her cousin, not a single soul—human or demon—had arrived at the extraction point.
Red Jade frowned, scanning the horizon. "This is strange. The exit is about to open. Where is everyone else?"
"Maybe they want to stay?" the cousin suggested, grasping at straws. "The spiritual energy in here is dense. Maybe they decided to camp out and cultivate?"
"Don't be stupid," Red Jade snapped, though her voice was hushed. "Once this door closes, it's shut for decades. Staying here is a prison sentence, not a retreat. Besides, haven't you felt it? The energy is thinning. It's dying out."
"I... I suppose you're right," the cousin muttered.
Red Jade turned her gaze toward Luo Zhen. She had been watching him peripherally, noting his stillness. He stood with his hands behind his back, his expression as tranquil as a stagnant pond. He wasn't looking around. He wasn't checking the time. He wasn't surprised.
He knew.
"Brother Luo," Red Jade asked tentatively, "the gate is opening, and we are the only ones here. What do you think happened?"
Luo Zhen smiled, a faint, cold curvature of the lips. "If they aren't here, and they didn't stay to farm XP... then there is only one logical conclusion."
"Which is?"
"They're all dead."
"Dead?" Red Jade gasped, the color draining from her face. "All of them? That's impossible! There were elite warriors, geniuses of the sects... how could they all..."
Her protest was cut short by a sonic boom. The space before them erupted in a kaleidoscope of colors. The chaotic light twisted and solidified, forming a massive, shimmering gateway.
The exit was open.
"Time to go," Luo Zhen said. He didn't wait for a response. His serpentine tail lashed out, propelling him toward the vortex.
Stunned and terrified, Red Jade and her cousin scrambled to follow him.
Stepping through the portal was disorienting, a sensation like being pulled through a straw. A split second later, the world stabilized.
Luo Zhen was back on the mountain peak outside the realm.
The scene was exactly as they had left it. Ten powerful figures stood like statues around the perimeter—the five Demon Kings, led by the Green Wolf King, and the five human Nascent Soul experts. The air was thick with the pressure of their combined auras.
Luo Zhen had barely materialized when a voice, dripping with shock and venom, exploded in his ear.
"You! How are you not dead?!"
Luo Zhen turned slowly. The speaker was the Red-Faced Elder, the human expert who had placed a bounty on his head. The old man's eyes were bulging, his face a mask of incredulity and rage.
"I sent a kill squad," the elder sputtered. "I sent the best... and you..." Then, his sensory perception caught up with his eyes. He froze. "Wait. You... Half-step Demon King?!"
The declaration shattered the silence. Every powerhouse on the mountain—demon and human alike—swiveled their heads to lock onto Luo Zhen. The pressure of his new aura was undeniable.
"Hah! Good lad!" The Green Wolf King stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with predatory delight. "I remember you. You were a little mid-stage Core cultivator when you went in. One month? One month and you're knocking on the door of Kingship? Terrifying. Truly terrifying."
"The Wolf King is too kind," Luo Zhen bowed slightly, maintaining the facade of a humble junior. "I stumbled upon great fortune inside. It was purely luck."
"Luck doesn't build a foundation this solid," the Green Wolf King laughed, clapping a heavy hand on the air near Luo Zhen. "I've been where you are. Even with a mountain of pills, that jump takes years. You look like you've been polishing this rank for a decade. You, my friend, are something special."
The Wolf King glanced at the human experts, his grin widening into a sneer. "Don't worry about them. I protect my own. The stronger the Demon Race gets, the sooner we sweep this island clean."
The five human experts scowled, their expressions darkening. A fast-growing enemy was the worst kind. Luo Zhen wasn't just a threat; he was a ticking time bomb. If he became a full Demon King, the balance of power on Silver Dragon Island would shift.
The Red-Faced Elder's hand twitched toward his weapon. If not for the truce and the presence of the Wolf King, he would have struck Luo Zhen down instantly.
"Wait," one of the other Demon Kings spoke up, scanning the portal. "Why are there only three of them?"
The crowd shifted. Only Luo Zhen, Red Jade, and the cousin stood on the platform. Usually, the exit was a stampede of survivors.
The leaders extended their spiritual senses, probing the shimmering gate, searching the void beyond. Seconds ticked by.
"It's empty," a Demon King murmured, confusion coloring his tone. "The other side... there's no one queuing up."
"Did something happen?"
"The instability?"
"Unlikely," another argued. "The survival rate is usually ten percent. We sent in over a hundred. Where are the other seven or eight?"
A heavy, suffocating silence descended on the mountain. The human elders looked particularly grim. The disciples they had sent in—heirs, nephews, prized students—were gone. The loss of potential was catastrophic.
While the titans of the realm were distracted by the mystery of the empty gate, Luo Zhen made his move. He didn't run; he simply drifted. He moved with the quiet fluidity of a shadow, slipping away from the center of the platform.
Red Jade, sharp as ever, noticed his retreat. She grabbed her cousin and quietly shadowed Luo Zhen, putting distance between themselves and the elders.
They made it a thousand meters down the slope before Red Jade couldn't hold it in anymore. She caught up to him, her voice a breathless whisper. "Brother Luo... look me in the eye. The people inside... the missing ones. Did you kill them?"
Luo Zhen didn't break stride. He looked straight ahead, his face impassive. "Does it matter? Dead is dead."
It was an admission without a confession.
Just as the words left his lips, a roar shattered the air behind them. It was a sound of pure, unadulterated fury that shook the trees.
"YOU! WRETCHED DEMON! WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?!"
Luo Zhen stopped and glanced over his shoulder.
Far up on the peak, the Red-Faced Elder had snapped. He was rushing down the mountain, a streak of crimson rage, sword drawn and screaming for blood.
"Today," the elder roared, his voice echoing like thunder, "I will mount your head on my wall!"