Jiang Dao did not emerge from the alleyway; he erupted from it.
He was a force of nature, a cataclysm compressed into the shape of a man. As he tore through the narrow confines of the side street, the masonry didn't just crumble—it disintegrated. Walls exploded outward in showers of dust and stone, and the ground beneath his feet fractured into spiderwebs of jagged earth. He was a furnace of Extreme Yang Fire, the heat radiating from him in shimmering waves that distorted the air, turning the gloomy atmosphere into a suffocating oven.
But the fire burning within his veins was nothing compared to the inferno raging in his mind. The fury had seared its way to the crown of his skull, bleaching his vision with red and leaving only a singular, bottomless cruelty in his eyes.
Not far away, the Seventh Prince of the Dayu Dynasty stood frozen, surrounded by his cadre of strategists and advisors. Their faces, previously masks of aristocratic arrogance, slackened into expressions of pure, unadulterated shock. They squinted through the heat haze, trying to comprehend the entity that had just breached their perimeter.
What… what kind of existence is this?
Only Sacrificer Linghu, currently locked in a desperate duel with two Corpse Demon Ancestors, heard the seismic disturbance. He risked a glance backward, and his heart hammered against his ribs. He recognized the figure, though his mind refused to accept it.
Gang Leader Jiang? How is this possible? Why is he here?
And more importantly, his form. It was more monstrous, more terrifying than it had ever been before.
Jiang Dao halted, his savage gaze sweeping the area like a searchlight. It didn't take long to lock onto the Seventh Prince. The air around Jiang Dao hummed with thermal energy as he spoke, his voice a low, terrifying rumble that vibrated in the chests of everyone present.
"Was it you?" Jiang Dao asked, his voice dripping with malice. "Was it you who said mortals deserve to die?"
"You—" The Seventh Prince stammered, his composure shattering.
Boom!
There was no negotiation, no hesitation. Jiang Dao launched himself forward. The ground where he had stood was instantly stamped into a crater, the sheer force of his propulsion sending shockwaves through the pavement. He closed the distance in a heartbeat, a massive claw swiping out with the intent to liquefy anything in its path.
"Your Highness, look out!"
The group of loyal strategists screamed in unison, throwing themselves forward in a suicidal bid to intercept the monster.
"Get lost!"
Jiang Dao didn't even slow down. He roared, a sound like tearing metal, and swept his massive palm through the air.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
It was a massacre. The strategists were as fragile as eggs thrown against a cliff face. As Jiang Dao's palm connected, they didn't just break; they detonated. Bodies exploded into mists of blood and bone, which were instantly ignited by the Extreme Yang Fire, turning the men into fleeting fireballs before they even hit the ground.
Jiang Dao's terrifying bulk belied a speed that defied physics. To him, the world was moving in slow motion. The desperate lunges of the Prince's guards looked like they were wading through molasses.
One Spirit Remover, a man renowned for his supernatural agility, tried to flank him. Jiang Dao didn't even look. He simply lashed out, his giant hand snatching the speedster out of the air like a fly. He ignored the man's shrill, terrified wails.
He squeezed.
Crack!
The sound was wet and sickening. The Spirit Remover was snapped in half at the waist. With a final, explosive squeeze, the body burst into a gory spray.
Jiang Dao stood amidst the carnage, the heat waves rolling off him like steam from a geyser. His muscles bulged under his skin, taut and hard as iron. His disheveled black hair whipped around his face, and his temples throbbed, swollen high enough to resemble protruding ox horns. He looked less like a human and more like a demon that had crawled up from the deepest hell.
"This is a Spirit Remover?" Jiang Dao laughed, a sound that lacked any mirth. "I don't see where the nobility is. When you pop, you're just red sludge like everyone else. Aren't you just trash, too? Hahaha!"
His laughter spiraled into madness as he turned his attention back to the Seventh Prince. He began to walk forward, step by heavy step, casting a long, monstrous shadow that swallowed the trembling royal.
"Didn't you think mortals deserve to die? Come on then. Kill me. Kill me!"
The heat pouring from Jiang Dao's nose and mouth was suffocating. The Seventh Prince, caught between rage and paralyzing terror, backed away. His mind couldn't process the brutality he had just witnessed. Where did this thing come from?
"Roar!"
Before the Prince could answer, a piercing shriek tore through the air. One of the Corpse Demon Ancestors, seeing an opening, abandoned the Daoists. It moved with unnatural speed, a blur of corpse wax and death energy, slicing through space to claw at Jiang Dao's exposed back.
As it flew, the creature underwent a grotesque transformation. It inflated like a balloon being filled with concrete. Inch after inch of black, necrotic muscle swelled violently, turning the creature into a five-meter-tall titan of death.
"Die!"
Its gloomy, razor-sharp claw thrust toward Jiang Dao's heart.
Jiang Dao didn't dodge. He spun on his heel, the movement blurring with speed, and drove a straight punch directly into the Corpse Demon's chest.
Boom!
The impact was so severe that space itself seemed to warp around his fist. Fire surged, and putrid corpse fluids splattered in a wide arc.
The Corpse Demon Ancestor let out a howl of agony. Its chest didn't just crack; it caved in completely, collapsing as if struck by a falling mountain. Its ribcage was shattered, and its internal organs were pulverized instantly.
But Jiang Dao wasn't finished.
He reached out, his hand engulfing the creature's face, and slammed it downward.
Smash! Smash! Smash!
The sound was rhythmic and dull, like a pile driver hitting wet earth. The ground shook. The mountains trembled. It was a display of raw, primitive violence. A creature that could terrorize entire cities was being treated like a rag doll, helpless and broken.
The onlookers watched in stunned silence. Even the second Corpse Demon, still engaging Sacrificer Linghu, felt a chill of genuine fear. But fear quickly turned to desperation.
"Seventh Prince!" the creature roared. "Why are you staring? Act now!"
Boom!
The second demon swung its Blood Punishment Killing Sword, blasting the Daoists back with a wave of demonic light. It, too, began to expand, its indigo skin stretching over swelling muscles as it charged Jiang Dao, sword raised high.
The shout snapped the Seventh Prince out of his stupor. With a roar meant to manufacture courage he didn't feel, he swung his black Meteor Hammer—a terrifying Sacred Artifact—and charged.
Jiang Dao, still pounding the first demon into the pavement, sensed the pincer attack. He grinned, a savage baring of teeth. He tossed the mangled corpse aside and lunged, not away from the attack, but directly into it.
He didn't block the Meteor Hammer. He grabbed it.
Boom!
The air exploded. The awakened artifact slammed into Jiang Dao's palm with the force of a collapsing building, but his physique was invincible. He didn't budge.
"This is a Spirit Remover?" Jiang Dao bellowed, his voice thunderous. "This is your power? What exactly are you proud of?"
His fingers clamped around the spiked iron of the hammer. He yanked.
Rip!
The force was irresistible. The Meteor Hammer was torn from the Seventh Prince's grip, but the friction was so intense that it took the Prince's skin with it. The palm of the Prince's hand was flayed instantly, the flesh burned away to the bone.
Before the scream could even leave the Prince's throat, Jiang Dao's other hand arrived. It was a slap, casual yet devastating.
Smack!
The air cracked. Jiang Dao's hand, the size of a dustpan, connected with the Prince's face. The structural integrity of the royal's skull failed immediately. The face caved in, teeth shattered, and the force spun the Prince's body like a top before sending him flying sideways into the ruins.
Simultaneously, the second Corpse Demon arrived, its massive sword hacking down with a wave of yin energy.
Jiang Dao pivoted, moving with the fluidity of a phantom. He swung the stolen Meteor Hammer in a brutal horizontal arc.
Dong!
Sacred Artifact met Sacred Artifact. The sound was ear-splitting, a high-pitched ring that threatened to burst eardrums. The shockwave distorted the visual field, blurring the world into a smudge of color.
Splat!
The Corpse Demon wasn't strong enough. The webbing between its fingers exploded in a spray of black blood. Its grip failed, and the massive sword was knocked spinning into the darkness.
Jiang Dao didn't hesitate. His free hand shot out, seizing the demon's arm. He planted his feet and pulled.
Tear!
The sound was wet and heavy. The Corpse Demon shrieked—a sound of pure horror—as its arm was ripped cleanly from its socket.
Jiang Dao didn't pause to admire his handiwork. He swung the Meteor Hammer again, driving it into the creature's face with the force of a hydraulic press.
Bang!
Like a watermelon meeting a sledgehammer, the demon's head exploded. Bone shards and black ichor sprayed the air. The headless body was launched backward, landing in a crumpled heap like a discarded sack of trash.
Two Corpse Demon Ancestors. Dead.
The strategists. Vaporized.
Only the Seventh Prince remained. He lay in the rubble, half-dead, twitching uncontrollably. His arrogance was gone, replaced by a void of terror.
Monster, his mind screamed. This is a monster.
"Roar!"
Jiang Dao bellowed again, venting the excess heat from his chest. He threw the hammer aside and stalked toward the broken Prince. He reached down, grabbing the royal by his blood-matted hair, and lifted him effortlessly into the air.
"Are mortals really that cheap?" Jiang Dao asked softly, the heat from his breath scorching the Prince's skin.
The Prince trembled, his soul rattling in his broken body.
"Cough… Don't… Don't kill him, Gang Leader Jiang…"
Sacrificer Linghu, battered and bloody, stumbled forward, coughing.
"He… He is the Seventh Prince of the Heavenly Dynasty," another old Daoist stammered, his eyes wide with fear. "You cannot… You cannot kill him!"
Jiang Dao ignored them. He stared into the Prince's weeping eyes. "I asked you a question. Are mortals cheap?"
"No… No…" The Prince wailed, blood bubbling from his lips. "Spare me… Spare me… I… I was forced to…"
"Forced?" Jiang Dao's grin widened, terrifying and cruel. "Heh. 'Forced.' Everyone is always forced."
"Don't! Don't kill him!" the old Daoist screamed.
Bang!
Jiang Dao's fingers contracted. The Prince's head detonated. Extreme Yang Fire erupted from Jiang Dao's hand, engulfing the headless corpse in a pillar of purifying flame. The Seventh Prince of Dayu was gone, reduced to ash and bad memories.
Jiang Dao turned, the flames still licking at his knuckles. He looked at the group of Daoists.
"Forced," he mocked, his voice booming. "You were all forced. Only we mortals aren't forced. We're just born cheap. Born to be slaughtered by you, bled by you, used by you. Is that it?"
He walked toward them, the pressure of his presence making the old men buckle.
"You," Jiang Dao pointed at the vocal Daoist. "You told me to spare him. Why? Do you have some dirty deal with him?"
"No! I don't!" the Daoist cried, his face pale.
"Then why stop me?" Jiang Dao leaned down, his burning face inches from the man. "Because of his title? 'Seventh Prince'? The Heavenly Dynasty is a slaughterhouse. Countless people die every day, and you care about a title?"
He straightened up, looking down with disdain. "I should crush you. But I saw you help the commoners earlier. So, I'll spare your worthless life. In my eyes, Spirit Removers aren't noble. You're just ants with delusions of grandeur."
He turned his back on them, dismissing them as threats. He looked at Sacrificer Linghu.
"Old man. Your disciples knelt and begged me to save you. Now I'm here. Are you coming or not?"
Linghu blinked, stunned. "Xiao Feng… Zi Ling… they sent you?"
"If we weren't friends, I wouldn't be here," Jiang Dao said coldly. "The choice is yours."
He walked over to the fallen Blood Punishment Killing Sword and scooped it up. Another Sacred Artifact for the collection.
Nearby, the rescued commoners huddled together, staring at Jiang Dao with a mixture of awe and terror. The world had gone mad. The government wanted them dead. The heroes wanted them dead. And the monster? The monster was the only one saving them.
"Daoist Qing Song, come out."
From a shattered wall, Daoist Qing Song emerged. Behind him, hundreds of sleeping commoners floated in the air, suspended by Jiang Dao's power.
"Senior Linghu," Qing Song bowed.
"It's you… from the Divine Martial Gate," Linghu gasped.
"No time for chat," Jiang Dao interrupted. He flexed his mind, and the twisted gravity field expanded, lifting the sleeping masses like drifting leaves. He looked at the conscious survivors. "If you don't want to die, follow me. Don't fall behind. The Spirit Removers won't treat you like humans."
He began to march. The commoners scrambled to follow, terrified of losing his protection. The Daoists fell in line, their worldviews shattered.
As they walked through the gloom, Sacrificer Linghu finally gathered the courage to speak.
"Gang Leader Jiang… why? Why has the world become like this?"
"Why?" Jiang Dao asked without looking back.
"I don't know," Linghu whispered, his voice heavy with despair. "Or rather, I wish I didn't. Tianshi Mountain intercepted the 'Higher Will.' The Heavens have decided to purge the Night Watchmen. They are using all of humanity as bait to draw them out. Evil Gods, Death Gods, Monstrosities… even us Spirit Removers are commanded to stand by. Whoever interferes is an enemy of the Will. Whoever watches… might be granted transcendence."
Jiang Dao stopped. His eyes narrowed.
"So, it's a rigged game," he said, his voice cold. "A 'Higher Will'? What is it? Which beast is it?"
"Silence!" Linghu hissed, terrified. "Do not speak of it! Its name cannot be spoken, or disaster will fall."
"Can't even say its name. How high and mighty," Jiang Dao sneered. "But let me ask you this, old man. If you let the Evil Gods feed, let the Death Domains spread… do you think you'll survive? They eat mortals today. They'll eat you tomorrow. You think standing by will save you?"
Linghu looked down, his face aged and bitter. "Do I not know that? But what can I do? The entire Spirit Remover world is sitting on the fence. Tianshi Mountain tried to resist, and look at us now. This is the price of defiance."
Jiang Dao fell silent. The cowardice of the powerful was a tale as old as time. They would watch the world burn as long as the fire didn't touch their robes.
"Tell me," Jiang