Nanjue.
Yusheng Mo wore a bamboo hat and was dressed in purple.
As the number one expert of Nanjue, he knew very well that his life had already reached its end.
Originally, his battle with Li Changsheng had already overdrawn his lifespan.
And then, in order to defeat Yan Lingxia,
he had sacrificed everything to unleash his strongest sword strike.
At this moment, his entire being was like a lone leaf drifting upon a vast ocean.
By his side stood a young man, spirited and riding with youthful vigor.
Looking at him, a trace of gratification was hidden in Yusheng Mo's eyes.
He was his beloved disciple—Ye Dingzhi.
The world said that Yusheng Mo had exhausted his life only to secure the title of Nanjue's strongest, that he had forced out his ultimate sword to slay Yan Lingxia for the sake of fame.
But in his heart, he knew the truth.
That sword strike
was to allow Ye Dingzhi to comprehend the final move of the Immortal-Demonic Sword Art.
For his disciple,
he was willing to give up his life.
"There's an old man in the north,"
"I've never beaten him my entire life."
"You must fight for it."
"Defeat his disciple."
…
Yusheng Mo spoke softly.
And Ye Dingzhi could hear the weakness hidden in his master's voice.
His eyes reddened.
His master was the strongest in Nanjue—how proud a man he was!
He would never have been like this.
Everything… was for his sake.
"This disciple remembers."
"I will not fail."
"My master's trust."
…
Hearing Ye Dingzhi's reply,
the heavy stone in Yusheng Mo's heart finally fell away.
After a long while,
he gathered all his strength and forced out a final sentence:
"Farewell."
"My disciple."
No matter how much reluctance,
no matter how much unwillingness,
he refused to show his fragile side before his student.
Then—
He rose into the air and departed.
From this moment on, it was a farewell for eternity.
"Master!"
Ye Dingzhi shouted as he watched his master's figure disappear.
His nose stung.
A master for a day, a father for life.
From childhood to adulthood, there were only a handful of people who had ever treated him well.
When he was young, he had been the youngest son of Ye Yu, the Great General and War God of Beili.
Favored by all.
Leading troops into battle.
Defending the nation and its people.
Loved by the common folk, revered by the soldiers!
Yet because his merits overshadowed the throne,
with a single spark of suspicion from the King of Beili,
the blade was swung down—
The Ye Residence was slaughtered,
leaving him an orphan with no one to cherish him.
The Ye clan was branded with the crime of rebellion.
Thus began his road of exile.
The world knew him as Ye Yun, the son of the Ye family—
and so he was bullied, spat upon, cursed, and hunted.
Left with no choice,
he hid his name and identity, becoming Ye Dingzhi, dragging along an exhausted body and a shattered soul, barely surviving.
After that,
he entered the academy,
and met the woman he loved most—
Yi Wenjun.
In the martial world, one cannot act as one wishes.
Yi Wenjun had no control over her fate and was arranged to marry Xiao Ruojin.
Ye Dingzhi wanted to take her away.
But he was stopped.
With his current strength, he was wanted throughout the entire city—he couldn't even protect himself, so how could he protect the one he loved?
In the end, like a stray dog,
he fled Tianqi City.
He was unwilling to accept this.
Thus, he made a half-year pact—
half a year later, he would kill his way back into Tianqi City and take Yi Wenjun with him.
And it was precisely because of this childish decision that—
Yusheng Mo chose to sacrifice himself,
all to help his disciple grow stronger.
He led him to constantly challenge Nanjue's experts.
Again and again.
Time and time again, burning away his lifespan—
all so that his disciple could see his martial arts,
and learn his sword techniques.
"Why…"
Ye Dingzhi lifted his head.
Between his brows, a mass of baleful aura seemed to be gathering.
He was questioning the heavens.
"Why is it that those who love me, and those I love, all leave me?"
"Why do good people receive no good reward?"
"Why…"
"Why do I treat others with kindness, yet they repay me with cruelty?"
A layer of mist rose in Ye Dingzhi's eyes.
Yet—
deep within his pupils,
there was an unseen trace of purple energy.
If Yusheng Mo were here,
he would immediately recognize it—
This was a sign of entering demonic cultivation.
And not ordinary deviation,
but a willing descent into demonic paths.
"I don't understand."
"The Ye clan guarded Beili, bringing stability and peace."
"Why…"
"Why were we framed, with the entire household labeled as traitorous rebels?"
"Why…"
"Why does Beili wrong these soldiers who fought for the nation?"
"They shed blood and gave their lives, fought to the death without retreat—
even if they had no merit, they had suffered greatly!
So why, even in death, must they be slandered and spat upon by the world?!"
…
The more he thought,
the heavier the baleful aura between his brows became.
The purple in his pupils
grew ever deeper.
Then—
he took a step forward into the pool.
To one's surprise,
he did not sink.
Instead, he hovered above the water, a column of mist rising to envelop him.
The baleful aura… condensed!
"Why…"
"Why can't I even protect the one I love?"
"Why…"
"Why can't I protect those who love me?"
…
Ye Dingzhi's pupils had turned a deep, true purple.
His hair ribbon snapped loose.
Black hair danced wildly.
His aura was completely different from before—as if he were an entirely different person.
Baleful energy surged skyward.
At this moment,
he recalled the words Li Changsheng had once said to him at the Prince Jingyu's Residence.
"You are too weak."
"You and your master are the same—both like to gamble with your lives."
"If you were stronger,"
"none of this would have happened."
…
At that moment,
Li Changsheng planted a seed of strength within Ye Dingzhi's heart.
And now—
that seed was watered with vengeance,
fertilized with obsession,
and began to grow, to sprout!
He finally understood.
All the helplessness and regret
were nothing more than the result of one's own incompetence.
"So that's how it is."
At this moment, Ye Dingzhi felt his thoughts clear, and he laughed.
The smile at the corner of his lips was filled with sinister intent.
At this moment,
he was no longer the youthful hero who carried spring winds on his shoulders.
He was like a ruthless evil sovereign who killed without blinking.
His entire being overflowed with demonic and wicked aura.
"If I were strong enough,"
"when the Ye clan was slandered, I could cut them down with a single sword and restore our justice."
"If I were strong enough,"
"when Wenjun was threatened, I could shatter everything with sheer force and take her away."
"If I were strong enough,"
"Master would never have had to gamble his life against Li Changsheng—he wouldn't have died."
"It's all because I'm too weak."
"I want to become stronger."
"Even if this is a path no one dares to walk."
"I want to become stronger."
"Even if this path makes enemies of ten thousand, and I become the enemy of all!"
As Ye Dingzhi's resolve fully crystallized,
the baleful aura around him condensed once more!
As it surged into his body, blood flowed from his eyes, ears, and mouth.
Yet he was smiling.
The scene was incomparably eerie.
At that moment,
it was as if a voice echoed within Ye Dingzhi's mind.
"Enter the demonic path."
He threw his head back and laughed loudly.
"Three kowtows before the demons—
in the mortal world, one does not become an immortal!"
In that instant—
heaven and earth changed.
Blood-red clouds rolled for eight hundred li,
vegetation withered across a thousand li,
and beasts fell dead where they stood.