Malakar’s capital was ablaze. Smoke choked the streets, curling skyward into the dark clouds above. Buildings collapsed under the weight of flame, their roofs caving like brittle bones. The scent of burning wood mixed with blood and death, creating a haze that made even seasoned soldiers stagger.Kirin arrived at the city gates as the first wave of demons poured through the breach. They poured from the sky, from jagged rifts in the streets, and from portals that opened like wounds in the very foundation of the capital. Clawed hands tore through steel, jagged teeth shredded armor, and shrieks of panic echoed across the cobbled streets.The guards at the gate fell in seconds, their ranks scattered like leaves in a storm. Kirin didn’t hesitate. His sword sang through the air, black energy coursing from his veins to strike down the first wave of creatures. A demon lunged at a terrified child, and Kirin’s blade met it with a flash of chaos, severing the thing in two before it even realized

Night had fallen like a curtain over Malakar. The surviving warriors and villagers had barely slept, their nerves frayed from the chaos of the previous days. Fires from scattered skirmishes still burned faintly across the land, casting long shadows that trembled across the jagged terrain. The air was thick with ash and tension, the scent of scorched earth lingering like a persistent omen.Kirin moved silently through the empty streets of the capital, his boots muffled against the blackened cobblestones. His body was exhausted from the battles, the chaos of the portals, and the constant exertion of his Qi against demonic forces. But even as he wandered, he felt it, a disturbance that made his blood run cold. Something massive, something not of this world, was approaching.He stopped on a small rise outside the city walls, where the horizon stretched wide and open. The sky had shifted. It was no longer merely dark, but tinged with crimson, a deep, unnatural red that radiated like the gl

The valley yawned before him like an unspoken challenge. Jagged rocks clawed at the sky, and thick mist slithered between them, carrying a faint tang of sulfur and decay. Kirin’s boots sank slightly into damp moss as he moved forward, senses alert. Somewhere deeper, the Serpent’s Pool awaited—a body of water whispered about in old scrolls, feared for its venomous essence that could either refine a cultivator’s body and spirit or consume them entirely.Legends claimed the pool was guarded, not by mortal warriors, but by a colossal serpent spirit, ancient beyond counting. Its scales shimmered like black glass under the faint light filtering through the mist. Its eyes were twin orbs of molten gold, piercing through shadows, through flesh, into the very soul of anyone who dared approach. Many had tried to claim the pool’s power. Few returned. Those who did were said to be forever altered, their energy flowing with a purity and danger unlike any other.Kirin paused at the edge of the clear

The wind carried the scent of smoke and death across the plains of Malakar. Where villages had once thrived, only charred ruins remained. The cries of the wounded and the dying were faint echoes, barely carrying above the constant roar of battle. Portals still tore the sky, irregular tears bleeding energy from the underworld, and the occasional howl of lesser demons punctuated the air.Kirin emerged from the mist of morning, stepping over splintered wagons and fallen soldiers. The Mid Soul Nascent breakthrough had left him renewed—his veins thrumming with black lightning and chaos essence coiling around his Qi like living serpents. Every step he took resonated with raw energy, and even the slightest gust of wind seemed to bend around him.Soldiers paused mid-stride, their expressions frozen between disbelief and hope. They had fought for days, staggering beneath endless waves of demons, and now here was Kirin—alone, unannounced, and radiating a presence that could cut through despair

The battlefield had quieted for a brief moment, a lull that felt almost unnatural. Kirin moved through the scorched remains of Blackwater Valley, boots crunching on broken stone and ash. Smoke still curled from the corpses of demons and soldiers alike, the air heavy with the metallic scent of blood. The Mid Soul Nascent power thrumming within him made every breath feel sharper, every heartbeat louder. He was alive, and he was strong—but the world around him was fragile.Voices drifted to him from a nearby encampment. Soldiers huddled together, exhausted, battered, and wary. At first, Kirin ignored them. Soldiers whispered constantly, half in fear, half in habit, and he had no interest in idle gossip. But the words caught his attention, dragging him closer like a magnet to a hidden fault line.“They’ve known… the nobles have always known,” one soldier muttered, voice low. “This was coming, and they did nothing. They’ve been sitting in their halls, hoarding what could have saved lives.”