Lorian Zethar hovered above the shattered battlefield, his brow glowing with a deep, oceanic blue. The light wasn’t just illumination—it pulsed like it was alive, as if the sea itself had condensed into a crown of authority. Every step he took across the broken sky seemed to thrum with that living azure glow, radiating a presence no mortal could touch. The wind parted instinctively around him, the ruins bowing in silent submission.“Stop resisting. Offer your Demon Essence willingly,” he said, calm, measured, the kind of voice that makes even monsters hesitate. “Perhaps I can grant you a death befitting your stature.”The Dark-Gold Ancient Demon’s molten crimson eyes flared with ancient malice. Its chest burned with a red-hot light of destruction, and the air itself trembled around it.“Do you really see yourself as a king?” it hissed, voice slicing through the sky like a jagged blade.Fear rippled through the onlookers. The energy radiating from Lorian was unlike anything they had ev

For a long while after that, Kaelen stayed right where he was—inside the territory of the Dark-Gold Ancient Evil Demon.No rushing off.No sudden moves.He had his reasons.Deep down, he knew the truth, plain and simple. In the entire Ancient Ruins, there probably wasn’t a safer place than this.Funny, when you thought about it.To everyone else, this place was a nightmare. The demon’s lair was the stuff of whispered warnings and last regrets. A forbidden zone where death wasn’t a risk—it was a promise.But for Kaelen?It was a shelter.A harbor.Somewhere, danger simply didn’t reach him anymore.Maybe fate liked playing jokes.Or maybe power had a way of flipping reality on its head.Without wasting time, Kaelen eased himself into the Spring of Life.The instant his body touched the surface, soft ripples spread outward.Gurgle. Gurgle.The sound echoed faintly through the ancient chamber.Warmth wrapped around him.Not the burning kind. Not pain. This was different. Old. Gentle, yet

Swish. Swish. Swish.The air snapped and trembled as Kaelen’s disciples moved without even thinking about it—muscle memory. Training kicking in. The moment the last word left the man behind him, every head turned in the same direction.Down.Bodies.Too many.Shadowfang Sect disciples were scattered across the blackened ground like broken dolls. Throats torn open. Clean, vicious strikes meant to end lives fast. Blood soaked into the cracked earth, almost glowing under the red glare of the nearby molten lava. Each corpse told the same story—no mercy, no hesitation. Just slaughter.For a single heartbeat, everyone froze.Then their faces changed.Not from the heat. From what surged up inside them.Rage. Grief. That hollow, sinking feeling you get when you see someone you laughed with yesterday lying dead today.These weren’t strangers. They were brothers and sisters. People who trained together, complained together, bled together. And now they were gone. Just like that.Kaelen didn’t sp

The explosion ripped through the sky, loud and violent, like thunder tearing the heavens straight down the middle.Boom.A killing strike from a Half Step Venerable came crashing down. No hesitation. No mercy. The air screamed as a blade of pure energy tore forward, packed with enough force to level mountains and wipe lives away in the blink of an eye.The ground shook under everyone’s feet. Clouds above twisted like they were trying to escape.For just a split second, the battlefield went eerily still. Like the world itself was holding its breath.Then the Royal Martial Arts Academy burst into cheers.They were loud. Confident. Almost smug.To them, this was already over.High in the sky, the golden-robed elder stood tall, his presence crushing and absolute. That strike carried decades of cultivation, endless battles, rivers of blood. Even true Martial Venerables would think twice before facing it head-on.How could Kaelen survive something like that?“He’s dead!” someone yelled.Ano

Kael’s eyes were bloodshot, burning with a mix of grief and rage.He stared at the shattered tombstone, its jagged edges glinting in the dim light.The words carved into it—Tomb of Martial Uncle Alaric Lei — Left by Kaelen—hit him like a dagger straight to the heart.Alaric Lei had always been extraordinary. Within the Shadowfang Sect, everyone respected him—but he never let it go to his head. He walked among the younger disciples with warmth, earning their admiration naturally. Never arrogant, never distant.And now… he was gone. Just like that. Dead. Right before their eyes.“Who… killed him?” Kael’s voice was low, cold, razor-sharp.“The Golden-Robed Elder of the Royal Martial Academy… Senior Brother Kaelen has slain him,” a disciple stammered. His voice trembled slightly.Kael’s face didn’t give anything away, but a subtle nod betrayed his understanding.He had known Kaelen would do this. Even if it meant taking on the entire Royal Martial Academy.The Golden-Robed Elder… untouc