The Shattered Vortex

Chapter 10 The Emergency of the Sovereign

Three months in the Myriad Beast Abyss would have reduced a normal cultivator to a hollow, screaming lunatic. In the absolute dark, where the walls bled toxic miasma and the silence was punctuated only by the wet, rhythmic tearing of flesh, sanity was the first resource to deplete.

But Lu Chen was not a normal cultivator. He had spent ninety days doing what he did best: embracing the dark, breaking his limits, and devouring everything that dared to challenge his existence.

At the highest precipice of the third layer, the pitch-black air suddenly rippled. A massive, multi-eyed Shadow Stalker—a Tier-3 monstrosity that ruled the deep chasms—lunged from the ceiling [1.1]. It moved like a silent, tearing wind, its obsidian talons aiming to cleave Lu Chen’s skull in two [1.1].

Lu Chen didn't even look up. He merely extended his right index finger.

Thrum.

Deep within his dantian, the miniature, razor-sharp emerald needle spun a single fraction of a millimeter. A thin, line-thin beam of pure, solidified crimson-and-emerald Qi shot from his fingertip like a localized lightning bolt [1.1]. The piercing solid force didn't just impact the monster; it punched entirely through its armored skull, vaporizing its brain matter instantly. The massive beast crashed to the stone floor, dead before its body could register the strike [1.1].

As the Shadow Stalker's form began to dissolve into a heavy cloud of black, corrupt energy, Lu Chen opened his mouth and drew a deep, vacuum-like breath [1.1]. The Devouring Maw opened wide, dragging the thick demonic smoke straight into his chest, where his mutated True Foundation vortex ground it into pure, unyielding fuel [1.1].

Lu Chen opened his eyes, the faint crimson light in his pitch-black pupils fading back into a calm, terrifying deadness. His tattered rags were gone, replaced by a simple tunic crafted from the cured, midnight-black hide of the beasts he had slaughtered. His skin possessed a flawless, marble-like texture, underlaid by a subtle, metallic sheen. He had not just survived the Myriad Beast Abyss; he had hollowed it out.

Suddenly, a deep, grinding groan echoed from the very top of the cavern. The massive obsidian doors—sealed for three months—were slowly cracking open. A single, blinding shaft of natural, high-altitude sunlight pierced the eternal gloom, cutting through the fog like a divine blade [1.1].

"Three months," Lu Chen whispered, his voice smooth, carrying an icy, resonance that caused the surrounding purple mosses to instantly wither and die. "Time's up."

He didn't run. He took slow, measured steps up the steep stone incline, ascending from the underworld back into the realm of the living.

When he stepped through the grand obsidian threshold, the blinding light of the outer plaza forced his eyes to narrow. The cool mountain breeze hit his face, carrying the scent of cedar and burning incense. But the atmosphere in the plaza was not welcoming. It was stifling, tense, and heavy with the scent of drawn steel.

Surrounding the exit of the abyss was a perfect hemisphere of two hundred elite Inner Disciples, all clad in pristine crimson silk and armed with master-crafted spiritual swords. At the front of the formation stood Zhou Lifeng’s father, Clan Chief Zhou, a man whose face was a mask of cold, aristocratic fury, alongside several heavily armed external executioners.

Above them all, hovering in the air on an elevated platform of cloud-matter, sat Sect Master Jiang Chen, holding his plain wooden staff.

"He actually walked out," Deacon Meng stammered from the side, his fingers shaking so violently he dropped his iron ledger into the dirt. "He... he looks completely transformed."

Lu Chen stopped ten paces from the inner disciple formation. His bare feet rested on the pristine marble, his hands hanging loosely at his sides. He looked at the array of weapons pointed at his chest and didn't even blink.

"Lu Chen," Clan Chief Zhou stepped forward, his voice a venomous hiss that rattled the stones. "You crippled my eldest son, ruined my youngest, and practiced forbidden demonic arts. The Sect Master gave you three months to cleanse your sins, but a demonic beast can never change its nature. Today, the Zhou Clan executes you with the full authority of the outer elders!"

Lu Chen didn't look at the clan chief. He raised his pitch-black eyes to the sky, locking his gaze directly onto Sect Master Jiang.

"Is this the deal, Sect Master?" Lu Chen asked, his voice flat, cutting through the heavy, golden pressure of the gathered experts. "I stabilize your seal, and you let the dogs bark at the gate?"

Sect Master Jiang remained silent for a long moment, his serene, ancient gaze evaluating Lu Chen's new form. He could feel it—the gaseous, chaotic energy Lu Chen had taken down into the dark was entirely gone. In its place was a dense, terrifyingly sharp physical solid hidden deep within his core. The weapon had not broken. It had become too sharp for the sect to easily wield.

"The Vermilion Sect values strength above all else, Lu Chen," Sect Master Jiang finally spoke, his voice cool and detached. "But the rules of the mountain must be maintained. If you can survive the judgement of the Zhou Clan, your seat as the undisputed successor to the inner peaks stands. If you fall, you were merely fuel."

"Understood," Lu Chen said, a cold, humorless smile breaking across his face.

He took a slow step forward. Deep within his belly, the emerald-crimson needle began to vibrate violently, generating a high-pitched, metallic hum that caused the swords of the two hundred inner disciples to violently rattle in their scabbards. The air around him distorted, filling the plaza with the invisible scent of ozone and copper.

"You think your noble birthright makes you superior," Lu Chen said, his eyes locking onto Clan Chief Zhou as a shimmering blade of solid emerald Qi extended from his knuckles. "You think your gold and your clans can protect you from the mud. Let me show you what the abyss taught me."

He lowered his center of gravity, the marble beneath his boots instantly fracturing into a spiderweb of cracks.

"The beggar is out of the cage," Lu Chen growled, his voice echoing across the entire mountain peaks. "And I'm tearing this sect down from the roots."