Li Jian and Hou Lin did not dare to argue further. They knew that their loyalty to Xu Sheng had now bound them to an inevitable Path of Vileness. They bowed deeply, taking the scroll enveloped in the foul aura with trembling hands.

  "We will obey Senior Xu’s orders," Li Jian said, his voice feeling empty. As the two disciples sped away from Sky Cloud Peak, Xu Sheng sat back down on his cultivation cushion. He picked up the cracked Five Element Pagoda, stroking it with trembling fingers.

  "Zhi Xuan," he murmured, his lips forming a cold smile that resembled a smirk. "You want a Cycle of Death? I will give it to you. The Ancient Wasteland will be your Grave, and I will return to the Path of Righteousness after you have vanished."

  While darkness began to creep over Sky Cloud Peak, at the silent Heaven Sword Peak, Zhi Xuan had submerged into deep cultivation. His body absorbed spiritual essence at a slow but steady rate, but his mind was now entirely focused on the Ancient Devil heritage.

  In his Sea of Consciousness, he focused his attention on the runes of the Blood Slaughtering Demon Art. The runes felt heavy and ancient, each containing a promise of vileness and limitless power. He began to direct the newly absorbed spiritual essence, not into the core of his Divine Wheel, but into the network of his meridians and flesh.

  The process was painful, even in the spiritual realm. Every rune he tried to carve felt like a blade of fire cutting and forging his spiritual body. However, Zhi Xuan endured the pain with a cold Ancient Devil will, remembering his goal: to forge a vessel capable of bearing the weight of the Supreme Law of the Heavenly Wheel of Samsara and, most importantly, to suppress the will of the Devil Seed residing in the core of his soul.

  "You must be strong, Monkey," murmured Ruo Xianxue, who was now back in a cross-legged position near the fragmented Ancient Devil Monument. "The Heavenly-Blood Body Law requires millions of lives to reach the second pillar. The Seven Lotus Yin Fruit is a good start. But the Divine Stone Mine will be the true slaughterhouse."

  The spiritual Zhi Xuan nodded. "I understand, Great Saint. This Path is an honest, selfish Path. I only need to see every creature as fertilizer for my Dao."

  As he focused his mind, a strand of soft and colorful light began to emanate from within the Three Ages Divine Furnace. Xiao Die’s cocoon was now pulsing with a faster and stronger rhythm. Zhi Xuan knew that the Thousand Feather Moth would soon be reborn, reaching the peak Verdant Titan level equivalent to a Five Element realm cultivator who had mastered all five elements. This new strength would be the support he needed to face the dangers in the Ancient Wasteland.

  Five days passed in a tense silence. Zhi Xuan spent all his time forging the first rune of the Blood Slaughtering Demon Art and recovering his essence. His physical foundation now felt slightly more solid, and the pain from his recently closed spiritual wounds had subsided. When the fifth day arrived, he rose from his cultivation cushion.

  Although his face was still pale from exhaustion, his eyes once again radiated a cold sharpness ready to tear the world apart. The promise to come to Immortal Jade Peak was something he could not ignore, considering he still had thirty-four meetings to obtain Dao guidance from Zhu Qinglan.

  "It is time," Zhi Xuan murmured, reaching for the Seven Star Boat before slowly shaking his head. "No, that would only remind me of that Tigress’s toss."

  A thin, cold laugh escaped Zhi Xuan’s lips. He left the Seven Star Boat, his flying artifact, back in his storage bag—a cynical acknowledgment of the insult he received when thrown by Zhu Qinglan. He did not need a flying artifact; he only needed the sharp arrogance of his own steps for that girl.

  WHUSH!

  Zhi Xuan’s divine sense swirled, carving intricate spatial runes at his feet. In an instant, he vanished, leaving the silent Heaven Sword Peak behind and heading toward Immortal Jade Peak—a peak always shrouded in spiritual mist and a calm Law of Water aura, yet feeling lethal with the tension of a few days ago.

  WHUSHH!

  Zhi Xuan appeared in the courtyard of Immortal Jade Peak. The spiritual mist enveloping the peak felt cold and pure, as if every drop of dew was the essence of the Law of Water purified for thousands of years. The air here felt heavy with elegance, a sharp contrast to the brutal sword aura at Heaven Sword Peak.

  As soon as he set foot on the slippery white jade, strands of subtle yet deadly Five Element aura immediately enveloped him, testing every inch of his Consciousness Transformation foundation. It was not an attack, but a lyrical strand of a veil—as if Immortal Jade Peak itself were deciding whether he was worthy to stand upon it.

  Zhi Xuan ignored it, letting the aura seep into his body. He walked straight across the perfectly arranged jade garden, each step calm and measured, reflecting the peace he had recently found after forging the Heavenly-Blood Body Law. His face was pale, but there was no longer any trace of spiritual exhaustion; only a cold sharpness remained.

  In the center of the garden, in a pavilion made of white sandalwood and decorated with jade carvings, Zhu Qinglan was already waiting for him. She sat on a golden silk cushion, wearing an elegant ice-blue robe. This time, her face was not covered by a pearl veil. Her perfect beauty, adorned with calm light grey eyes, felt like the image of a Goddess looking down upon mortals.

  Beside Zhu Qinglan stood two maidservants radiating solid spiritual essence auras, Mei and Ling'er. They stared at Zhi Xuan with wary and cold gazes, as if prepared to act if the wild Devil dared to utter another indecent word. On the jade table in front of Zhu Qinglan lay an intricate formation seal, a spiritual map depicting a region shrouded in an aura of danger.

  Despite being surrounded by tranquility and elegance, the air in the pavilion felt as sharp as a sword blade. This was a different arena, where the battle no longer used Soul Artifacts, but instead used wit and will.

  "Holy Maiden Zhu," Zhi Xuan greeted with a calm voice and a slight bow, a minimal sign of respect but enough to satisfy sect etiquette. A thin, cold smile was etched on his lips. He ignored the stares from Mei and Ling'er, his focus solely on Zhu Qinglan. "I have come to fulfill the promise, as you ordered."

  Zhu Qinglan returned the greeting with a brief silence, her light grey eyes scrutinizing every inch of Zhi Xuan’s body. She searched for traces of spiritual exhaustion, for cracks in his arrogance, but all she found was a new calm and a deepening cold sharpness. She saw no fatigue, but rather a foundation that was slightly more solid.

  "I see it," Zhu Qinglan said, her voice as cold as the wind rustling across a snow peak, calm yet carrying the weight of undeniable authority. She ignored Zhi Xuan’s cold smile, repaying it with a lethal stillness. "You recovered your foundation faster than I expected. It seems you have become even wilder than the last time."

  "Of course," Zhi Xuan replied, straightening his body. Arrogance once again dominated his tone, piercing the silence of the Immortal Jade Pavilion. "Even a wild lion will be more ferocious after being healed by the saliva of a tigress. Does the Holy Maiden not enjoy the challenge of taming something she does not understand?"

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  Zhu Qinglan’s face, perfect and stainless, did not show the slightest emotion. However, in her Sea of Consciousness, a storm thundered. The metaphor of the tigress's saliva referring to her Heavenly Silk, and the cynical question about taming, were direct and shameless attacks. She realized this Devil would never surrender his filthy arrogance.

  Mei and Ling'er, standing behind her, felt a cold anger envelop the air. They instinctively took a step forward, their spiritual essence swirling, ready to shackle the wild Devil.

  However, Zhu Qinglan raised her delicate right hand with a calm gesture, stopping their intent. She let the silence expand, letting Zhi Xuan’s arrogance hang in the air. She replied to the provocation not with words, but with a cold gaze that radiated the thousands of years of wisdom of an Ancient Clan.

  Zhu Qinglan shifted her cold gaze from Zhi Xuan, ignoring the arrogance and intimate provocation just delivered. She leaned forward slightly, the elegance of her movement making her ice-blue robe wave thin, like water at the calmest peak. Her slender fingers, as white as jade, with a graceful motion pointed to the spiritual map spread out on the table.

  "I am not interested in the games of a wild monkey, Zhi Xuan," Zhu Qinglan hissed, her voice calm, flat, and lethal, as if refusing to be provoked. "Your Path, at its core, is a mortal Path filled with instinct. The Path I walk is an Ancient Path filled with destiny. Do not confuse poison with medicine."

  Zhi Xuan shrugged his shoulders upward, a gesture of arrogance showing that his Path was more dominant than anyone's. He calmly looked at the formation seal on the table. He stared at the spiritual map pointing to a spot in the Middle Continent, where there was a skull symbol with an earth symbol confirming the forbidden territory.

  "Tomb of the Great Emperors, Ancient Wasteland, Seven Lotus Yin Fruit," Zhi Xuan murmured, a thin smile pulling at the corners of his lips. "I understand. I will leave the sect tomorrow to prepare myself for this mission. Perhaps, if I gain enlightenment regarding the Five Element realm, it will be a blessing that makes things easier."

  Zhu Qinglan closed her eyes for a moment, as if weighing every word spoken by this wild Devil. Zhi Xuan’s indifference toward the dangers on the map—the skull symbol and the forbidden territory markers—was true arrogance. He did not flinch. However, she realized Zhi Xuan’s implicit understanding. This journey was an opportunity for him to solidify his Dao that swallowed the Five Elements and to step from Consciousness Transformation into the Five Element realm.

  "Dao enlightenment must come from an understanding of Nature, not from brutal slaughter," Zhu Qinglan countered, her eyes opening again, radiating a Law of Water that was clear and calm yet unable to disguise a hint of concern. "Zhi Xuan, control yourself and return safely."

  Those words, though they sounded like a warning, contained a faint note of worry that could only be heard by Zhi Xuan. It was an acknowledgment that she did not want this wild Devil’s death, as she was bound to a great karmic promise and also because she was being eroded day by day by the understanding that only the man before her could take her further.

  Zhi Xuan let out a long sigh, a movement that felt out of place in that pavilion shrouded in elegance. He stepped forward, his cold hand reaching out and casually picking up the spiritual map scroll. This motion caused Mei and Ling'er to again take a step forward, but they were immediately stopped by Zhu Qinglan’s frozen gaze.

  "Holy Maiden Zhu," Zhi Xuan said, his voice returning to a hoarse tone full of cold arrogance. "Do not worry. I will not die simply because of smog or being crushed by a divine stone. Besides, I could not possibly let a beautiful woman like you claim that her husband died at the hands of a wild wolf in the Ancient Wasteland."

  Zhu Qinglan’s face, which had been perfect in its calm, finally showed a reaction—a flash of redness that passed like lightning across her jade-white cheeks, followed by a layer of cold ice that thickened in her eyes. The words spoken so casually in front of her servants and inside her pavilion were the filthiest insult, a shameless claim of ownership.

  Zhu Qinglan clenched her hands beneath the folds of her robe, the strength of that grip so great she nearly tore the golden silk of her cushion. The flush on her face vanished, replaced by the pure frost of the Law of Water. She no longer showed anger; she showed absolute and dangerous disdain. She had tried to calm, divert, and dictate, but this Devil always found a way to pierce her shield of elegance, claiming her sacred honor as a joke.

  "Husband?" Zhu Qinglan hissed, her voice sharp, lethal, and so cold that Mei and Ling'er trembled behind her. "You dare, wild Devil. You are not my husband. You are but an unpaid promise! Karma that must be settled!"

  Zhi Xuan let the map scroll spin casually in his hand. He leaned forward slightly, reducing the distance separating them. The smile on his lips was now wider, wilder, and filled with a crude intimacy.

  "Karma," Zhi Xuan replied, his voice hoarse. "Requires a bond to be settled. And a bond always begins with a promise. Are beautiful women not always dangerous, Holy Maiden? You want me to settle the karma, yet you fear the bond that will accompany it."

  He took a deep breath; the air in the cold pavilion felt filled with a faint scent of ice lotus—a scent that had become a symbol of danger for him. His sapphire eyes stared directly into Zhu Qinglan’s light grey eyes, a challenging and provocative gaze. With a calm nod, he stepped back and turned.

  He waved his hand, and in his hand appeared a small golden-brown statue in the shape of a man holding a staff. He scratched his hand and dripped his spiritual blood onto it. The statue vibrated subtly, and as Zhi Xuan waved his hand, the statue floated and stood upon the table.

  "If I die, that statue will crumble," Zhi Xuan said without turning back, his voice calm and cold. "If I live, then no disciple of the Thousand Heavens Sect will be able to match me."

  Zhi Xuan ignored Zhu Qinglan’s frozen reaction, turning and walking away without waiting for a reply. His final claim—that if he lived, no disciple of the Thousand Heavens Sect could match him—was the ultimate statement of arrogance, spoken with the calm of one who would go much further. He did not just challenge; he declared his destiny.

  As he reached the edge of the Immortal Jade Peak courtyard, he felt Zhu Qinglan’s spiritual pressure surge, freeze, and then be forcibly withdrawn. The woman was on the verge of exploding, but Ancient Clan self-control bound her. Zhi Xuan smiled coldly; this victory felt sweeter than the victory over Xu Sheng.

  WHUSH!

  Zhi Xuan carved a spatial rune at his feet, vanishing into a thin shadow, returning to the silent Heaven Sword Peak. He did not wish to linger in that tigress’s territory, especially after he had successfully pierced her elegance. In the Immortal Jade Pavilion, the atmosphere felt suffocating. Zhu Qinglan sat stiffly, her eyes staring sharply at the small golden-brown statue now standing on the jade table, beside the spiritual map scroll Zhi Xuan had taken.

  That small statue, which had just been dripped with Zhi Xuan’s spiritual blood, radiated subtle energy fluctuations, almost invisible, a simple yet effective tracking rune. It was not a tracker; it was a final statement, a reminder that his departure would not be without consequences. Mei and Ling'er, the two maidservants, looked at each other, their eyes filled with deep shock and fear. They had witnessed their Holy Maiden’s elegance eroded, her face flushing with shame and suppressed rage.

  "Holy Maiden Zhu," Mei whispered, her voice filled with genuine concern, "A-are you alright? That wild Devil—"

  Zhu Qinglan raised her right hand, stopping Mei even before the words were finished. The movement was tiny, yet carried the weight of the Zhu Clan’s Supreme Law, forcing the two servants to bow in a respectful silence. Her face, now returned to being frozen and stainless, radiated a terrifying elegance. There was no longer a red flush; only a layer of pure ice enveloped her aura.

  She did not answer Mei’s question. Her eyes were fixed on the small statue of the man on the table. The statue, made of wood she did not recognize, radiated a faint spiritual essence aura, pulsing with a slow and steady rhythm, like a distant heartbeat. It was the most primitive life talisman, a cynical acknowledgment of the danger he would face, yet delivered with final arrogance. I challenge fate, and if I die, you will know.

  Zhu Qinglan took a long spiritual breath, the Law of Water around her spinning slowly, extinguishing the remaining ripples of emotion. The silence in the pavilion now felt heavier than the roar of thunder, the silence after an intense emotional storm. She shifted her gaze from the statue and directed it toward Ling'er and Mei.

  "The two of you," Zhu Qinglan hissed, her voice returning to a calm tone, yet cold and absolute. "Forget what you just heard. There is no promise, no husband, no tigress. Only a mission to the Divine Stone Mine. That man is merely a tool necessary to achieve the Ancient Clan’s will."

  Despite her words of cold denial, her delicate hand slowly reached out to the table, not to touch the statue, but to encircle an ancient book made of jade that had been covered by the dust of history. The book was the Guide to Heaven and Earth Formations, a sacred text allowed to be viewed only by the Supreme Elders and the Holy Princess of the Zhu Clan.

  "Mei, you will immediately send a message to Sky Cloud Peak," Zhu Qinglan ordered, her eyes radiating sharp calculation. "Tell Elder Yan Shen that Disciple Xu Sheng is under strict supervision. He has committed a Dao error and requires immediate recovery. No visits or interruptions. If he violates this, the punishment is exile."