Zhi Xuan was stunned, a small ripple appearing in the middle of the calm lake of blood within his mind. The man's words—the cracked Divine Wheel—pierced the veil of Killing Intent surrounding him like a silver dagger cutting through the darkness.

  Memories almost buried beneath the pile of Slaughter Seals crawled upward; memories of crushing pain, of confusion, and of moments when he was merely a speck of dust beneath the giant feet of destiny.

  "You..." Zhi Xuan hissed, the red rings in his pupils trembling violently. He lowered the tip of the Heavenly Sword slightly, yet the muscles in his arms remained tense, ready to explode. "How do you know about the Cracked Wheel? Who are you, really?"

  The man in white robes did not answer immediately. He walked slowly among the scattered dry mummies, his pure white robe miraculously untouched by a single drop of the maroon blood pooling there. He stopped in front of a destroyed jade pillar, touching its rough surface with fingertips that seemed to glow.

  "The once-grand Heavenly Light, now merely a silent witness to greed that surpassed limits," the man said, his voice carrying a resonance that was both calming and soul-shaking. He turned slowly, staring at Zhi Xuan with clear eyes, as if the four hundred Slaughter Seals on the youth's body were merely passing dust. "Eternity cannot be forced, little shepherd. And you... you are proof that destruction is merely the beginning of something yet to be defined by the Heavens."

  Zhi Xuan felt a strange pressure; it was not a spiritual pressure weighing on his shoulders, but a pressure of existence that made his Killing Intent shrink. Inside his Sea of Consciousness, Ruo Xianxue stood tall, her double eyes narrowing sharply, while Ao Sheng and Xiao Die remained silent as if time for them had stopped.

  "Stop calling me a shepherd!" Zhi Xuan growled. His heavy steps created cracks in the ruined ground. "If you knew me in those days, then you should know that I am no longer a youth you can judge with beautiful words. State your purpose, or let this sword seek the answer!"

  The man chuckled softly, a laugh that sounded like the trickling of a spring in the middle of a parched field. "Still the same. Impulsive, yet sharp. I saw you when you were still crawling among the sheep, trying to mend the pieces of the Divine Wheel with your confusion. And now, I see you standing atop thousands of corpses, challenging the curse of the Heavens with the most heinous Demonic Law."

  He stepped closer, and miraculously, the Blood Corpses crawling wildly in the distance instantly froze, as if their cursed souls prostrated before an invisible authority.

  "You are truly impressive," the man continued, stopping exactly at the reach of the tip of Zhi Xuan's Heavenly Sword. "Back then you carried a shepherd's crook, now even an Immortal Artifact has become an extension of your intent."

  Zhi Xuan narrowed his eyes, restraining the trembling in his palm. He tried to grope through his deepest memories, searching for a shadow of this figure in the middle of the grasslands of his childhood or within the rustling winds of the Southern Continent. However, every time he tried to capture the man's identity, his Sea of Consciousness seemed to reject it, as if this man's existence was a secret deliberately erased by the Laws of the world.

  "This world is a chessboard for those with eyes to see," the man spoke softly, his eyes now staring straight at the pillar pattern on Zhi Xuan's forehead. "I did not come to judge you for this massacre. I came to seek Reincarnation. All my friends, when will Reincarnation arrive?"

  "Reincarnation?" Zhi Xuan's voice sounded lower, the red rings in his pupils slowly fading but not disappearing. "You ask about reincarnation in a place where souls are rejected by death? Look around you. They rise not because they are alive, but because they are not permitted to die."

  The man in white robes did not avert his gaze from the horizon of red mist. His thin smile carried an ancient sadness. "That is why I ask. Because in your hands, I see something different. You absorb their blood, you condense seals from their suffering. You do not merely kill, little shepherd... you harvest their karma."

  He stepped again, and every foothold seemed to purify the rotten soil beneath him. This man's aura was so stable, so majestic, that the contrast between himself and the Ruins of the Heavenly Light Sect felt like a pearl placed in black mud.

  "How many Slaughter Seals do you need to satisfy the thirst for this Dao?" the man asked suddenly, turning back toward Zhi Xuan. "Four hundred? A thousand? Or until you yourself become part of the cycle you slash?"

  Zhi Xuan snorted, his Heavenly Sword vibrating softly, emitting a resonance with the pillar pattern on his forehead. "I do not seek satisfaction. I seek the strength to no longer be a speck of dust you can observe from afar. Who are you, really? No mortal can walk here without the protection of spiritual essence."

  "I am someone who has waited too long for the river of time to stop flowing blood," the man answered cryptically. He raised his hand, and suddenly the blood mist in the valley swirled, forming an orderly vortex around his fingers. "Long ago, I saw you bringing those sheep home before the wolves arrived. Now, the wolf is you."

  "A wolf has no choice but to prey if it wishes to survive beneath these cruel heavens," Zhi Xuan countered, his voice returning to a flat, cold tone, trying to cover the storm of emotions raging within. "And those sheep... they never truly returned home. They only moved from one pen to another until it was time to be slaughtered."

  The man in white robes let the vortex of blood mist vanish, returning to silent red particles. He observed Zhi Xuan's Heavenly Sword with a look that was almost like longing. "You talk of destiny as if you have seen its end. But, look at yourself now."

  The man in white robes waved his hand, and in an instant, Zhi Xuan's surroundings seemed to change; the man in white formed a mini-realm with just a wave of his hand. The sky that was originally dark turned as bright as dawn, and a spread of flowers with a peaceful and calm aroma suddenly burst forth.

  Zhi Xuan just stood still in the middle of the field of flowers, his face frozen and transfixed by the sight that contrasted so sharply with his condition, covered in blood with his left hand darkened, a demonic claw appearing in contrast to his right arm, as if half a demon was swallowing him.

  He stared at the palm of his left hand which now looked hideous; black nails sharpened like dull daggers, prominent veins pulsing with a deep purple color, and an aura of death that seemed to crawl up to his shoulder. In this bright world, under the dawn sky created by the man, his figure appeared like a black ink stain marring a sacred painting.

  "What... is this?" Zhi Xuan hissed hoarsely, raising his dark hand and touching his face, his eyes widening in genuine shock as he felt the dark claw sweep across his cheek.

  "Look at yourself, little shepherd," the man in white robes' voice shifted into a whisper that filled every corner of the mini-realm. "You stand upon a field of flowers, yet your feet leave only tracks of death. You touch your own face, yet all you feel is a claw ready to rip."

  Zhi Xuan staggered, the demonic claw on his left hand trembling violently as he stared at the flowers that began to wither at every step. The contrast created by this man was not merely an illusion of scenery, but a mirror of his soul's condition, which had now been forged by four hundred Slaughter Seals and the Path he had traveled from the beginning.

  "This is not me..." Zhi Xuan murmured, his voice breaking, contradicting the moral void he had built for days. "I am doing this for... for a purpose, I want to keep moving forward."

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  "Purpose?" The man stepped closer, the flowers beneath his white robe blooming more beautifully as if welcoming the creator of light. "Purpose is merely a piece of cloth covering eyes that refuse to see the truth. You tread the path, yet you surrender your humanity as fuel. Is the Emperor you long for an Emperor who reigns atop a pile of dry mummies without a soul left?"

  Zhi Xuan groaned, a burning pain spreading from the base of his black claw toward his heart. The Demonic Seed in his Sea of Consciousness, previously suppressed by Ruo Xianxue, now writhed wildly in response to the provocation of light in this secret realm. The pillar pattern on his forehead emitted a black steam that grew denser, fighting against the bright dawn.

  "You have no right to judge me!" Zhi Xuan roared. He swung the Heavenly Sword, but the blade of the immortal artifact felt so heavy, as if he were trying to swing the entire mountain of karma he had collected. "The Heavens gave me no other way! In my whole life, there was only darkness and unanswered questions! Where were the Heavens when I survived in the midst of blood? Where was this dawn light when I crawled in the mud of humiliation?"

  In the blink of an eye and unbeknownst to Zhi Xuan, the floating spiritual body of Ruo Xianxue appeared beside him. With her nine dark tails, her double pupils of the Sun and Moon stared coldly at the man in white robes, radiating not a direct threat but a sharp gaze of recognition and thousands of years of will.

  "You, I have seen you," Ruo Xianxue began calmly, her presence intersecting with the man in white. "You are the one who gave that Scroll of Four Seasons, giving the Heavenly Path to him at that time."

  The man in white robes turned his gaze from Zhi Xuan toward Ruo Xianxue. His smile did not fade; instead, it deepened, as if he had just met an old friend who had traveled thousands of miles. He bowed slightly in recognition of Ruo Xianxue's majesty.

  "Dark Fox of the past," the man greeted, his voice remaining soft even while facing Ruo Xianxue's suffocating ancient aura. "I did not expect to have the chance to meet a Great figure of the past; you truly have awakened from that Nine Heavens Bead."

  Ruo Xianxue snorted, her cold laughter echoing like the chime of a cracked silver bell. Her nine tails fluttered gently, cutting through the man's artificial dawn with lines of absolute darkness. "Do not use those polite words with me, astral being. You reside in the upper realm, yet your soul is fragmented until it fell to this lower realm. Your hand has too often interfered in turning the wheel of this boy's fate."

  Zhi Xuan, who was still transfixed staring at the demonic claw on his left hand, felt as if his world was collapsing and being rebuilt simultaneously. The names spoken—the Scroll of the Four Seasons that became the foundation of his Heavenly Samsara Wheel, the Nine Heavens Bead that became the previous shackle for the Ancient Demonic Monument—felt like keys trying to unlock forbidden doors in his deepest memories.

  The man in white robes fell silent for a moment, letting his artificial dawn wind brush his sacred robe. He looked at Ruo Xianxue with a glint in his eyes that was hard to interpret—a mixture of respect and endless sadness.

  "Interfered?" the man whispered, his voice now sounding like an echo from a distant future. "I only placed a seed in parched soil. Whether it will grow into a sacred tree sheltering the world, or become a thorny thicket entangling the neck of the Heavens, that is his own will. I did not give strength; I only returned what he should have possessed before destiny snatched it away."

  Zhi Xuan raised his head, his breath hitching. The black steam from his forehead began to fade, but the demonic claw on his left hand instead hardened, as if the words he had just heard had locked that form into his flesh. He did not understand why his hand had suddenly turned into this.

  "Returning what I should have possessed?" Zhi Xuan repeated those words with a tone full of the poison of doubt. "What do you mean? Were you the one who hid the truth about my Divine Wheel? Were you the one observing every drop of blood spilled from my wounds since I started walking this path of cultivation?"

  The man stepped forward, now only a finger's breadth away from the tip of Zhi Xuan's nose. He paid no mind to the Heavenly Sword still held stiffly. His glowing hand rose, slowly approaching the pillar pattern on Zhi Xuan's forehead.

  "You are not just a poor shepherd, Zhi Xuan. You are the wrong answer to the right question," the man said softly. "You possess the inherited memory of the Ancient Heavens, yet within you, you carry the conflicting blood of the Ancient Demon. Two Ancient Clans in one body."

  "No," the man continued as if finding an opening again, he pulled his finger down and pointed directly at Zhi Xuan's eye; the man's eyes turned into purple spirals. "The Heavenly God still slumbering in the Nine Heavens Bead is of the Ancient God Clan. When he awakens, you will have three Ancient Races within your body."

  A suffocating silence followed the man's words. The mini-realm that was previously bright with peaceful flowers suddenly shook violently as if the foundation of reality was cracking under the weight of the information just uttered.

  Zhi Xuan felt his heart stop beating for a moment. Three Ancient Races in one mortal body? The idea was too insane for common sense to accept. He felt an unbearable turmoil within his body; the Ancient Demon blood hungry for destruction clashed with the majestic memories of the Ancient Heavens.

  Meanwhile, in the depths of his soul bead, the Nine Heavens Bead, a foreign presence the man called the Heavenly God—which Ruo Xianxue had once mentioned would awaken someday—began to pulse like a fetus waiting for its time to breathe the world's air.

  "Three Races... in one body?" Zhi Xuan whispered, his voice sounding like the cracking of ice on a silent mountain peak. He stared at his left hand in the form of a demonic claw, then turned to the Heavenly Sword still emitting a pure aura of the Heavens. The contradiction now felt real, burning his meridian paths with an unbearable heat.

  Ruo Xianxue, floating beside him, narrowed her double eyes. Her nine dark tails extended, forming a barrier between Zhi Xuan and the man in white robes. "You talk too much, astral being," Ruo Xianxue hissed, her aura exploding, trying to collapse the secret realm created by the man. "The secret of the Heavenly God within the Nine Heavens Bead is not as simple as what he knows."

  The man in white robes did not flinch in the face of Ruo Xianxue's anger. His eyes with the purple spirals remained fixed on Zhi Xuan's pupils, as if he were reading the lines of fate written behind the youth's membranes.

  "The Forbidden Lands do not wait for time," the man replied in a very calm tone, yet one containing undeniable authority. "He has no time to slowly understand his identity. The Heavens above are in turmoil, and shadows from the past are beginning to swallow the present. The Calamity of Heaven and Hell will arrive once more."

  Zhi Xuan suddenly felt as if his head were exploding. Fragments of foreign memories—scenes of war above the clouds, millions of swords falling from the horizon, and the roar of a giant nameless creature—invaded his Sea of Consciousness. He fell to his knees on the field of flowers, clutching his head with his still-human right hand and his demonic claw left hand.

  "Ugh... AAAARGH!" Zhi Xuan's roar broke the false peace of the secret realm. The pillar pattern on his forehead no longer just emitted black steam but began to radiate a sharp golden light, competing with the blood-red color of the four hundred Slaughter Seals.

  Zhi Xuan was still roaring, his chest heaving with ragged breath like a cornered beast. The demonic claw on his left hand grew longer, black scales beginning to crawl up to his neck, while his right eye, which was originally sapphire, now emitted a pure and majestic golden light—the eye of a God starting to open his eyelids after millions of years of sleep.

  The struggle between the three powers within Zhi Xuan's body created a storm of energy that was invisible yet capable of shaking the foundation of the secret realm created by the man in white robes. The flowers that originally bloomed beautifully were now burned by the black demonic fire and simultaneously frozen by the cold golden aura of a god.

  "Enough... STOP IT!" Zhi Xuan slammed his left clawed hand into the ground. The explosion of energy produced was no longer a physical explosion, but a shockwave of karma that collapsed the illusion of that dawn realm. The field of flowers cracked, the bright sky peeling away like old paint, revealing once again the rotten Ruins of the Heavenly Light Sect and the thick red mist.

  Ruo Xianxue growled, her nine tails fluttering wildly trying to stabilize Zhi Xuan's Sea of Consciousness which was on the brink of destruction. "Enough!" she shouted at the man in white robes, moving her hands quickly, chanting a protection seal around Zhi Xuan's soul that immediately locked Zhi Xuan's body back at that very moment.

  Whump! Whump! Whush!

  The protection seal released by Ruo Xianxue hit the center of the storm within Zhi Xuan's body with a force equivalent to a star-crusher. The golden light from his right eye instantly dimmed, forced to be pulled back into the Nine Heavens Bead by invisible chains woven by the Dark Fox.

  Zhi Xuan slumped, his chest hitting the jade debris soaked in maroon blood. The demonic claw on his left hand shrank slowly, leaving behind a throbbing pain as if his skin had just been forcibly stitched by needles of fire. He panted, cold sweat mixing with the dust of the ruins wetting his pale face.

  The man in white robes still stood there, not flinching in the slightest by the explosion of karma that had just occurred. The purple spirals in his eyes faded, returning to a clear gaze full of an annoying calmness. He observed the weakly lying Zhi Xuan with the gaze of an appraiser examining a valuable artifact that had just undergone a rough forging process.

  However, Ruo Xianxue did not give him a chance to speak. With a slashing wave of her tail, she launched a coil of tails toward the man in white robes. The Law of Supreme Darkness immediately swallowed the man in white until he seemed to vanish from sight, only a relieved, hoarse laugh heard before silence fell.