A wild dog is always a wild dog.

“Kill, kill, kill! Kill them both!”

“Kill them!”

“Lin Heming! Xie Gubai! You can’t hold out much longer! Surrender now, and we might leave you half a corpse!”

On a pitch-black rainy night, a torrential downpour poured down.

Nestled in a small forest in the mountains, a dilapidated courtyard blazed with flames, thick smoke billowing upward, adding more black to the already heavy clouds.

Countless battle cries surged from all directions, blades flashing and shadows stirring, murder lurking in every corner.

On this day, the demonic and orthodox paths gathered together.

All the renowned prodigies of the Central Plains had assembled here, unleashing an earth-shattering melee within this tiny mountain grove.

Outside the courtyard, heads lay piled like a river—each once a proud and peerless genius staggering an entire region, now mingled with mud and water, their bodies unclaimed.

But the slaughter within the courtyard raged on.

Two young men stood their ground. One, clad in a white robe, wielded his sword like a god. The other, in a cyan robe, struck with mountain-like fists, cradling a baby girl still swaddled in his arms. Harboring this burden and fighting two against many, they still managed to hold a delicate upper hand.

Blood spilled from their countless wounds, streaming down along the rain to form a small river on the ground. Yet their eyes still blazed with unwavering light.

A young man in a black robe clung weakly to the wall, barely able to stand at the corner of the battlefield.

Though unscathed, he was already terrified out of his wits.

At his feet lay a peerless prodigy—one of the demonic path’s candidate holy sons. He had long since died, abandoned like a stray dog, ignored by all.

The cyan-robed man, holding the baby girl, gave him a glance. The young man’s heart nearly stopped from fear. Luckily, the gaze swept past him without lingering.

“Lin Heming! Xie Gubai!

“Today is your death day! Surrender now, and we might grant you a whole corpse!” The last eight young prodigies on the field shouted in unison, their eyes cold and indifferent.

“Ha…!”

The cyan-robed man sneered, his gaze slowly sweeping across the faces of the eight, finally settling on a corner of the courtyard. There lay the bodies of two young men and a woman. The woman was delicate and beautiful; the man’s face was firm and stubborn, bearing a faint resemblance to the cyan-robed man himself.

Staring at the two fallen in a pool of blood, a flicker of grief finally passed through the cyan-robed man’s hardened eyes.

“I never expected the prestigious Central Plains to stoop to such underhanded tricks?”

“Hahaha!”

“What’s with that expression? Regret?”

“Whatever the means, the victor is king! Winning is all that matters! This is the path of struggle—blame your own naivety.”

A young man in a black robe burst into laughter, wild and arrogant.

“Senior Brother Lin… I’m sorry…”

The white-robed man, gripping his longsword, stood back-to-back with the cyan-robed one, his voice pained and his eyes full of guilt.

“It’s all my fault…”

“You’re wrong, Gubai.”

The cyan-robed man cut off his apology, clenching his fists as he coldly stared at the eight black-robed figures. “Never apologize for things you shouldn’t be responsible for. Never feel guilt for such things. Always know who your real enemy is.”

“It’s not you who’s wrong. It’s them.”

“Oh? Well said! Very well said!”

“Such brilliant words.”

A young man in black clapped, a sarcastic smirk curling his lips. “Too bad you’re about to die.”

“I never believed I would die here.”

The cyan-robed man tightened his fists. “Because I have yet to wipe out every last one of you!”

“Then let’s see you try!”

The eight figures attacked in unison, a dazzling array of divine abilities and magical arts bursting forth, blinding the young man in the corner. What happened next, he could no longer make out…

“Elder Mo?”

“Elder Mo?”

“Elder Mo!”

Abruptly interrupted by a loud shout from the steward, he was jolted back from that memory long past.

“What’s wrong with you? Zoning out at a time like this.”

Mo Yu said impatiently, “Everyone is watching. Don’t disgrace our Mo family.”

“Young Master… I was just remembering something.”

The steward’s voice trembled, the scenes of that year flooding his mind—the rainy night, the blood-soaked courtyard, and himself as the young man who had almost wet his pants in terror back then.

That incident had always been his heart demon.

Otherwise, with his talent and years of following the family head, he’d never have remained merely a Return to Void-stage cultivator.

“Something? What?”

Mo Yu frowned. “A common old man like this, and he still gets to you?”

He knew of Lin Heming, of course.

A Return to Void-stage cultivator could hold his own in the Eastern Wilderness, but in the Central Plains, he was nothing special. And in the original story, right after the Qing Xuan Sect was destroyed, he was killed off by the demonic path. Mo Yu genuinely couldn’t see what there was to fear.

“Young Master, you don’t understand.”

The steward, called Elder Mo, cautiously glanced at Lin Heming and whispered, “Do you know why the current holy land lords of the Central Plains haven’t retired yet, still holding on as old relics? Because that era’s golden generation was completely wiped out in a single massacre.”

“And the culprit is the one before your very eyes.”

“That impressive?”

Mo Yu froze for a moment, rubbing his chin.

He hadn’t expected this old man to have such a fearsome hidden background—but the problem was…

“Even if he was formidable back then, now he’s just a Return to Void-stage cultivator. A damaged foundation means he can never advance. What do you have to fear from him?” Mo Yu asked, puzzled.

“This… th-this, this…”

A single remark jolted Elder Mo awake.

That’s right.

No matter how strong Lin Heming had once been, that was all in the past. Now, he was nothing but an old, broken Return to Void cultivator, whereas Elder Mo himself was the steward of the future young master of the Mo family, a peak Return to Void-level cultivator with a cultivation base higher than the other’s!

And beyond that, the entire backing of the family stood behind him. What reason did he have to be afraid?

At that moment, enlightenment struck, and a burst of clarity bloomed.

Elder Mo felt his old shadow dissolve, the oppressive heart demon loosening, even as golden light thundered open.

With a crack, a wave of qi erupted.

Elder Mo’s aura swelled furiously, leaping from late Return to Void straight to peak Return to Void, half a step away from entering the Unity Stage.

“Th-that… a breakthrough just like that?”

Mo Yu was dumbfounded.

No wonder this was a cultivation world—the path started with the mind. When the spirit was clear and unimpeded, the cultivation could follow.

“Thank you for awakening me, Young Master.”

Elder Mo cupped his hands toward Mo Yu with deep gratitude, then turned around and strode toward the gate where Lin Heming stood, chest out and head high. One step forward, and the void trembled.

“Lin Heming, hand over the person the young master demands, and this old man might spare your life!”

At those words, Lin Heming shot Elder Mo a surprised look.

Then, in a flash, his form appeared right in front of Elder Mo. With a flick of his sleeve—

Bang!

Almost before Elder Mo could react, he exploded into a cloud of blood, without even a scream.

Silence fell over the whole scene.

Only Lin Heming casually flicked his hand and said coldly,

“Spare your life, and you don’t even know to cherish it?”