The Battle of the Shadow Members

Qin Luo had been pondering how to swiftly unify the entire Eastern Kingdom.

Taking direct action, as he had done in Illusory Star City, was certainly an option.

But that approach would be far too time-consuming.

After all...

The fortunes of the "Chosen Ones" were unpredictable—an uncontrollable variable beyond his grasp.

Even if he and Su Muwan were to eliminate them one by one, severing their threads of fate and bonds along the way,

the world's corrective forces might still twist events into unforeseen directions.

Thus, Qin Luo decided to exclude Su Muwan from this operation.

Instead, he would leverage the uniqueness of his own identity to nullify the most extraordinary abilities of the Chosen Ones.

Under the cover of night, Qin Luo's combat prowess multiplied a hundredfold.

Once the Chosen Ones were dealt with, subjugating these cities would be as easy as flipping his hand.

Very well... let this be the inaugural mission for the members of the Shadow Faction.

Though, admittedly...

Qin Luo had a feeling the clever young mistress would probably beat him to a pulp once she found out he'd left her behind.

...

...

Ancient City.

Within the largest underground black market for antiques.

Hui Ming sat cross-legged at the center, ensconced in the phantom image of a sacred lotus, eight shadowy spider-legs interlacing behind his head to form a mandala array.

On the auction platform, a massive Buddha head cracked with web-like fissures.

"This artifact seems destined for me."

With a smile, he reached out—crack!

The Buddha head shattered, revealing a violet-gold alms bowl floating within.

With a beckoning motion, the bowl transformed into golden dust as it landed in his palm, its energy rippling before being absorbed into his body.

Closing his eyes, he reveled in the surging flow of Buddhist power within him.

This sensation... was truly sublime.

Senior Brother, if only you too would pledge yourself to Our King, you would surely attain divine power like ours.

What a pity...

Just as the thought crossed Hui Ming's mind—

BOOM!!!

The bronze cauldron in the southeast corner exploded without warning.

He turned his head.

There,

a masked youth burst forth from the wreckage, a sword in hand blazing with sky-scorching violet flames: "Demon-masked monk! Know that I am the foremost disciple under the Fire Cloud Throne of the Blazing Cloud Cave from the Profound Heaven Realm!"

Since childhood, this youth had been the most prodigious talent of the Blazing Cloud Cave.

First in cultivation, first in innate aptitude, even fortuitous encounters seemed to chase after him like stray dogs.

He had always believed himself the protagonist of this world. Today, he had merely accompanied his senior brothers to the black market, hoping to stumble upon some treasures.

Yet... out of nowhere, this eerie monk had launched an attack?!

At these words,

Hui Ming's pupils shimmered with golden swastikas.

Hum!

The shadows of the entire black market writhed to life, morphing into chains of sacred scripture.

"Amitabha."

Hui Ming calmly rolled his prayer beads between his fingers. "Our King has tasked me with suppressing this city. Your fortune, young benefactor, is indeed overwhelming."

"It seems... you are one of the Chosen Ones spoken of by Our King."

"Then..."

His gaze sharpened.

[Buddha-Demon's Delusion]

"You shall remain here."

As the youth froze in stunned confusion, Hui Ming's innate shadow power yanked him into an illusionary realm.

High above, Qin Luo chuckled and placed a game piece—the black market's grid on the chessboard below darkened instantly.

A wisp of golden fortune spiraled up Hui Ming's spider-legs, merging into the thread of fate pinched between Qin Luo's fingers before being snipped by his scissors with a crisp click.

Another Chosen One had fallen.

As the former abbot of his temple, Hui Ming's strength and talent remained extraordinary even after his conversion.

But on another part of the board...

Qin Luo's eyes drifted to a corner where a single black piece was being crushed beneath a cluster of white ones.

...

...

Xuan City.

The subway tunnels were already in ruins.

Thud... thud... thud...

Ning Duanlang's body was pinned against a support column by fragments of his own weapon, blood dripping from his cloud-patterned robes onto the platform.

A dozen cultivators stood in a Seven-Star formation, their artifacts resonating to form an Evil-Slaying Sword Array: "Fiend! Today marks your end!"

Fury burned in their eyes.

They had all been strangers—mere attendees of a grand martial tournament being held in Xuan City—until, by chance, they found themselves sharing the same hotel.

Then, not long ago, people around them began collapsing into comas one after another... and then...

Their gazes locked onto the masked figure impaled before them.

They had been ambushed by this very man.

Fortunately, his strength wasn't overwhelming. Though they had never met before,

some inexplicable force granted them seamless coordination, as if they'd fought together for years.

One swordsman gathered energy for a final strike: "Die, abomination!"

Ning Duanlang, meanwhile,

"My end?"

He licked blood from his lips as dark-gold light seeped from the gashes on his neck.

"You understand nothing..."

Rip!

Tearing open his robe, he revealed a sinister sigil pulsing over his heart, his voice tinged with madness.

"About true desperation!"

The sword array's radiance had already reached his forehead—

But in that instant, the entire subway station's atmospheric pressure spiked violently.

[Scale Reversal activated! Combat power ×10!]

Squelch!!

Flesh tore amidst a spray of blood.

To the group's horror,

Ning Duanlang had caught the blade mid-thrust with a vice-like grip.

"What?!"

The swordsman—a Chosen One—flinched.

Then—

Ning Duanlang's free hand shot out like lightning, slamming into the man's chest with devastating force.

BOOM!

"Guh—!"

The Chosen One was sent flying, smashing through a concrete wall before slumping unconscious.

"Chosen Ones can't be killed."

"Nor do they stay dead..."

Ning Duanlang muttered as he raised his right hand.

Whoosh!

Shards of metal and rubble coalesced into a ten-meter greatsword crackling with black lightning.

With a flicker, he vanished.

"He's gone!"

"Form defen—"

Too late.

A talisman-wielding girl barely had time to widen her eyes before the colossal blade descended.

Crunch!

Jade talisman and body split cleanly in two, arterial spray painting the air crimson.

Splat!

Flesh and bone scattered—only to be instantly devoured by shadowy tendrils for later use.

"One down."

His voice was glacial, detached, as if commenting on the weather.

Chosen Ones were inviolable, but the supporting cast? Perfect raw materials for Their King's grand design.

His silhouette blurred again, leaping onto floating wreckage before unleashing a horizontal slash.

Rip! Rip!

Three beastmasters and their spirit companions were diced mid-roar, their shrieks blending with the howls of dying magical beasts.

Amid the crimson rain, Ning Duanlang turned toward the survivors.

Three still bore the [Chosen One] marker above their heads.

High above, white pieces on the chessboard shattered in sequence.

Qin Luo toyed with the freshly harvested threads of fate before his scissors flashed.

"Three minutes left on Scale Reversal... enough to clean up."

"Heh... tonight's haul of fortune should keep the young mistress quite satisfied."