The Realm Blood War, the sixth month.
The long meat-grinder war had finally exhausted the last bit of patience and foundations of both the righteous and demonic paths.
Rumors of peace talks began to secretly circulate among the higher-ups of both sides.
No one could fight anymore.
If they continued fighting, the cultivation world of this province would face the danger of a lost generation.
The day Shen Fei learned this news, he was sitting in the tent of the Lingxiao Pavilion, wiping his longsword.
He looked at the dried blood on the blade, his eyes calm.
A ceasefire was coming.
This meant that the days of unrestrainedly absorbing the origins of prodigies on the battlefield were about to end.
"Since it's going to end."
Shen Fei sheathed his longsword, making a crisp metallic clatter.
"Then I'll have a full meal before leaving."
That night.
Shen Fei, using the identity of the "Dark Night Demon Lord", infiltrated the demonic cultivator camp for the last time.
Inside Hanya's tent.
Shen Fei threw a jade slip onto the stone table.
"This is the righteous alliance's final trump card."
Shen Fei's voice was hoarse and cold.
"Three days later, Falling Star Plain. The righteous path will throw in all their remaining Nascent Soul stage combat power, attempting to strike a great victory before the peace talks to increase their bargaining chips."
Hanya stood up abruptly, his eyes erupting with fanatical fighting intent.
"A decisive battle at Falling Star Plain? Good! As long as we swallow this batch of the righteous path's main force, the terms of the peace talks will be dictated by our demonic path!"
Hanya looked at Shen Fei, his tone carrying unconcealed ambition.
"Demon Lord, if we can completely annihilate the righteous path's main force this time, I, Hanya, will definitely reach the summit as the leader of the demonic path! When that time comes, I will allow your Net faction to expand across the entire realm!"
Shen Fei looked at him.
The eyes behind the mask looked as if they were looking at a dead man.
"Go prepare."
Shen Fei turned and left.
"Bring all the elites of the demonic cultivators. This is the final feast."
Leaving the demonic cultivator camp.
Shen Fei did not return to the righteous alliance.
He rushed overnight to Falling Star Plain.
This vast plain was about to become the final burial ground for both the righteous and demonic paths.
Shen Fei spent two whole days.
In the core area of the Falling Star Plain battlefield, and on the inevitable paths of retreat for both sides.
He silently set up eleven concealed luck harvesting formations.
These formations had no offensive power whatsoever.
Their only function was to act like water pumps, forcibly gathering the origins and luck of those cultivators who had just died in battle and had not yet dissipated, and transmitting them to the core of the formation.
Which was where Shen Fei was located.
The third day.
Morning.
The decisive battle of Falling Star Plain broke out.
This was the most intense and terrifying slaughter in the entire Realm Blood War, with the most combat power invested.
There was no probing, no formations.
The moment both sides made contact, it was an apocalyptic bombardment of spells and close-quarters combat.
The sky was dyed an eerie purplish-red by the light of magical treasures and blood.
Shen Fei, wearing the battle robe of the Lingxiao Pavilion, charged at the very front as the captain of the righteous path's assault squad.
But he didn't go to kill demonic cultivators as usual.
He was like a ghost, shuttling through the most chaotic center of the battlefield where casualties were the heaviest.
"Boom!"
A Holy Son of the Heavenly Sword Sect from the righteous path, besieged by three demonic cultivators, self-detonated his Nascent Soul.
The violent energy instantly blew the surrounding demonic cultivators to pieces.
The pure yang origin and luck of the Heavenly Sword Sect's Holy Son began to dissipate at the moment of the self-detonation.
But.
Before these energies could merge into heaven and earth.
Shen Fei had already appeared at the edge of the explosion.
The first harvesting formation beneath his feet silently activated.
"Hiss—"
That massive ball of pure yang origin was forcibly pulled by the formation and surged directly into Shen Fei's body.
Shen Fei closed his eyes, feeling his cultivation level climbing.
He didn't stay, immediately rushing to the next harvesting point.
The entire Falling Star Plain had become Shen Fei's private buffet.
When a righteous path prodigy died, he absorbed them.
When a demonic path Holy Son died, he absorbed them too.
Eleven harvesting formations, like eleven greedy black holes, crazily devoured the foundations of those fallen geniuses in every corner of the battlefield.
The war lasted for a whole day and night.
Both sides fought until they were completely exhausted.
In the center of the battlefield.
Hanya was covered in blood, the white bone scythe in his hand broken into two pieces.
Around him lay the corpses of seven or eight Nascent Soul stage elders of the righteous path.
But he himself was also at the end of his rope.
"Exhilarating! Hahahaha!"
Hanya laughed wildly; although heavily injured, his eyes were full of the madness of victory.
The main force of the righteous path had been wiped out by him.
In this decisive battle, the demonic path had won!
He, Hanya, would become the new king of the demonic path!
Right at this moment.
A moon-white figure, carrying a longsword, slowly walked up to him.
Chu Yuan.
Hanya looked at this legendary figure of the righteous alliance before him and sneered.
"Chu Yuan, you're late. The righteous path has already lost."
Hanya forced himself to raise the broken scythe.
"Today, I will take your head to pay tribute to the heroic spirits of my demonic path!"
Shen Fei looked at Hanya.
He didn't draw his sword.
Instead, he slowly raised his left hand.
Right in front of Hanya.
Shen Fei slowly tore off the Thousand Illusions Mask belonging to Chu Yuan from his face.
Revealing a cold, profound face.
At the same time.
That pure righteous path aura on his body instantly vanished without a trace.
Replaced by.
A terrifying, domineering dark gold Heavenly Demon spiritual power that was a hundred times more fearsome than the blood fiend aura on Hanya's body!
The wild laughter on Hanya's face instantly froze.
His pupils violently contracted, staring dead at the face before him, feeling that familiar demonic might that made his soul tremble.
"You... you are..."
Hanya's voice trembled uncontrollably.
"Dark Night... Demon Lord?!"
He couldn't possibly connect the most dazzling prodigy of the righteous path, Chu Yuan, with that mysterious and unfathomable demonic cultivator overlord!
This was impossible!
"Very surprised?"
Shen Fei looked at Hanya, his voice returning to its original coldness.
"I said, this is just taking what we each need."
"You used my intelligence to wipe out the main force of the righteous path."
"Now."
Shen Fei took a step forward.
"It's my turn to harvest you all."
Hanya was completely in despair.
He finally understood that from beginning to end, he was just a chess piece in this man's hands.
A war sweeping across the entire realm.
Was actually just a hunting ground he used to raise Gu and harvest origins!
"You madman! You played both the righteous and demonic paths!"
Hanya roared hoarsely, wanting to self-detonate his Nascent Soul to perish together with Shen Fei.
But Shen Fei didn't give him the chance at all.
"Heavenly Demon Devour."
Shen Fei slapped his palm on the top of Hanya's head.
A terrifying black vortex instantly erupted.
Hanya's late-stage Nascent Soul demonic path origin, along with all his ambition and despair, was completely swallowed clean by Shen Fei in one gulp.
Hanya's corpse turned to ash, dissipating in the wind.
Shen Fei stood in the center of the battlefield of mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
He closed his eyes.
The massive energy transmitted from the eleven harvesting formations, plus Hanya's Nascent Soul origin.
Gathered into a torrent within his body capable of destroying heaven and earth.
The barrier of the late Nascent Soul stage.
The barrier of the perfect Nascent Soul stage.
Under the scouring of this torrent, like paper, they shattered one after another!
"Rumble!!!"
A terrifying pressure to the extreme shot up into the sky from Shen Fei's body!
Directly tearing apart the blood-colored clouds above Falling Star Plain!
This oppressive aura had completely surpassed the realm of the Nascent Soul stage.
It carried a grand presence capable of controlling the laws of heaven and earth.
Soul Formation stage!
On the final day of the war, Shen Fei had stepped upon the corpses of countless geniuses from both the righteous and demonic paths.
He had forcefully pushed his cultivation base to the early Soul Formation stage!
The system's cold notification sound rang in his mind:
[Ding!]
[Breakthrough to the early Soul Formation stage!]
[Heavenly Demon Body advanced to SSS rank!]
[Heaven-Swallowing Demonic Art has completed its final evolution for the current stage!]
Shen Fei slowly opened his eyes.
Those pitch-black eyes seemed to contain an endless abyss.
He felt the terrifying power within his body, a power capable of destroying mountains and rivers with a mere gesture.
He looked down at Chu Yuan's Thousand Illusions Mask in his hand.
And the token of the Dark Night Demon Lord in his robes.
The war was over.
These two identities had lost their value.
A cluster of black demonic fire ignited at Shen Fei's fingertips, reducing the mask and token to ashes.
He turned around.
Looking at the devastated Falling Star Plains.
"Peace talks between the righteous and demonic factions?"
A cold, cruel smile crept onto the corners of Shen Fei's mouth.
"When you find out that your absolute best geniuses and holy sons have all been devoured clean by me alone."
"Let's see how you talk then."
Shen Fei did not return to either faction's camp.
He transformed into a streak of black light and disappeared into the horizon.
He knew.
The moment the truth came to light.
He would no longer face mere, petty pursuits.
Instead, it would be a joint siege by all the Soul Formation old monsters in the entire realm.
An enemy of the whole world.
But this was exactly what he wanted.
The throne of a villain had always been built upon the white bones of the entire world.

rowess are unmatched, commanding a million-strong army! Yet, the Emperor wants to depose him for the sake of a false prince? Hold on, are you throwing me into some female-oriented romance plot? How can I tolerate this? With a grand wave of his hand—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! Slander the Emperor? Very well, all of you shall die! ... The False Prince: "Although I am not the biological son, Father and Mother love me more. The throne should be mine!" The Female Lead: "Qin Xiao, you are the Emperor, and I am a commoner. If you wish to marry me, you must abdicate. Otherwise, you will never have me!" The Empress: "After we divorce, you must give me half the empire!" The Transmigrator Consort: "You worthless Emperor, why should I kneel to you? All men are equal—I advise you to be kind!" The Great General: "The enemy general is my childhood sweetheart. For her sake, I willingly abandon the frontier defenses!" The Retired Emperor: "Although Yu'er was adopted, I prefer him. Qin Xiao, you should abdicate and let him become Emperor!" ... Very well! So this is how you want to play? Facing this twisted world of female-oriented tropes, Qin Xiao grins and raises his hand to unleash—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! I am the Emperor. Why would I bother reasoning with you? Seal the gates! Leave none alive!

end. Thus one must continue to cultivate, and become a saint or great emperor, in order to prolong one's life. Chen Xia, however, completely reversed this. Since his transmigration, he has gained immortality, and also a system that awards him with attribute points for every year he lives. Thus between the myriad worlds, the legend of an unparalleled senior appeared. "A gentleman takes revenge; it is never too late even after ten thousand years." "When you were at your peak I yielded, now in your old age I shall trample on you." - Chen Xia

transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”

e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.