The first rays of dawn sliced through the thick mountain mist, casting golden lines across the blackened peaks. The lonely mountain—once an abandoned fortress—now pulsed with spiritual energy and life. What had once been a remote stronghold was now the heart of something new, something terrifying.
Xuan Long stood atop the cliff, his robe fluttering in the breeze, arms folded behind his back. His sharp eyes gazed down upon the bustling base below, where thousands of cultivators moved in formation, trained in martial arts, refined pills, and forged puppets. Rows of chambers glowed faintly, infused with the power of the Spiritual River.
This was no longer a group of survivors or rebels.
It was a dominion.
A rising empire.
He turned slightly, sensing Hei Mo's presence behind him.
"From now on," Xuan Long said, voice calm but brimming with command, "you will teach puppet crafting to the subordinates. Let them create their own puppets, bind them with their soul threads. They must learn to spy, to scout, to kill from the shadows."
Hei Mo bowed deeply. "Yes, Master. I will create the finest division of puppet warriors this world has ever seen."
Xuan Long's gaze then shifted to the two demi-human warriors kneeling on the stone path, their bodies still bearing old scars, their beast-like eyes locked on him with reverence.
"You two… your fangs and claws are not enough. From today, you belong to the Illusion and Curse Division. Learn the forbidden arts. Weave nightmares into your enemies' minds. Become blades that strike from the unseen world."
The two warriors bowed, their voices a growl of absolute loyalty. "As you command."
While the Shadow Army trained and grew, far beyond the mountain, chaos unfurled its wings.
The news of the Heavenly Flying Sect's destruction had exploded like a thunderclap across the cultivation world. First came whispers. Then rumors. Then fear.
And with fear came fury.
In hidden palaces and sacred meeting halls, the elders of the Four Great Sects gathered under banners of war.
Thousand Sword Pavilion, masters of devastating sword intent.
Nine Phoenix Valley, rulers of fire and illusion.
Stormbreaker Hall, known for raw elemental destruction.
Eternal Sky Sect, guardians of ancient formations and divine will.
Their meeting was tense. The air itself seemed heavy with killing intent.
"A single youth razed an entire sect," one elder hissed, clutching a shattered jade slip. "Our disciples are terrified. Our reputation is crumbling."
"He's a demonic cultivator," another growled. "And worse—he's organized. He doesn't just destroy. He builds."
"A threat to the balance of this world," the leader of Eternal Sky Sect said gravely. "He must be erased—before he becomes unstoppable."
Thus, an alliance of destruction was born. And at its heart was one shared target: Xuan Long.
Meanwhile, in a desolate province bordering the Shadow Army's territory, a dark caravan moved silently through the forests. Covered wagons filled with chained men, women, and even spiritual beasts creaked along the roads. Their captors—traffickers from the Shadow Leech Guild—laughed cruelly as they pushed innocent villagers toward slavery.
But that night, as the stars glimmered above, something descended from the sky.
A Blood Puppet—eyes glowing crimson, its skin etched with forbidden runes—fell upon the slavers like death itself. Its fists shattered bones, its claws tore through barriers. The screams were brief. The massacre complete in moments.
The puppet knelt before Xuan Long by midnight, its voice mechanical and chilling.
"Master. Source of the trafficking confirmed. The Shadow Leech Guild. Operating in five provinces. Over ten branches. Their leaders profit from the pain of innocents."
Xuan Long's eyes glowed with fury. "They're not worthy of my time. Go. End them all."
"Yes, Master."
While death rained on the guilty, inside the cultivation fortress, Mu Chen sat cross-legged within his chamber. Spiritual fog swirled violently around him. His veins glowed with a golden-green hue, and his body shook as immense qi flooded his meridians. He had already absorbed multiple high-grade pills, and the current from the Spiritual River pulsed into him like a second heart.
Suddenly—Boom!
A wave of spiritual pressure exploded outward.
His realm broke through: Core Formation 2… 3… 4… 5!
The walls trembled. Cracks formed on the ground beneath him. His aura lit up the entire sector of the base.
When Hei Mo arrived moments later, his eyes widened in shock.
Mu Chen stood calmly, his robes flowing, his aura even denser than before.
"You surpassed Hei Mo?" Xuan Long asked, stepping inside, brows raised.
Mu Chen knelt. "Yes, Master. With these resources, this spiritual pool, and our will… we can surpass all sects in history."
Xuan Long smiled faintly. "Then that's what we'll do."
Throughout the base, breakthroughs occurred every hour.
Qi Condensation to Foundation. Foundation to Core Formation.
The Shadow Army evolved. What once took years of closed-door cultivation, now took days.
The fortress trembled with power, as if it were alive—hungering for dominance.
At dusk, Hei Mo returned from his mission. His armor was bloodstained, his body weary, but his expression calm.
He knelt before Xuan Long. "All ten branches of the Shadow Leech Guild have been destroyed. The captives have been rescued and brought to safety. None were harmed further."
Xuan Long nodded approvingly—but something strange began to occur.
Hei Mo's body trembled. Not from exhaustion—but from a sudden, overwhelming surge of energy.
Bright golden lines bloomed beneath his feet—patterns of celestial lotus formations. From his back, nine glowing lotus petals unfolded, each radiating divine energy.
He gasped, eyes wide. "Lotus…?"
Around him, several elite subordinates also began to glow—each manifesting five lotus petals.
The air became thick with sacred energy.
Mu Chen arrived just in time to witness the phenomenon. He froze in shock.
"That's… Lotus Bloom…! It's a sign of righteous cultivation! Only those with pure intentions and unshakable loyalty can manifest such blooms!"
"But we… we walk the demonic path…" one subordinate murmured, bewildered.
Xuan Long stepped forward slowly, eyes fixed on the glowing petals.
"It's not about the path… but the heart."
The aura wasn't purely righteous—nor demonic. It was both.
A harmony between shadow and light.
Loyalty given freely.
Bloodshed, yes—but with purpose. With protection. With meaning.
He placed a hand on Hei Mo's shoulder.
"This… is evolution."
Hei Mo's breath trembled.
"I feel… strength flowing into me. A force unlike any before."
"You are ten times stronger now," Xuan Long said softly. "But more than that—you have created something even the righteous cultivators will fear."
Hei Mo knelt once more, his body now glowing faintly.
"It is all because of you, Master. I would give my life for you. I fight… for you. Now and forever."
Xuan Long looked over his fortress, his people, and the distant stars.
A storm was coming. The righteous alliance was gathering.
But his army was no longer bound by shadows.
They were becoming legends.
And legends… do not die easily.