"Zhan Xianwang..." Zhi Xuan murmured, feeling the constriction in his chest loosen slightly, though his vigilance only sharpened. "You... are the god mentioned by the Great Saint?"

  Zhan Xianwang stroked the surface of the jade table, which had begun to crack under the collision of their auras. His majestic yet blurred figure stood in stark contrast to the grim ruins of the Bone City. He looked at Zhi Xuan with a gaze of pure gold that seemed capable of piercing through layers of time, not with hatred, but with a cold curiosity.

  "Correct," Zhan Xianwang replied, his voice now sounding like the chime of a heavenly bell that had rusted over. "I am he who dreamed of grasping the throne of the highest Heaven, only to end as ash in the River of Time, trapped within the Nine Heavens Bead, sharing space with a cunning fox."

  Zhi Xuan settled Mei Hua more comfortably in his lap, his arms remaining protectively around the little girl. "So, you appear in my secret realm not as a mere illusion, but because you can manifest yourself here?"

  Zhan Xianwang moved another white piece on the chessboard, this time with an exceedingly gentle motion. "Because this Secret Realm is a Mirror of the Dao. It reflects what lies within you and paints the image of my current self."

  He turned to look at Ruo Xianxue, his golden pupils curving slightly as he regarded the Great Saint who was his contemporary. "And perhaps the Fox of Darkness misses the man who once breached her Holy Land to steal the seed of the Supreme Law."

  Ruo Xianxue snorted, a cold laugh that was both disdainful and slightly melancholic escaping her ruby-red lips. "Steal? You came to the Nine Hells on your own feet, sneaked into my Holy Land, and..."

  Ruo Xianxue’s sentence abruptly cut off. The figure of the Great Saint, usually so dominant and unshakable, suddenly froze. Her pupils, a fusion of the Sun and Moon, trembled violently, while the nine tails of darkness behind her, once grand, now drooped, coiling around her own legs in an awkward motion. A faint blush—something impossible for a high-level devil entity—crept onto her ears and her neck, which was as white as alabaster.

  She turned her face away sharply, avoiding Zhan Xianwang’s golden gaze, which appeared increasingly playful. Ruo Xianxue bit her lower lip, her hands clenching so tightly that her nails turned white. "And... and you are nothing but a shameless thief! That is all that needs to be remembered!"

  Zhan Xianwang laughed softly, a sound like the crashing of waves on a calm sea. "Only that? Do you not wish to tell this boy how you chased me to the borders of the Western Heaven, not out of anger, but because that seed of law had..."

  "Silence! Or I will ensure the remnants of your soul truly rot inside that bead!" shrieked Ruo Xianxue, her voice shrill with a tone more akin to a girl's annoyance than a Great Saint's threat. Her majesty seemed to crumble, replaced by a very fragile aura of self-defense.

  Zhi Xuan was stunned witnessing this nonsensical sight. Before him, a Great Devil Saint capable of shaking the universe with a single wave of her hand was now acting like a girl whose heart’s secret had just been exposed in public. He glanced at Zhan Xianwang, then back to Ruo Xianxue, sensing a historical dimension never written in any ancient scripture.

  "You are curious, surely," Zhan Xianwang remarked as he turned his gaze toward Zhi Xuan, speaking with a tone full of bitterness. "We, in the past, did not possess emotions such as these; we only had ambition and desire. Until the disaster of the Fall of the Nine Heavens made us a bit more human, even allowing us to live within your soul because we possess a touch of mortality."

  Zhan Xianwang exhaled, a breath that triggered a faint golden glow in the air of the Bone City. "Once, we viewed the world as a chessboard and the laws as tools. But look now: the Great Saint feared by the entire afterlife can now blush over past memories, and I, the one who stepped toward the Heavenly Emperor, must sit on a rotting wooden chair to play chess with a youth bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders."

  Zhi Xuan fell silent for a moment, absorbing every word from the mouth of the entity that had once craved the highest throne. He felt the silence around him no longer as a threat, but as a void ready to be filled by the bitter wisdom of a perished age.

  "I understand," Zhi Xuan whispered while staring at the chessboard. "It is just that I feel I carry too much destiny. All of you are within my body; indirectly, your fates are also tied to mine."

  Zhan Xianwang looked at Zhi Xuan with an increasingly deep gaze, a thin smile etched on his face, which had now returned to the form of the hooded old man, as if he were deliberately dampening his majesty so as not to overwhelm the youth. "Your destiny is indeed complex, young man. Caught between destruction and creation, between devil and god, between a buried past and an unwritten future. Yes, our fates are tied to yours, like roots seeking new soil to grow."

  He then pointed toward the chessboard, where the pieces began to radiate different lights: a black as deep as an abyss, and a white as sharp as a heavenly sword. "Look at the white pieces you defeated. Why did you kill them for the Law of the Heavenly-Blood Body given by the Fox of Darkness?"

  Zhi Xuan stared at the white pieces he had removed from the board. Within the reflection of the white jade, he caught a glimpse of himself slaughtering his enemies, the blood flowing profusely, and the insatiable bloodlust that always accompanied the Heavenly-Blood Body technique.

  "That power is a weapon," Zhi Xuan replied flatly, though his heart trembled. "And in a world that only knows predators, I have no choice but to be the bloodiest among them."

  Zhan Xianwang smiled thinly, then pressed a white piece into the center of the board with a resounding Tuk! From there, Zhi Xuan’s eyes widened as he saw an image that suddenly pierced his soul: the image of the deaths of the Star Village residents, one by one, as Zhi Xuan stood in the midst of a savage slaughter.

  The clumps of black sand around the chess table suddenly solidified, turning into burning wooden walls and a stench of blood so pungent it made Zhi Xuan’s stomach churn. The Bone City had vanished, replaced by the sight of the Star Village shattered into pieces.

  Zhi Xuan was frozen. He saw the old grandfather who had once given him buns, now lying with a sword through his chest. He saw the thatched huts where he had grown up, now turned into charcoal blown by the wind.

  However, the most terrifying thing was the figure of himself within that vision; a youth with glowing red eyes, standing atop a pile of his enemies' corpses with a hollow laugh. It was he himself who killed his village, with his own hands and every splatter of blood.

  Zhi Xuan stood in the middle of a village street now muddy with a mixture of rain and blood. In his hand, he did not hold the majestic Heavenly Sword, but a broken iron blade that continuously dripped thick red liquid. He looked down, staring at his own trembling palms; his fingers were coated in flesh and bone fragments that were not his own.

  "No... this is not reality," Zhi Xuan whispered, his voice caught in his throat. Yet, before him, his other self—a youth with disheveled silver hair and eyes as red as pomegranates—was clutching the neck of an old man he knew very well.

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  The man was the village chief, who used to stroke his head and even taught him the meaning of cultivation for the first time. With one cold movement, the Zhi Xuan in the illusion snapped the chief’s neck, then laughed boisterously toward the blackened sky.

  A bone-chilling cold instantly crept up from the soles of Zhi Xuan’s feet to the crown of his head. His world seemed to flip; the gravity of the place suddenly vanished, leaving him standing frozen in the middle of a pool of blood that reflected the blood-red sky. The aroma of warm wheat cakes he used to smell in the mornings at Star Village was now replaced by the stench of corpses rotting under the heat of a fire devouring everything.

  "Why..." Zhi Xuan’s voice broke, trembling between his chattering teeth. "What have you done!"

  In front of him, the other 'Zhi Xuan'—the Silver-Haired Devil—released his grip on the village chief’s corpse. The lifeless old body fell with a heavy thud onto the muddy ground. The Devil turned, staring at Zhi Xuan with red pupils that held not a shred of humanity. Their faces were the same, but the souls within were two poles destroying each other.

  "Is this not what you wanted?" The Devil spoke, his voice sounding like a pile of cracking bones. "You wanted strength to protect, yet you embraced bloodlust as your teacher. You embraced slaughter, yet you are fragile when something you protect dies before you."

  The Devil stepped forward, each footfall on the bloody mud making a sickening squelching sound. He brought his face, smeared with the remnants of the villagers' lives, toward Zhi Xuan, grinning to reveal small fangs growing from the darkness of his soul.

  "Do you cry for them?" The Devil laughed, a parched, shrill sound echoing between the collapsed huts. "Look at your hands, Zhi Xuan. Do you think that blue cloth given by the ice fairy can hide the stench of your sins? You are the bringer of death. Everyone you love is fuel for the fire that burns you."

  Zhi Xuan felt his knees weaken. In his arms, he had almost forgotten he was still holding Mei Hua. He looked down in panic, afraid the little girl would see this hellish sight. However, as he loosened his robe, he was stunned.

  Mei Hua was not there. There was only the Lulu rag doll, which had now turned into a pile of rotting, maggot-infested flesh in his hands. Zhi Xuan screamed, throwing the object away in horror. He gasped, his chest feeling tight as if the entire atmosphere of the burning Star Village was trying to strangle him.

  "Mei Hua! Mei Hua, where are you?!" he cried out hysterically, his voice swallowed by the roar of the fire devouring his memories.

  "She never existed," Zhan Xianwang’s voice was heard again, but this time it felt exceedingly distant, echoing from all corners of the sky. "Or perhaps, she is merely the remnants of your conscience you tried to save in the middle of this ocean of blood. But look, in the face of your Dao’s truth, even that conscience rots."

  Zhi Xuan fell to his knees in the middle of the pool of blood. He covered his ears, trying to dampen the Devil’s laughter and the whispers of the cast-out God. However, from beneath the pool of blood at his feet, the hands of the dead villagers began to emerge. They grabbed Zhi Xuan’s ankles, pulling him with extraordinary strength, as if wanting to drag him into the belly of the earth filled with gravestones.

  "You killed us, Xuan-er..." whispered the village chief’s voice from within the mud. "You chose to become a devil rather than remain a weak human."

  "NO! I DID IT FOR REVENGE!" Zhi Xuan roared, slamming his fist into the ground, trying to free himself from the grip of those pale hands.

  "Revenge is a poison you drink yourself while hoping your enemy dies," the figure of Zhan Xianwang suddenly stood before him, still in the form of the hooded old man, yet radiating a judging golden glow. "You carry the Divine Furnace, you carry the weight of the earth, yet your soul is still tied to the time you were a golden foundation in this village."

  Zhi Xuan looked up, his eyes that were once clear sapphire now being overrun by wild red streaks. He tried to summon the Heavenly Sword, but his hand only grasped empty air. In this Mirror of the Dao, weapons were merely manifestations of will, and at this moment, Zhi Xuan’s will was shattered into pieces.

  "Silence! You know nothing of loss!" Zhi Xuan roared. He crawled away from the hands clutching his feet, but with every inch he moved, more corpses appeared from behind the ash.

  Zhi Xuan clutched his head, curling up like a mad youth. "Don't, I don't want this, I only wanted to protect my village, I only wanted to find my origins."

  The scene before Zhi Xuan began to spin in a sickening vortex. The blood-red sky seemed to collapse, pressing on his shoulders until he slumped onto the ground of Star Village which had become ash. In his ears, the screams of the villagers were no longer just sounds, but waves of real pain, piercing his meridians like thousands of ice needles.

  "Finding your origins?" The voice of the Silver-Haired Devil—the dark side of his own soul—was heard right behind his neck, cold and smelling of rust. "Look down, Zhi Xuan. Your origins are not in the stars, but inside this mud of blood."

  Zhi Xuan forced his eyes open. Beneath his palms, the ground that was once muddy now turned transparent like a clear jade mirror. Beneath that surface, he saw the image of himself as a baby, placed atop a cold stone altar under the pale moonlight.

  However, the baby did not cry; he laughed while around him, giant shadows with auras transcending the Heavens were spilling their blood onto that small body as an offering.

  "You were not born of love; you were born of a cursed sacrifice," whispered Zhan Xianwang, his voice now traveling through the vibrations of the Xuan-Huang Energy weighing heavily on Zhi Xuan’s back. "The Slaughter Seal... it did not choose you because you were special. It chose you because you were the most perfect empty vessel to contain the sins of the world."

  "Enough... Enough!" Zhi Xuan roared, slamming his head against the mirror ground until it cracked. Every crack released black smoke smelling of sulfur.

  Suddenly, in the midst of the chaos, a very fine, small chiming sound pierced through the noise of that hell. The sound was so clear, like the chime of water falling into a sacred pool in the middle of a peach forest. It was followed by a flash of red cloth embroidered with stars tightening around his left arm.

  The chime did not come from a sword or a heavenly bell, but the sound of his own hair brushing against snow jade. In the middle of the fire consuming Star Village and the screams of corpses demanding revenge, a speck of white light appeared—not blinding, yet capable of dispelling the shadow of the Silver-Haired Devil who had stood arrogantly before Zhi Xuan.

  "Light will still shine even when darkness comes," Zhi Xuan murmured calmly, his voice trembling yet steady as he rose from his curled position and sat cross-legged upon the ground. "An intent to kill, yet also not for killing."

  Instantly, a vortex of reddish light surged and glowed around Zhi Xuan. A wondrous thing happened: the houses that were previously destroyed and the villagers who were previously killed and became miserable corpses seemed to rise again with bright faces. The sky turned clear as the mist of slaughter that had suddenly settled vanished.

  "Slaughter Intent," Zhi Xuan murmured hoarsely, moving his trembling fingers to scrape for enlightenment within this illusion. "Accepting without regret, accepting without denial, accepting the consequence without accusing the cause."

  The atmosphere in Star Village suddenly froze in a majestic silence. The fire that had been licking the sky was now still, becoming a painting of orange light that no longer burned. The pale hands that had been clutching Zhi Xuan’s feet slowly loosened, then turned into peach blossom petals flying in a gentle breeze.

  Zhi Xuan sat cross-legged with his back as straight as a reef in the middle of the ocean. In his lap, the form of Mei Hua, who had briefly rotted along with Lulu, slowly solidified back into a little girl with skin as white as snow who was still sleeping peacefully. The dull Lulu returned to her embrace, radiating a jade-green glow that was now far more stable.

  "I am the sword, and I am also the wound it causes," Zhi Xuan said, his voice no longer trembling with fear, but resonating with deep, ancient authority. "If the Heavens want me to contain the darkness of the world, then I will become a night so vast that even the stars feel safe to shine within it. My slaughter is not for destruction, but to end every form of life to become a new beginning."

  The scene before Zhi Xuan began to fade like an ink painting washed by rain. The peaceful Star Village, the thatched huts, and the smiling faces of the villagers merged into golden light particles swirling around him. Slowly, the Bone City reformed, but this time its bone walls no longer radiated the coldness of death, but a peace from the remnants of history that had made peace with time.

  "Silence of Slaughter," Zhi Xuan murmured, opening his sapphire eyes which swirled with red circles. Around him, the air, which was already heavy with his physical presence alone, now felt like sword blades as the Slaughter Intent he had enlightened felt like it could extinguish someone's life even from his aura alone.

  Zhan Xianwang, sitting across from him, was stunned. The white piece he had just moved froze in mid-air, held by an invisible pressure capable of splitting the space around it. He saw that the youth before him was no longer a vessel full of emotional cracks, but an eye of a storm that had found its axis.