The morning sun broke over the horizon, casting long, pale shadows across a frozen world. It offered little warmth. Inside the rattling carriage, Xu Zifeng and Zhao Ziling huddled together, their bodies racked with shivers that had less to do with the biting wind and more to do with the lingering terror of the previous night. The mental exhaustion, combined with the piercing cold, had left them spiritless and frail.
Jiang Dao rode alongside the carriage, his presence looming larger than the mountains in the distance.
"You two, the situation is settled," Jiang Dao said, his voice cutting through the wind. "Your master has already returned to Tianshi Mountain. If you wish to leave, I won't stop you. Once we breach the city gates, I'll have a fresh carriage arranged for your journey home."
In truth, the old Taoist priest had departed the moment Jiang Dao emerged from his seclusion. He had dumped the responsibility of the aftermath onto Jiang Dao and fled in a hurry. According to the old priest, Tianshi Mountain was facing a cataclysm—a tremendous upheaval that threatened to engulf all of humanity. His divinations spoke of a shift in the very structure of heaven and earth, an event so ominous that even the priest's voice had trembled when he spoke of it.
"That is... appreciated, Gang Leader Jiang," Xu Zifeng stammered. His face was chalk-white, drained of blood and vitality. "We will depart as soon as possible."
Every instinct in Xu's body was screaming at him to put as much distance between himself and Jiang Dao as possible.
Jiang Dao frowned, feigning concern. "Are you sure? Does Brother Xu not wish to stay a few days to recover his health? You look unwell."
"No, no! You are too kind," Xu Zifeng forced a smile that looked more like a grimace.
"Very well," Jiang Dao shrugged. "So be it."
By the time they entered the city, the streets were bustling with the grim determination of people trying to survive the winter. Jiang Dao wasted no time. He summoned his Right Guardian, Xiang An, ordering him to prepare a luxury carriage stocked with incense burners and heavy fur blankets.
But he didn't stop there. He produced a stack of silver banknotes worth ten thousand taels and physically pressed them into Xu Zifeng's trembling hands.
"Brother Xu," Jiang Dao said, his tone turning surprisingly solemn. "I am a man with few friends. But after last night, I count you two among them. I cannot offer you grand treasures, but a little silver for the road? That I can spare."
Xu Zifeng looked at the fortune in his hands, feeling a wave of nausea mixed with gratitude. "Gang Leader Jiang, this is too much. Really, we cannot—"
Jiang Dao's eyes narrowed. The temperature around them seemed to drop. "Is Brother Xu looking down on me?"
"I wouldn't dare! Absolutely not!" Xu Zifeng cried out, clutching the notes tightly.
Jiang Dao nodded, his expression flattening into something harder to read. "Good. Because I treat you as a friend, Brother Xu, do not mistake my generosity for ignorance. Do not take me for a fool."
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper that carried the weight of a sledgehammer.
"If I ever hear that you are conducting blood sacrifices behind my back... do not blame me for traveling ten thousand miles to find you. I will pinch the life out of you with my own hands. You know my methods."
"I won't. I swear it, never!" Xu Zifeng's face lost whatever color it had regained.
The image of Jiang Dao—this monster in human skin—was burned into his psyche. In the minds of Xu and Zhao, Jiang Dao was an apex predator. Perhaps a few elders on Tianshi Mountain could contain him, but anyone else? They were just meat.
"Good." Jiang Dao stepped back, his terrifying aura vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. He flashed a bright, pearly smile. "Have a safe journey, Brother Xu."
"Many thanks, Gang Leader Jiang." Xu Zifeng bowed deeply, his fists cupped in a gesture of profound relief.
As the carriage began to roll away, Zhao Ziling, perhaps possessed by a moment of madness or simply relieved to be alive, stuck her head out the window. "Gang Leader Jiang! Come visit us at Tianshi Mountain sometime!"
Inside the carriage, Xu Zifeng nearly tackled her to cover her mouth.
"I will!" Jiang Dao called back, his grin widening.
Xu Zifeng groaned, burying his face in his hands. Of all the people to invite... why the monster?
The carriage rattled down the street, disappearing into the morning mist. Jiang Dao watched them go, his smile fading into a look of cold calculation. He turned to his lieutenant.
"Xiang An. The talent search I ordered—how is it progressing?"
"Reporting to the Gang Leader," Xiang An replied sharply. "I have gathered a hundred prodigies suitable for martial arts. They are waiting."
"Excellent," Jiang Dao said, cracking his knuckles. "From today on, I will teach them myself."
The training square was a sea of fluttering flags.
Over a hundred young men stood in formation. They were the best the Flame Gang had to offer—skilled, loyal, and fanatically devoted to Jiang Dao. To them, he was not just a leader; he was a god of war.
Jiang Dao sat upon a golden throne at the head of the square, dressed in fresh robes. He scanned the crowd before locking eyes with one of his lieutenants.
"Guo Dutian. The internal energy I transferred to you last time—how are you handling it?"
Guo Dutian stepped forward, bowing low. "Reporting to the Gang Leader! I have mastered it. Ordinary 'Strong-Level' evil spirits are no longer my match."
"Is that so?" Jiang Dao smiled dangerously. "Do you want to go a step further? It will hurt. There may be side effects. Are you willing?"
Guo Dutian didn't hesitate. He dropped to his knees, his forehead touching the cold stone. "I will accept death if it means serving the Gang Leader! Please, grant me this power!"
"Relax. It won't be death."
Jiang Dao descended from his throne. The other disciples watched with naked envy. They knew Guo Dutian had received a transfer of Fire Poison Astral Energy, altering his very constitution. Now, he was being offered more.
Jiang Dao extended a single finger. The air shimmered with heat as he channeled the Extreme Yang Fire. He tapped the center of Guo Dutian's forehead.
Boom.
It wasn't a sound, but a sensation—a shockwave of heat that blasted outward. The Extreme Yang Divine Fire flooded Guo's system, igniting the dormant Yang energy within his body. Instantly, Guo Dutian's skin turned the color of a boiled lobster. Veins bulged across his face like writhing snakes. He threw his head back and let out a roar of agony that shook the banners.
But he did not break. He clamped his jaw shut, grinding his teeth until they threatened to crack, forcing himself to endure the incineration of his own blood.
Seven seconds. Eight seconds.
Jiang Dao pulled his finger back.
Guo Dutian collapsed forward, gasping for air, sweat pooling beneath him. But as he looked up, his eyes burned with a new, terrifying vitality. His body radiated heat like a furnace. He felt unbreakable. Impervious.
"How does it feel?" Jiang Dao asked softly.
"I feel... filled with power," Guo whispered, staring at his hands. "My blood is burning. I feel like... like nothing can touch me."
"Good. Nurture that fire. Feed it with Yang-attribute herbs. It is yours now."
The surrounding disciples were practically salivating. Even the senior guardians, men who had practiced martial arts for decades without improvement, looked at Jiang Dao with hunger in their eyes.
Jiang Dao's gaze swept over them, landing cold and heavy on Guardian Yan. "Yan Wushuang. I trust you haven't been slacking off?"
The older man fell to his knees in a panic. "I wouldn't dare! My loyalty is absolute!"
Jiang Dao chuckled, the sound devoid of warmth. "Gentlemen, do not be anxious. You are my inner circle. You will all receive this power."
He paused, letting the promise hang in the air before his expression hardened.
"But remember one thing. I do not care what you do with this strength, but once you learn my martial arts, you must never turn your hand against ordinary people. If I catch you using my gifts to slaughter the innocent..."
He tapped the ground with his toe.
CRACK.
An invisible force field erupted from his foot, tearing through the cobblestones. Fifty meters away, a massive stone lion exploded. It didn't just break; it disintegrated into powder, which then burst into flames.
"Remember this," Jiang Dao's voice was low, echoing across the silent square. "You are humans. Living, breathing humans. No matter how strong you become, you remain human. I never want to hear you utter bullshit like 'all living beings are ants.' Do you understand?"
A collective shiver went through the ranks. They knelt as one.
"We will engrave the Gang Leader's teachings in our hearts!"
Jiang Dao nodded, looking up at the gray sky. He didn't know if he was saving them or damning them. The world was broken. He couldn't protect them forever; sooner or later, he would have to leave this small Southern Region. But until then, he would make them strong.
Time waits for no man, and it certainly does not wait for the doomed.
Half a month passed in the blink of an eye. In the Dayu Heavenly Dynasty, the weather had turned catastrophic. Blizzards, freezing rain, and howling winds had devastated the countryside. Countless refugees died by the roadside, frozen statues in the mud.
At Tianshi Mountain, the situation was dire.
The old Taoist, Linghu, had been awake for seven days straight, reinforcing the seals on the Evil God's prison. He was exhausted, but more than that, he was confused. Where was the Old Heavenly Master? The Evil God was waking up. This was an apocalypse-level event. Why was the leader of the sect absent?
Finally, a summons came.
Linghu rushed to the Great Hall, a place that had always been his sanctuary. But as he stepped inside, the atmosphere was wrong.
The hall was filled with strangers.
Seven or eight powerful factions were present. He recognized the banners of the Exorcist clans. He saw four representatives of the Thirty-Six Destiny Royal Clans. But most terrifying of all were the four figures sitting in the shadows—the Corpse Demon Ancestors from Corpse Demon Mountain. They sat like piles of dead meat, shrouded in necrotic energy, their red eyes glowing in the dark.
And there, at the front, sat the Old Heavenly Master. A thin, frail figure, his back to the candlelight.
"Linghu," the Master's voice was ancient, rippling with strange power. "You have come."
"Master," Linghu bowed.
"From today," the Master said, "gather all disciples. Abandon the mountain."
Linghu froze. "Abandon the mountain? But the Evil God is reviving! If we don't suppress it, it will spread for hundreds of miles!"
"I know," the Master replied calmly. "But the Will from Above is set."
"The Will from Above?" Linghu felt like he had been punched. "But... what of the people? There are billions of living beings!"
"In the face of calamity, we cannot even protect ourselves," the Master said, his voice void of emotion. "How can we care about billions of living beings?"
"No! We can fight! We can delay it!" Linghu screamed, his composure shattering.
"Enough!"
A voice like grinding gravel cut him off. One of the Corpse Demon Ancestors glared at him. "Your Master has spoken. Obey."
Linghu looked around wildly. He looked at the Prince of the Dynasty, sitting comfortably in his purple robes. He looked at the Corpse Demons. He looked at his Master. And he realized the truth.
They had made a deal. The elite—the royals, the sects, the demons—had decided to survive by feeding the common world to the wolves.
"The meaning is simple," the Prince said, bored. "They have resolved to cleanse the human world. Resistance is futile. Old Linghu, you are wise. You know that even the Yin Court and the City Gods have vanished. What is Tianshi Mountain compared to that?"
"But... billions of lives..." Linghu wept, tears streaming down his weathered face. He had guarded humanity for a lifetime, only to be told it was all for nothing.
"Go, Linghu," the Old Heavenly Master whispered.
Linghu stumbled out of the hall, laughing and crying like a madman.
Inside, the Prince looked at the candle. "How long?"
"Not long," the Master said. "The rules are obscured."
As the conspirators prepared to leave, the mountain shook. A boom like a volcanic eruption tore through the silence. Black gas shot into the sky, and a sound began to echo across the world—a twisted, eerie lullaby that drilled into the brain.
The Prince's face went pale.
"It's too early. The Evil God has revived."
In the ruins of the Daye Dynasty, snow crushed the remains of a village.
Inside a shattered house, Jiang Dao exhaled a plume of hot steam. He stood over a pile of sludge that twitched and writhed on the floor.
"Finally," he muttered.
This Evil Spirit had been a nightmare. It wasn't just strong; it was a psychological torture device. Its body had been covered in hundreds of screaming faces, each projecting a different emotion—grief, rage, hysteria—directly into Jiang Dao's mind. It was a creature of pure chaos.
He had killed it a hundred times. Each time, it reformed. But now, after he had beaten it into a paste, the faces were gone.
"Stay dead this time," Jiang Dao said.
He flicked his finger. A glob of Extreme Yang Divine Fire landed on the sludge. It ignited with a roar, burning the remains until nothing was left but ash.
Jiang Dao walked out into the snow. It had been half a month of constant hunting. He had swept through the region, slaughtering every spirit he could find. He was tired, but he felt heavier, denser. Stronger.
He focused his mind, and the semi-transparent interface flickered into existence before his eyes.
[Name: Jiang Dao]
[Strength: 76]
[Speed: 54]
[Spirit: 11.8]
[Martial Arts:]
Extreme Demon Overlord Body: (Indestructible Diamond, Scorching Extreme Yang, Flesh Mutation)
Extreme Dao Fire Dragon Fist: (Strangling, Blazing Sun Field, Divine Liquid)
Fire Demon God-Tearing Hand: (Toxic, Corrosive, Sky Demon Heart Devourer)
Yin Evil Mysterious Heart Technique: (Modifiable)
Heavenly Demon Visualization Diagram: (Modifiable)
[Modifiable Times: 2]
Jiang Dao studied the list. The Heavenly Demon Visualization Diagram, stolen from the Dayu Dynasty, was already paying dividends. His spirit stat was climbing.
He saw the two modification tokens available. He didn't hesitate.
"Modify," he commanded mentally, selecting the Mysterious Heart Technique and the Visualization Diagram.
Flash.
The text blurred and rearranged itself. A surge of new understanding, new power, flooded his neural pathways. He stretched, his joints popping like gunshots in the silent village.
"Right," Jiang Dao said, looking toward the horizon where the sky was turning a bruised purple. "Let's see if this is enough to kill a Corpse Demon."