There was a third type of martial artist.
Those who comprehended a True Domain before breaking through to the Grandmaster Realm.
Lin Sheng stood beneath the old tree in Dragon Yuan Mountain, his gaze calm as the invisible rhythm of Qiankun slowly faded from the surrounding space.
These people were the true monsters among Astral Gang experts.
They didn't merely possess Peak Martial Will, nor had they stopped at the threshold of a Pseudo Domain, they had actually transformed their comprehension into a genuine Martial Domain while still possessing an Astral Gang cultivation.
Such a feat was extraordinarily rare.
The Martial Domain represented a qualitative transformation of Martial Concept, and for an Astral Gang expert to comprehend one before possessing the foundation of a Five Qi Grandmaster was already difficult enough to be described as nearly impossible.
According to the records Lin Sheng had encountered, those who accomplished this were almost certain to successfully enter the Grandmaster Realm as long as they survived the subsequent tribulation and possessed sufficient cultivation accumulation.
More importantly, their path did not end there.
A True Domain could continue evolving alongside the martial artist's comprehension, becoming the foundation for even higher realms.
Lin Sheng naturally understood why such martial artists were so terrifying.
A Pseudo Domain could assist the first fusion of Qi and provide an enormous advantage during the Three-Nine Lightning Tribulation.
A True Domain was different.
It meant that the martial artist had already begun transforming their comprehension into something resembling a law.
The difference between Martial Will and a True Domain was not merely an increase in power, it was a change in the nature of comprehension itself.
Lin Sheng slowly raised his hand.
A faint ripple appeared around his fingers.
He could sense the Qiankun Pseudo Domain hiding within his Martial Will.
"Since I'm already here..."
His eyes became calm.
"...there's no reason to stop halfway."
He wasn't satisfied with merely possessing a Pseudo Domain.
If he could comprehend a True Domain before reaching Five Qi Grandmaster, then his foundation would undoubtedly become even more extraordinary.
It would be difficult.
Perhaps extremely difficult.
But Lin Sheng had never been someone who willingly chose the easier path when a stronger foundation was within reach.
He lowered his hand.
"Then I'll try."
His voice was quiet.
The matter was settled in his mind.
He would continue comprehending Qiankun.
If he failed, he would advance through the Pseudo Domain path.
If he succeeded, then he would possess something almost unheard of among Astral Gang experts.
Lin Sheng turned around and returned towards his meditation room.
He had no idea that while he was quietly pursuing his Martial Concept, events on the distant battlefield had already begun changing.
Two years had passed since the fighting between the Purple Extremity Dan Sect, Dao Reaching Sect and Seven Star Palace had intensified.
The war had gradually settled into a strange rhythm.
Neither side had managed to destroy the other.
The battlefront stretched across an enormous region of the Eastern Region, with cultivators constantly being transferred between different battlefields, some areas erupting into fierce clashes while others remained quiet for weeks.
The number of casualties was enormous.
For this reason, the first disappearances attracted almost no attention.
A group of cultivators would leave the military camp.
A patrol team would fail to return.
Several cultivators assigned to investigate an isolated region would simply vanish.
Nobody immediately considered it unusual.
People died constantly on the battlefield.
Some were killed by enemy cultivators.
Some died beneath formations.
Some were caught in the aftermath of battles between higher realms, their bodies completely destroyed.
Others simply disappeared into the wilderness after suffering serious injuries.
But gradually, something began to feel wrong.
Too many people were disappearing.
More importantly, their bodies could not be found.
The alliance army initially believed that enemy cultivators were secretly capturing prisoners.
That possibility was already troublesome.
But after several investigations revealed traces of Demonic Qi around the areas where the cultivators had vanished, the situation became considerably more serious.
Demonic cultivators.
The Purple Extremity Dan Sect and Dao Reaching Sect immediately suspected the Seven Star Palace.
After all, Seven Star Palace had already been suspected of having connections to the remnants of the ancient Profound Union Sect, and the increasingly vicious nature of the war had caused suspicion between the major powers to reach an extremely dangerous level.
The accusation quickly spread through the alliance army.
The Seven Star Palace naturally denied it.
They claimed that someone was deliberately framing them, using the war to create internal distrust between the three major powers.
Neither side believed the other.
The result was that the cultivators of the alliance army became considerably more cautious.
Patrol groups that previously consisted of several Foundation Establishment cultivators now travelled with stronger formations.
Cultivators stopped wandering outside military camps without a reason.
Even Purple Palace cultivators became more careful when entering isolated regions.
The disappearances subsequently decreased.
For several months, the situation appeared to calm down.
Then the same thing began happening within Seven Star Palace territory.
A patrol team disappeared.
Then another.
Then several Purple Palace cultivators failed to return.
The Seven Star Palace immediately accused the Purple Extremity Dan Sect and Dao Reaching Sect.
The alliance denied involvement.
Once again, both sides pointed fingers at each other.
But neither side could explain the missing cultivators.
The situation continued for some time until a Foundation Establishment cultivator returned.
He was barely alive.
When the guards at the military camp found him, the man was crawling across the ground with one arm missing, blood covering his robes, his face pale enough to resemble a corpse.
"Help..."
His voice was hoarse.
Several cultivators immediately rushed forward.
"He's still alive!"
"Get an alchemist!"
The injured cultivator was carried inside.
His injuries were severe.
Several ribs were shattered, his meridians had suffered considerable damage and the spiritual energy within his body was almost completely exhausted.
Yet despite his condition, he remained conscious.
The moment the alchemist stabilised his injuries, one of the supervising elders immediately questioned him.
"What happened?"
The Foundation Establishment cultivator's body trembled.
His eyes were filled with fear.
"We encountered him..."
"Who?"
The man's lips trembled.
"A Devil Head."
The elder's expression changed.
The news spread through the military camp within hours.
The surviving cultivator had been part of a small patrol group.
They had been travelling through an isolated region when they suddenly encountered a person standing in the middle of the road.
At first, they had assumed he was another cultivator.
Then the man's Demonic Qi erupted.
It was like a dark cloud descending from the heavens.
The surviving cultivator remembered the oppressive sensation clearly.
The person standing before them was a Purple Palace cultivator.
Early stage.
The difference between their realms had been overwhelming.
Before anyone could activate a communication talisman, the Devil Head had already moved.
His foot stepped forward.
The ground beneath him cracked.
His body shot towards the nearest cultivator.
The Foundation Establishment cultivator remembered seeing only a blur.
The demonic cultivator's right hand came forward, fingers spread wide.
The first cultivator raised his sword.
CLANG!
The palm struck the sword.
The blade bent violently.
The cultivator's wrists broke from the impact, and before he could retreat, the Devil Head twisted his body, stepped inside the sword's range and drove his elbow into the man's chest.
CRACK!
The sound of breaking bones rang out.
The cultivator was sent flying backwards, blood spraying from his mouth.
Another Foundation Establishment cultivator attacked from behind.
His sword tore through the air, aimed directly at the Devil Head's neck.
The demonic cultivator seemed to sense it without looking.
He lowered his head.
The sword passed above him.
At the same time, his right foot swept backwards.
The heel struck the attacking cultivator's knee.
The man's leg buckled.
Before he could fall, the Devil Head caught his shoulder, pulled him forward and drove his forehead directly into the man's face.
THUD!
Blood exploded from the cultivator's nose.
The Devil Head released him.
Then his palm descended.
The cultivator's body slammed into the ground.
Everything happened too quickly.
The Foundation Establishment cultivator who survived had barely managed to draw his communication talisman before the Devil Head's gaze turned towards him.
Those eyes were cold.
There was no hesitation.
The surviving cultivator immediately understood that he would die if he stayed.
He activated the talisman.
A flash of light appeared.
The Devil Head's figure suddenly vanished.
The surviving cultivator only had enough time to raise his arm.
BOOM!
A palm struck his chest.
His protective spiritual energy shattered.
His body flew backwards, crashing through several trees before landing heavily against the ground.
His ribs broke.
Blood filled his mouth.
The Devil Head walked towards him.
The surviving cultivator thought he was going to die.
Instead, the demonic cultivator suddenly stopped.
His head tilted slightly.
He seemed to sense something.
Then he turned away.
The surviving cultivator didn't understand.
He didn't waste the opportunity.
He immediately activated the transportation talisman he had exchanged for earlier, and his figure disappeared in a flash of light.
He escaped.
The others weren't so fortunate.
The Devil Head remained behind.
Their corpses disappeared shortly afterwards.
Nobody knew what happened to them.
Nobody knew what the Devil Head wanted with them.
But the message was enough.
A demonic cultivator had appeared.
And he was hunting cultivators.
Both sides reacted immediately.
Several Purple Palace cultivators were dispatched.
Their orders were simple.
Find the Devil Head, Kill him if possible and capture him if necessary.
The cultivators searched the surrounding battlefields for months.
They found traces of drained corpses.
They found occasional remnants of Demonic Qi.
But they never found the person responsible.
The Devil Head had vanished.
Six months passed.
The patrols gradually became less alert.
The cultivators searching for him began believing that he had already escaped the battlefield.
Then one night, several Purple Palace cultivators received information regarding another disappearance.
They immediately moved.
This time, they found something.
A trail of blood.
The group followed it into a forest.
The deeper they went, the heavier the Demonic Qi became.
One of the Purple Palace cultivators suddenly stopped.
"Wait."
The others immediately halted. The forest was silent. Too silent.
A breeze passed between the trees and leaves rustled.
Then a voice came from the darkness.
"You finally came."
A figure slowly walked out.
His robes were stained with blood.
His long hair hung loosely around his shoulders.
The Demonic Qi surrounding his body was considerably denser than the last time he had appeared.
One of the Purple Palace cultivators narrowed his eyes.
"Early-stage Purple Palace."
The man standing opposite them smiled.
"No."
His aura suddenly erupted.
BOOM!
The entire forest shook.
Demonic Qi surged into the heavens like a black pillar.
The cultivators' expressions changed instantly.
"Mid stage!"
They had been deceived.
The Devil Head's cultivation had advanced.
Not only had he broken through, the Demonic Qi surrounding his body was considerably more powerful than an ordinary mid-stage Purple Palace cultivator.
One of the elders immediately shouted.
"Formation!"
The surrounding cultivators moved simultaneously.
Four Purple Palace cultivators spread out, their spiritual energy erupting as they formed a battle formation.
A sword formation appeared overhead.
Hundreds of sword lights condensed in the sky.
"Kill!"
The sword lights descended.
SHING! SHING! SHING!
The Devil Head didn't retreat.
He stepped forward.
His right hand clenched.
Demonic Qi wrapped around his arm, forming a black claw.
The first sword struck his palm.
CLANG!
The impact forced his arm down.
A second sword came from the side.
He twisted his waist.
The blade grazed his shoulder.
Blood appeared.
The Devil Head's eyes became colder.
He stepped forward again.
His foot slammed into the ground.
BOOM!
The earth cracked.
His body shot upward.
He moved directly through the descending sword lights, twisting between them with astonishing precision, his shoulders turning just enough to avoid the blades while his arms deflected others, every movement economical and vicious.
A Purple Palace elder saw an opening.
He thrust his sword forward.
The blade pierced through the Devil Head's chest.
Puchi!
The elder's eyes widened.
He had succeeded.
But before he could celebrate, the Devil Head lowered his gaze towards the sword embedded in his chest.
He smiled.
Then he grabbed the blade.
The elder tried to pull it back.
It didn't move.
The Devil Head's fingers tightened around the sword.
Crack!
The sword shattered.
The elder's expression changed.
The Devil Head stepped forward.
The distance between them disappeared.
His shoulder slammed into the elder's chest.
BOOM!
The elder was sent flying.
Before he could stabilise himself, the Devil Head appeared above him.
A fist descended.
The elder raised both arms.
The fist collided with his defensive spiritual energy.
BOOM!
His arms bent.
The protective barrier cracked.
A second punch followed.
BOOM!
The barrier shattered.
The elder was driven into the ground.
The Devil Head descended with him, his knee crashing into the elder's chest.
CRACK!
The ground beneath them collapsed.
The remaining Purple Palace cultivators attacked simultaneously.
Sword light swept across the forest.
A palm print tore through the air.
A spear pierced towards the Devil Head's back.
He twisted.
The spear passed beneath his ribs.
His hand shot out.
He grabbed the spear shaft.
The cultivator pulled.
The Devil Head pulled harder.
The spear tore free from the cultivator's hands.
Before the man could react, the Devil Head swung the weapon around.
BOOM!
The spear struck the cultivator's chest.
His protective treasure shattered.
His body was thrown backwards.
The Devil Head didn't give him time to recover.
He stepped onto the ground and accelerated.
His body became a black blur.
The cultivator tried to raise his hand.
Too late.
The Devil Head's palm struck his throat.
The force behind the blow crushed the man's protective spiritual energy and drove his head backwards.
He collapsed.
The other two cultivators finally understood.
They were not hunting the same Devil Head from six months ago.
They were facing someone considerably stronger.
"Retreat!"
One of them shouted.
But the Devil Head had already arrived.
His eyes were strangely bright.
The corner of his mouth curled upwards.
He had waited six months for this.
Six months of hiding.
Six months of cultivation.
Six months of refining the Blood Qi he had stolen.
Now the prey had delivered itself to him.
His body moved through the forest like a shadow.
A palm struck.
A fist followed.
A knee smashed into a rib.
A hand seized a wrist and twisted.
The Purple Palace cultivators desperately defended themselves, their spiritual energy exploding repeatedly as they attempted to create distance, but the difference between early-stage and mid-stage Purple Palace was too great, especially when the Devil Head's body had already been tempered by enormous quantities of Blood Qi.
One cultivator managed to escape several dozen metres.
He looked back.
His companion had already fallen.
The Devil Head stood among the broken trees, blood covering his robes.
Their eyes met.
The fleeing cultivator's heart sank.
Then the Devil Head disappeared.
A black shadow crossed the distance.
The cultivator barely raised his defensive treasure.
BOOM!
The impact sent him flying.
He crashed through a tree.
Before he could rise, a foot stepped onto his chest.
The Devil Head looked down.
"Don't run."
His palm descended.
The forest became silent.
The Devil Head stood among the corpses, breathing slowly.
The blood on the ground began moving.
Tiny streams of crimson flowed towards his feet.
His eyes narrowed.
A strange hunger appeared within them.
He could feel it.
The strength inside those cultivators was becoming nourishment.
His cultivation had advanced.
His body had become stronger.
And yet, the hunger had not diminished.
It had grown.
The Devil Head looked at the corpses.
Then he smiled.
"More."
The word escaped his mouth almost unconsciously.