Night Owl fled desperately through the darkness, like a dog with its tail between its legs. His mind flashed back to the day before: dressed in the tight black attire favored by all the Night Clan, with a membrane-like bat cloak draped over his shoulders, he had been perched atop the largest ancient tree in the Night Forest.
Suddenly, every Night Clan member felt the call of their leader, Lord Nightshade. One by one, they dropped from their perches and gathered on the stone-paved plaza at the heart of the forest.
There, Night Owl received his orders from Lord Nightshade: to lead over a thousand clansmen to the 01245 dimensional nexus, the connection point with the Ancient Realm, to ambush a group of newly ascended human cultivators. The Night Clan was inherently bloodthirsty—why exactly, no one could say. Not even Night Owl himself understood; it seemed to be their nature.
Since the humans signed the Ancient Pact, their number of ascenders had been kept painfully low. Night Owl found it strange—how could so many clan members be needed when only a handful of humans ascended in any given dimension? But when the leader commands, no one dares refuse.
When Night Owl arrived at the 01245 ascension site, he was met with thousands of pitiful newly ascended humans. Behind them stood hundreds more, all bearing scorch marks from thunder tribulations—the deadly ordeals that humans called "crossing the tribulation." The air carried a faint but unmistakable scent—the holy aura of angels from the Heavenly Realm. The Night Clan despised and were hypersensitive to such sanctity, so Night Owl quickly identified its source.
There was no question about it. The Night Clan fed on human blood. Seeing so many vulnerable ascenders, they launched a brutal massacre. Some humans were clever and escaped, but others stayed behind to fight.
After some time, the battle ended. Only about twenty humans remained alive. The Night Clan held a feast, savoring the blood of their captives—their most delicious delicacy.
But no one expected disaster to strike at that moment.
Night Owl had a vague, unsettling intuition about danger—a feeling that had saved his life more than once. So, feeling uneasy, he slipped away from the camp and hid deep within the thick forest, a good place to remain unseen.
Terrifying! A terrifying man! Like a demon, this man's speed eclipsed even the fastest Night Clan warriors—who were already the swiftest among humans. Yet in this man's eyes, none of them mattered.
In the blink of an eye, thousands of clan members were slaughtered by a rain of blazing spirit swords. Night Owl barely had time to react before he saw bodies falling like a shattered honeycomb.
A chill rose from his feet to his neck. Only then did Night Owl understand why Lord Nightshade had sent over a thousand clansmen—and even so, could they possibly stand against such a killing god?
Endless, suffocating terror gripped his throat, making it nearly impossible to breathe. He ran—desperately fled—too afraid even to look back, fleeing like a hunted dog toward the Night Forest.
Behind him, a cold presence lingered, sometimes seeming close, sometimes distant. Several times, Night Owl felt a hot breath brush his neck. He trembled with fear, wanting to turn around to see if the man was still there or had left—but he never dared. He feared that the moment he glanced back, his neck would be snapped forever. The terror was too great.
A day passed, and Night Owl ran for his life. Then another night, and he ran again. Day after day, he crossed mountains and rivers until he finally reached the Night Forest.
Exhausted and terrified, gasping for air, Night Owl suddenly felt a flicker of joy and relief deep in his heart.
The Night Forest meant safety. He thought of the demon king—wondered if he had gone. The forest was silent. Days had passed; surely he was gone by now.
But when Night Owl instinctively glanced back, a sharp sword light flashed before his eyes—and then he saw it: his own headless corpse standing rigidly in place. Then darkness swallowed him whole.
Feng Yunwuji gently withdrew the Fifth Sword Core and wiped it clean on Night Owl's corpse—though it bore no bloodstains—and spoke coldly, "You shouldn't have looked back."
Taking a long stride, Feng Yunwuji stepped over the headless body. Three days had passed. Guided by Night Owl, Feng Yunwuji finally reached this place. His divine sense swept the area, detecting a dense concentration of presence within the forest. He had confirmed the location of the Night Clan's base. Keeping Night Owl alive was pointless; without hesitation, Feng Yunwuji ended him.
Blood debts must be repaid with blood. When his junior disciple died before his eyes, Feng Yunwuji swore this very oath.
We flee only because we are weak. Now, when slaughter descends again, we choose to face it—because we are no longer who we once were.
Standing proudly on a towering cliff, Feng Yunwuji faced the wind. Below stretched a vast black primeval forest, spanning tens of millions of miles. Quietly, he closed his eyes once more, arms outstretched, body leaning forward at a forty-five-degree angle.
Directly beneath him, the forest closest to the cliff erupted with a continuous crackling roar. Thousands upon thousands of ancient giant trees crashed outward and inward, toppling with thunderous crashes and sending clouds of dust into the sky.
The dust storm grew taller and wider, pushing deeper into the black forest, felling massive trees in its path.
Feng Yunwuji formed a sword seal with his right hand. Suddenly, countless leaves blasted off the fallen trees, swirling into a vortex that spun in the air, pressing relentlessly toward the forest's heart. The closer it got, the denser the storm of leaves became.
Deep within the forest, in a spacious clearing, a tall pillar stood. A man wrapped head to toe in a cloak suddenly opened his eyes, revealing a mouth full of sharp teeth. Throwing his head back, he let out a piercing roar that shattered the sky.
The quiet forest stirred, and an endless volley of rushing sounds filled the air.
Above the black forest, countless dense shadows flashed, shooting like arrows toward the cliff where Feng Yunwuji stood.