For several consecutive days, Fengyun Wuji roamed the vast expanse of the Primordial Earth, hunting down powerful beastkin. Wherever he went, devastation followed—fields littered with corpses. Eventually, his body became tainted with the aura of the slain creatures. Though undetectable to humans, this potent stench of blood and death was overwhelming to the beastkin. Before he even approached, those with the slightest hint of intelligence would flee in panic, terrified by the oppressive scent that clung to him.
He showed no interest in the weak—those creatures he let escape without a second glance. But the mighty ones, those ancient beings dwelling tens of thousands of miles away, were a different matter. Fengyun Wuji's ever-strengthening divine sense locked onto them, tracking them through space like a predator that would never miss its mark.
With the help of the world's repulsive force and years of bitter cultivation, his Sword Emperor realm had long since stabilized. No matter the distance, a single step would bridge thousands of miles. No ancient beast, even one with tens of thousands of years of cultivation, could escape his sword.
Each time he absorbed the essence of a millennia-old beast, he unleashed a sword strike. And with each strike, the brilliance it emitted grew stronger. Thunderous booms accompanied the sword light, louder with every blow. After days and nights of sleepless training, Fengyun Wuji could feel it—success was near.
Even Ximen Yibei would have been stunned by the scene. To pierce the barriers of space and open an interdimensional portal was an act so draining that only the word "terrifying" could describe its cost in true essence. But Fengyun Wuji cultivated the forbidden technique known as Devouring Star Arts, a peerless method born of catastrophe—a technique forged from the death of millions of humans in the Demon Realm, from the distillation of hundreds of thousands of demonic cultivation arts. Its terrifying power was only natural.
BOOM!
A bolt of lightning tore across the sky, splitting the storm clouds with a crimson gash. Light flooded the land, only to vanish again in an instant. Amid the thunder and pouring rain stood a bare-chested man, sword in hand, his long hair soaked and clinging to his body. Beside him lay the skeletal remains of a massive beast, bleached white and eerily lifelike. Raindrops hissed as they struck the bones, releasing streams of white mist into the air.
Water dripped from Fengyun Wuji's brow, blurring his vision. Beyond ten meters, everything faded into obscurity.
A powerful urge surged within him—a violent craving to strike. The feeling of imminent breakthrough pressed at his chest, swelling to the point of rupture. Yet he held it back, forcing himself to remain in control.
Shing—
Time slowed ten-thousandfold.
A thin streak of sword light burst from his chest, expanding outward. The blade pierced forward, breaking through space inch by inch. With each advance, the brilliance surrounding it intensified. The space around it rippled like water, and after just a foot, the blinding radiance had completely obscured the sword.
In the darkness of night, it was as if a miniature sun had detonated, flooding the surrounding hundred miles with searing light.
As the sword advanced, its tip began to vanish—slipping beyond this reality into another. The more the tip disappeared, the greater the spatial disturbance it left behind. The sword's aura exploded in intensity until finally, a swirling black vortex opened before Fengyun Wuji, growing larger by the second. A violent gale howled from its depths.
His robe flapped wildly in the wind, and then he laughed—long and triumphant.
"Hahaha... I've done it! I've finally succeeded!"
Fengyun Wuji stood with one hand bracing his sword, chest heaving. That one strike had drained nearly all his true energy. His body was so depleted he could barely move.
The massive black vortex shimmered in and out of sight under the stormy sky. Faint light leaked from the far end of the dimensional tunnel, but nothing emerged.
Though physically weak—vulnerable enough that a million-year beast could easily kill him—luck was on his side. Every ancient beast in the region had already been slain, and the few that remained, sensing the blood-soaked aura clinging to him, had long since fled, too frightened to come near.
Lying on the muddy ground beside the swirling portal, Fengyun Wuji rested his hands behind his head and laughed again, face turned toward the sky. After days of grueling effort, his perseverance had finally paid off.
Through countless trials, he had mastered the method of opening an interdimensional gate. The only thing he had yet to test was how to open a portal to a specific plane.
Not long after returning to the Sword Pavilion, Chishang approached him and handed over a slip of paper. "Senior Ximen left this for you. He told me to give it to you after a period of time."
Fengyun Wuji glanced at it. Only a single line was written:
Recall the aura of that plane.
With a light flick between his fingers, the slip disintegrated into a shower of ash.
"I understand," he said. "Chishang, gather the last disciples who ascended—choose three with the highest reputation within the sect. I'll need their help."
"Yes, Master. Right away."
Fengyun Wuji had already anticipated this problem. Having been gone for over four centuries since his ascension, few in the sect still remembered who he was. Most who had known him were already dead. Without witnesses, proving his identity would be difficult. But if the last ascended disciples confirmed it, everything would fall into place. As the founder of the Devil-Slaying Heart Sutra, his word still carried weight.
Soon, Chishang returned with three disciples. Though they had ascended long ago, all three retained the appearance of people in their thirties—evidence of their exceptional talent. Fengyun Wuji briefed them on the situation. Their names were:
Mo Liye, former head of the North Ice Sword Sect
Leng Ruoshuang, former head of the Twilight Violet Sword Sect
Gu Yuetian, current head of the Southern Star Sword Sect
These sects were now the leading factions in Fengyun Wuji's original plane.
Respecting one's master was a core tenet in all sects. After hearing his request, the three immediately agreed—there was no room for hesitation.
The day finally arrived.
Under the watchful eyes of the Sword Pavilion disciples, standing once more at the original place of ascension, Fengyun Wuji unleashed a sword strike. A blinding flash split the sky, and a massive vortex appeared before them.
"Chishang," he said solemnly, "I leave the Sword Domain in your hands. I will return before long..."
As Chishang nodded, Fengyun Wuji stepped into the portal with Gu Yuetian and the others. Behind them, the swirling gate slowly sealed shut.