Cheon Ji's footsteps echoed softly across the devastated battlefield. The thick mist of Central Valley still hung heavy in the air, shrouding the ruins in a shadowy veil. Yet amidst the darkness, Cheon Ji's body radiated a gentle light—a holy glow that cracked through the gloom.
Before him stood Yan Zhian, cloaked in wild black flames, as if hell itself walked the earth. A smug smile curled on his lips, satisfied after bringing down Lu Zhou, whose body was now lost somewhere beneath the rubble.
"Alone now?" Yan Zhian mocked, his right hand clenched, black fire pulsing like the heartbeat of hell. "You're the one I've been waiting for, Cheon Ji."
Cheon Ji stopped, his gaze sharp and cold. Not out of hatred—but unwavering resolve. He wasn't fighting for revenge, but for a greater conviction.
"If that's what you want," he replied quietly, yet his voice rang clear, "then I'll give you the end you deserve."
Their auras exploded at once.
The sky turned dark and heavy. The wind fell silent. The mist withdrew, as if the world itself refused to witness the clash of two opposing forces—one bearing holy light, the other burning with darkness.
Yan Zhian struck first. His fist, wrapped in dark fire, slammed into the ground with the force of a meteor, cracking the earth wide open. But Cheon Ji evaded calmly, swiftly. With a single palm, he cut through the air, unleashing a wave of light that crashed into Yan Zhian's chest, hurling him backward.
BOOM!
The ground shook violently.
Yan Zhian chuckled, rising to one knee. "Still the same as before, hiding behind your light and hollow doctrines."
Cheon Ji stepped forward. "And you... still trapped in a shadow of vengeance you don't even understand."
They collided without warning. Thunder roared above, the earth lifted beneath their feet. Every blow wasn't just a contest of strength—it was a war between two opposing paths.
Cheon Ji summoned a sacred formation—a giant lotus floated in the air, its petals spinning, raining down beams of light that restricted his foe's movement. But Yan Zhian roared, his body igniting in full, and unleashed a forbidden technique: Flame Demon Breaker.
The sacred lotus cracked. The air screamed, as though dimensions were being torn apart.
The sky seemed to collapse. No one dared approach. Amidst the devastation, they were no longer men—but living legends battling for the future.
Between blows, Yan Zhian spat blood and growled, his voice trembling with fury:
"I accepted this power because I know—there's no place for us in the false world you call peace!"
Cheon Ji looked up at the blood-red sky. "It's not peace that destroyed you... it's yourself. You chose this path. You're the one who shattered hope."
Another deafening explosion shook the world. Time seemed to freeze.
But far off, hidden within the mist and rubble of the valley, a quiet tragedy unfolded.
Lu Zhou, his body bloodied and broken, struggled to rise. His breath was ragged, his vision blurry—but the light in his eyes hadn't died. He hadn't given up.
He wasn't alone.
Two figures emerged from the mist: Mu Whon and Kim Jheon Mo—merciless executioners of Dark Blood.
Mu Whon spoke coldly, flatly. "Your noise ends here. For Dark Blood, you must vanish."
Lu Zhou gripped his sword with the last of his strength, his hand trembling. The pendant around his neck began to dim, its light nearly gone.
Kim Jheon Mo sneered, "You had the guts to challenge Yan Zhian earlier. Look at you now—pathetic."
Without mercy, they struck together—Mu Whon from behind, Kim Jheon Mo from the front.
Lu Zhou parried Kim's strike, but was too slow to evade Mu Whon.
Craaaack!
Two swords pierced him from both sides. His breath caught. Blood burst from his mouth. His eyes widened.
With a weak voice, he looked up at the burning sky.
"...My son… Father… will be with you soon…"
His body collapsed slowly, as if the world itself rejected his presence. As he fell, the pendant at his neck cracked.
The last light faded.
His blood pooled among the stones and mist. He no longer moved.
Mu Whon pulled out his blade without a word.
"It's done."
Kim Jheon Mo kicked Lu Zhou's body, rolling it into the abyss. "Toss him. Leave no trace."
The two turned away, vanishing into the mist, leaving Lu Zhou's corpse in a silence that pierced the soul.
In the distance, So Lin He still battled against Heaven's soldiers, while Cheon Ji continued his duel amidst the ruin.
No one noticed...