The ashes of the Lu Family still smoldered on the slopes of the Black Fang Mountains. Their screams had long since faded, replaced by the howls of wind and the quiet hum of cultivation energy.
Within the Blood Fang Fortress, the air pulsed with raw qi.
Mu Chen stood atop the main terrace, his long robe fluttering in the breeze. With his hands clasped behind his back, he looked down at the courtyard where new recruits trained day and night. His eyes glinted—not with arrogance, but resolve.
He had broken through.
Foundation Establishment Realm.
So had the two demi-human illusionists. The righteous skill books looted from the Lu Family had pushed them past their limits. Combined with the mid-grade spirit stones, their cultivation surged.
A scout bowed at Mu Chen's side.
"Sir, no rogue sect or clan dares approach the mountains. The western range has gone silent."
Mu Chen nodded.
"Good. Keep it that way."
Far to the south, in a quiet city tucked between sand dunes and red pines, Xuan Long sipped tea from a chipped porcelain cup. The inn was humble, the walls faded, the lanterns dim.
But he didn't need grandeur. He needed silence.
News had reached him via spirit talisman:
The Lu Family is no more.
He said nothing at first, but a slow breath escaped his lips.
"Good," he whispered.
But his eyes didn't relax.
"Strength alone isn't enough."
"If I want an empire, I need an army."
He retrieved a spirit talisman and activated it. Mu Chen's voice crackled to life on the other end.
"Send me 1,000 low-grade spirit stones. Now."
Mu Chen didn't question.
"Understood."
Hours later, Xuan Long stood before the largest slave market in the city. The scent of sweat and despair filled the air.
"I want one hundred slaves," he said.
The trader raised a brow.
"Cultivation level?"
"Qi Level 1 or above."
The man scratched his beard.
"That will be 1,000 stones."
Xuan Long dropped a pouch onto the table. No haggling. No hesitation.
The merchant blinked in disbelief as the coins clattered.
"They're yours," he said slowly.
The hundred slaves were led forward—eyes downcast, bodies bruised, spirits hollow.
Xuan Long looked over them, his voice calm and firm.
"Swear an oath. Loyalty to me, in body and soul."
"In return, I give you strength. Purpose. Power."
At first, silence. Then slowly, every single one of them knelt.
Back on the mountain, Mu Chen welcomed the new recruits.
He didn't waste time.
"Eighty of you, to the Combat Division."
"Twenty, Scout Division."
Weapons were distributed.
Basic cultivation techniques assigned.
"You will reach Qi Level 5 in one month," Mu Chen announced. "Or you will answer to Master Xuan Long."
The fortress buzzed with energy.
Meanwhile, deep within the mountain woods—
Thirty Heavenly Flying Sect disciples approached the valley. Their leader, a proud Foundation Realm cultivator, laughed.
"Hei Mo! Come out and meet your death!"
Hei Mo stepped out of the shadows, his robes fluttering like black fire.
"Wrong day, wrong valley."
He snapped his fingers.
Over a hundred shadow cultivators emerged, encircling the sect disciples.
Panic.
"You think you can trap us?!" the leader barked.
"You trapped yourselves," Hei Mo replied.
The battle lasted minutes. Blood pills were refined from the corpses.
Victory was absolute.
Back in the city, Xiao Xue sat cross-legged on a simple mat, playing with a handmade doll. Her pink dress fluttered as she turned.
"Brother?" she whispered.
Xuan Long looked over, his heart catching.
"Say it again."
She blinked.
"Brother."
His lips curved into a rare smile.
He knelt and kissed her forehead.
"Do you want something today?"
"I'm okay," she whispered.
"Even so… let's see some toys together."
They walked hand-in-hand through the market. It felt almost like peace.
But peace was fragile.
A scream rang out.
Down an alley, a Foundation Level 5 woman staggered, bloodied, pursued by Foundation Level 8 assassins.
Xuan Long appeared before her.
"Do you want to live?"
She blinked, confused.
"Swear loyalty. I will protect you."
"I swear!"
The assassins laughed.
"One man against three of us?"
Xuan Long didn't answer.
He simply raised his hand.
Devour.
Reflect.
BOOM.
Their bodies exploded in blood and flame.
The woman knelt before him.
"Master."
He handed her a spirit token.
"Go to the mountains. They will welcome you."
That night, under the stars, he tucked Xiao Xue into bed.
"Will you always stay with me?" she asked.
"Always," he promised.
And outside, under the moonlight, the first seeds of a new empire bloomed—one built not of glory or heaven's will, but of fire, vengeance, and the loyalty of the broken.