There were three things one could gain from killing a demonic beast: a demonic soul core, soul fragments, and, if lucky, a rune fusion skill.
The soul core, once refined to purity, could be absorbed for cultivation. Soul fragments carried the beast's lingering will, allowing it to be summoned once to fight at the cultivator's side. But such summons were bound by the laws of the soul, and could never be repeated. As for rune fusion skills, only those compatible with a cultivator's essence art could be integrated into their body.
This time, the guild had obtained forty demonic soul cores and two soul fragments—a fine harvest for a single hunt. They chose to rest for the day, with plans to resume at dawn.
Meng Xuan stepped outside the tent and gazed at the purple moon. It hung low in the sky, glowing faintly like an ominous lantern. His eyes drifted toward the girls' tent. All was quiet. No light, no movement.
"They're asleep… then who was it that called my name?" he whispered.
The thought had barely left his mind when everything shifted.
The tents disappeared. The mountains in the distance dissolved into ash. Even the purple moon above melted into nothingness, swallowed by a void that spread across the heavens.
Darkness.
Meng Xuan stood in a world stripped bare, a silence so absolute it pressed against his chest. His pulse raced. Something unseen moved in the dark, its presence suffocating.
Then, just as fear reached its peak, the pressure lifted.
"Fear not. You are safe here," said a voice—calm, deep, and eerily familiar.
Meng Xuan spun toward the sound. "Who are you?" he demanded, fists clenching.
"I am but a fragment of a lost soul," the voice replied, patient and steady. "You humans gave me many names. But one in particular… I have grown fond of."
Meng Xuan's breath caught. "What do you want from me?"
He had heard stories of demons possessing cultivators in the demonic zones. Sacred Soldiers always hunted them down, killing host and parasite alike. The thought sent dread through his veins.
But the voice only asked a question in return.
"Child of curse, do you wish to quit being a weakling?"
A chill ran through him.
"Accept me, fiend monk… and I shall teach you the path even heaven fears."
Fiend monk.
The name stirred something in Meng Xuan. He remembered his mother's tales of the primordial war. How Lucifer had risen against the heavens before he was cast into the eternal sky prison. The enemies of that war had been the holy ones.
"Impossible," Meng Xuan muttered. "If you were truly Lucifer, you would still be chained in the sky prison."
The voice chuckled, low and cruel, at the mention of the prison but said nothing.
Meng Xuan pressed on. "Why me?"
"You are the only vessel strong enough to hold this fragment. Even I cannot see all the secrets buried within you," the voice said, weary yet firm.
"And if I refuse?"
"Then we both perish."
A sudden glow lit the darkness. A skeletal head materialized, its hooded visage floating above him. But it was the eyes that stole Meng Xuan's breath—black hollows that swirled like bottomless pools of death.
Cold dread sank into his bones. His desires, his regrets, his buried dreams all surfaced before his eyes.
An illusion. The kind used by demonic beasts to break one's will.
He clutched his head, teeth grinding as the demonic energy seeped deeper. His vision blurred. His eyes reddened, as though another will was seizing his body.
"Will I… just watch myself be possessed?" he thought desperately.
Something inside him snapped.
"I knew you were hiding something," the voice growled. "So I'll force it out!"
The scene shattered.
An endless black ocean churned beneath a pale moon. A woman stood on the water, her brunette hair drifting in the wind, her dark-blue eyes gleaming faintly. Light shimmered beneath her feet, holding her aloft like a divine platform.
Facing her was a young man cloaked in sinister energy. His grin was wicked, his aura demonic.
"God's Eye divine essence art," he muttered, narrowing his eyes. "So that's how you foresaw today. You left behind your yang soul in your son's body… to protect him."
The woman said nothing. Her face was blank, soulless, as though she were acting on instinct alone. Then her body rose slowly into the air. Silver light wrapped around her, forming a Valkyrie's armor that fit her slender frame like a celestial second skin.
The demonic man flinched.
"Her aura… she's close to the Eminence Stage."
The armor shimmered as the woman floated higher. An icy gale swept across the black ocean. Blizzard winds howled. Everything froze—waves, air, even space itself.
Above her, countless swords of ice manifested, each one radiating killing intent so sharp it made Meng Xuan's soul tremble.
"An ice element cultivator," the demonic man hissed. "Troublesome."
His body flared crimson, demonic flames twisting around him. The ice swords evaporated into mist as the fire devoured them.
Meanwhile, beyond this vision, the guild had their own battle.
The protective formation shielding their camp shattered. The earth shook as mutated goblins—hundreds of them—charged forward. These were not the weak ones they had slain earlier, but bloodthirsty monsters radiating killing intent.
The guild members froze, despair dawning on their faces.
"Everyone, activate the returning coins!" someone shouted.
"Damn it! He tricked us! We're in a danger zone—wait… where is he?!"