Night blanketed the Lower Realms in quiet dread.
Yet in the deepest core of the realm, where even light hesitated to tread, Li Xuan sat unmoving within the Black Void Sanctuary, the core command chamber of his hidden citadel. A web of karmic lines extended from his body in all directions, piercing the walls of reality, touching countless lives—each thread connected to someone who had once stepped into his auction house.
From beggars to emperors, sacred beasts to ascendant cultivators, each had offered something in trade. And in doing so, had unknowingly bound their fate to him.
Tonight, Li Xuan didn't seek power.
He was forging dominion.
Seven shadows knelt before him—his Generals, the apex of his living force. Each one commanded armies and sects, organizations stretching across the million supporting realms that fed the Lower Realms.
None of them spoke.
Not until Li Xuan opened his eyes—eyes that now shimmered with a faint purple halo, the mark of someone who had touched karmic essence directly.
"General Xu," he said, his voice calm but commanding, "your region harbors a resistance movement. Cultivators who seek to overthrow our rule. Let them gather. Do not interfere."
Xu bowed. "As you command, Sovereign."
"General He," Li Xuan continued, "the Crimson Cloud Sect has allied with the Earthblood Dynasty. Stage a rebellion in their ranks. Feed them a traitor. Allow it to explode during their ascension ceremony."
"Yes, Sovereign."
Each command he issued was not to preserve peace, but to ignite chaos. He no longer saw life and death as good or evil. He saw only cause and effect. Spark and flame. Karma and consequence.
Behind his stillness was a storm of calculation.
He had reached the peak of control in the Lower Realms. Every realm, every city, every minor sect leader and major clan patriarch—each danced, unknowingly, to a tune only he could hear.
But there remained one step.
He turned to General Lin, the most silent and dangerous of the seven.
"I have prepared something for you," Li Xuan said. A scroll floated toward Lin, wrapped in twelve layers of sealing.
"A new mission?"
"No. A personal evolution."
Lin unsealed it, revealing a cultivation technique laced with Li Xuan's own karmic threads. It would empower Lin to reach new heights—but in truth, it was a method to entangle Lin's very soul to Li Xuan's will.
Loyalty would become dependency. Free will would become irrelevant.
"Use it tonight," Li Xuan ordered.
Lin bowed silently.
Then, Li Xuan stood.
Behind him, the Voidheart Enlightenment Sutra surged to life. Invisible threads of karma twisted through the air. Pain struck his soul like molten spikes. His knees buckled. Blood poured from his nose, ears, and eyes. But he did not stop.
His mind shattered and reformed.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Images flooded him—visions of the future, threads of betrayal, echoes of screams yet to be uttered. He saw sects fall before they rose. He saw children not yet born already marked by karma. He saw his own death… a hundred different ways.
And still, he pressed forward.
Pain is the price of sight, the Sutra whispered into his bones.
Moments later, a pulse of unseen energy erupted from his body. Every cultivator across the Lower Realms—every single one—felt a tremor in their soul. A vague sense of dread. A whisper they couldn't understand.
In that moment, Li Xuan broke past a karmic boundary no one had ever dared approach.
The very laws of the Lower Realms bent to accommodate him.
In the million supporting realms, strange phenomena erupted. Rain fell upward. Mountains cracked. Sacred beasts howled into the night. And in the deepest ancient tombs, slumbering beings stirred faintly—something had changed.
Back in the Sanctuary, Li Xuan stood among a circle of projections.
Each was a clone of himself—thirteen in total. Every one was stationed in a different part of the realms, operating independently, guiding sects, orchestrating wars, monitoring bloodlines.
He no longer needed to watch the world.
He was the world.
And yet… he felt nothing.
No pride. No joy.
Only clarity.
Power was never the goal. Comprehension was.
And to reach the next level of karmic truth, he would need to do the unthinkable. He would need to sever his own attachments. His legacy. His generals. His followers.
His realm.
He turned toward the vast map of the Lower Realms etched into his chamber floor.
Soon… they would all burn.
Not out of malice.
But to deepen the karmic abyss.
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