The divine beast egg trembled uncontrollably. The arrogance, the pride—it was all gone. The smug, bossy tone it had once taken had vanished without a trace, leaving only raw fear.
Song Wanníng couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, how quickly the mighty had fallen. Just moments ago, it was still acting all high and mighty."
But her smile quickly faded. Her gaze turned somber. The Celestial-Tomb, while effective in suppressing the divine beast egg, was still riddled with danger. Even for her, it was no place to take lightly.
Fortunately, she had entered the tomb in her previous life. She knew some of its secrets—enough to navigate the traps, at least for a while. Clarity surfaced for a fleeting moment, allowing logic to take the lead… but that moment didn't last. Her thoughts quickly twisted, corrupted by the whisper of darkness curling in her chest.
She pushed the egg forward, sending it hurtling toward the mysterious symbol. Somewhere deep within the cave, a primal scream erupted.
"Let me out! Let me—AAAHHH!!"
The shriek lasted all of three seconds before it was suddenly cut off.
Silence fell.
The cave was now deathly still.
Thud—!
Song Wanníng landed hard, the divine beast egg tumbling beside her as they crashed onto solid ground. Pain jolted through her spine, forcing a grunt from her throat, but she recovered quickly. Her body was resilient, honed through countless battles.
She stood up immediately, barely sparing the egg a glance.
Her brows furrowed, eyes darkening with grim realization.
"This… isn't the Celestial-Tomb."
Her voice was calm but sharp, each word laced with tension. The space around them didn't feel right. Her spiritual energy had been sealed the moment they arrived. That had never happened in the real Celestial-Tomb.
"Could it have shifted again?" The Celestial-Tomb was a fragmented dimension. It was known to appear in different locations depending on spatial drift.
She had always assumed it ended up in the demon race's territory for the sake of the female lead's arc.
But this… this wasn't it.
And if her spiritual power was sealed yet she could still sense the flow of something, then the answer was obvious.
This place wasn't the Celestial-Tomb.
Her unease deepened, tightening like a coil in her gut.
Was this Heaven's will interfering again?
Trying to protect the egg?
Trying to stop her from killing it?
The moment the thought formed, dark energy surged through her heart. The resentment she had worked so hard to suppress came roaring back. In her sea of consciousness, the demonic aura erupted in a frenzy.
"You lot—what are you doing?! Get back!" The golden sword spirit panicked. As usual, it tried to suppress the demonic energy inside her. But this time… the darkness didn't listen.
It flooded her meridians like a storm breaking free of its cage.
"No—no good, Big Sister!" the sword cried out, darting to her shoulder in a blur of golden light. "I can't hold it back anymore! The demonic qi isn't listening!"
The little sword was shaking. It knew what this meant. It had seen what happened to her in her previous life. It remembered what followed when she truly lost control.
She had done so much in this life to avoid that fate.
She couldn't lose herself again.
She couldn't fall.
But the expected panic never came.
Song Wanníng's expression remained composed. Too calm.
Then, she raised a hand. In a single motion, she struck out toward the distance.
A vortex of demonic energy burst forth like a tidal wave.
The grassy field in front of her evaporated instantly into gray ash. Dust rose in soft layers and drifted gently into the wind.
The golden sword froze, stunned. It turned slowly toward her.
Had… had she fallen?
Had she become a demon again?
Or…
Was she controlling both spiritual and demonic energy at the same time?
That should have been impossible. She was a Dao cultivator, born of light and order.
The sword spirit could hardly process it.
But Song Wanníng herself was no less shaken.
She had controlled the demonic energy with ease.
Too easily.
It had felt just like it did in her past life, flowing through her veins like an extension of her will. Almost as if… she had been born this way.
And then she realized something else.
Here, in this strange place, she couldn't use spiritual energy at all.
But she could use demonic qi freely.
Her heart sank.
She stared into the haze, thoughts spinning fast.
This wasn't the Celestial-Tomb.
If she was right…
This might be the grave of the Demon Lord.
That would explain everything. Why spiritual energy was sealed. Why demonic energy flowed without restriction. Why the symbol had such an oppressive pull.
And it would also explain how she had entered this place at all.
She glanced down at her hands. Her body still carried the residue of demonic energy—was that how she'd passed through the gate?
"Let me out! You're insane!" the divine beast egg shrieked from the side, nearly frothing with panic.
But it didn't dare come closer.
Its only innate ability—its sacred Shenyou Mystic Fire—had been completely suppressed here. Gone. Snuffed out.
This place was its natural counter.
And the egg finally knew fear.
"You hear me? Let me out right now! I won't hold a grudge for all this!"
Its voice wavered, bluster fading beneath desperation. nBut even now, it couldn't bring itself to lower its head. That was a divine beast's pride.
Song Wanníng turned toward it slowly, expression unreadable.
Her eyes locked onto it.
"So… you still haven't learned your lesson."
Demonic energy coiled around her like smoke.
Her voice, soft and low, struck like ice.
The egg froze. In the depths of its soul, an ancient memory stirred—an inherited fear that wasn't its own. A vast, terrifying figure overlapped with the woman before it. That figure had once looked upon its ancestor and said, in that same soft voice: "Still not behaving? Tsk."
A single smile.
And the next moment, its ancestor had been reduced to dust.
"No!"
The memory slammed into the egg's mind like a hammer.
It screamed and scrambled backward in terror.
The blurred image in front of it—Song Wanníng—had become that being from its memory.
It couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
It had only one thought left.
Run.
The egg turned and fled.
It had been wrong.
It never should have messed with this human.
"Trying to escape?"
Her voice came again, light as a breeze—but to the egg, it was a death sentence.
It rolled. It bounced. It scrambled and tumbled forward, dignity be damned. If it had wings, it would have flown by now.
Anything to get away from her.
It didn't care anymore. Didn't care how it looked. It just wanted out.
It cursed her. Blamed her.
Never mind that it had once tried to kill her first.
None of that mattered.
It wasn't its fault.
Not really.
Song Wanníng stood in place, watching it tumble through the dirt like a frightened child. A faint smile curved her lips, touched with mockery.
The golden sword still rested on her shoulder. And for the first time, it felt fear too. It had always known its master to be calm, collected—even fierce when needed.
But cloaked in demonic energy, she seemed almost like a stranger.
Terrifying.
It shivered deep within its spirit core.
But even so, it didn't leave her side.
It knew her. Truly knew her.
She would never harm it.
So the little sword remained firm on her shoulder.
Someday, its master would stand tall above them all, calm and untouchable.
And those who had wronged her?
They would pay.
"Tired already?"
Song Wanníng's figure blurred, and she appeared directly in the egg's path.
The egg tried to stop, but inertia betrayed it. It rolled forward a few more times and came to a pathetic halt right at her feet. "I—I'm willing to sign a contract! A fair one! I swear!"
It had finally cracked.
Reality had beaten the pride out of it.
If it wanted to live, it had no choice but to submit.
"Oh?"
Song Wanníng tilted her head.
Then she looked down and smiled.