The warehouse erupted into chaos as the Supreme Demon Blade revealed its true nature for the first time in a thousand years. What had been a simple storage facility moments before was now a nexus of power that warped reality itself, transforming mundane stone and wood into something approaching a sacred battlefield.
Li Wuchen stood at the epicenter of the transformation, no longer recognizable as the humble servant who had entered this space hours earlier. The black jade dagger in his hand had shattered into dozens of gleaming fragments, each piece hovering around him in perfect geometric patterns that defied both gravity and logic. The fragments moved in complex orbits, creating shifting mandalas of light that seemed to contain infinite depth and beauty.
"Stage One: Dance of Fragments," Wuji announced, his mental voice resonating with power that made the warehouse walls vibrate in harmony. "Let them witness what it means to challenge the Supreme Demon Blade."
The possessed disciples had frozen in place, their demonic controllers suddenly recognizing the magnitude of their error. The entities that had taken control of Chen Batian and his followers were ancient beings with knowledge spanning millennia, and they knew exactly what they were facing—a legend made manifest, a weapon that had once brought the entire martial world to its knees.
"Impossible," the Chen Batian-thing whispered, its voice now carrying harmonics of genuine terror. "The blade was sealed. The wielder died a thousand years ago. This cannot be happening."
"Your information appears to be incomplete," Wuchen replied, his voice carrying new harmonics that seemed to resonate from multiple dimensions simultaneously. The fragments around him pulsed with each word, creating ripples in the visible air that distorted perception itself.
The possessed Wang Lei made the first move, perhaps driven by desperation or simple inability to comprehend the futility of resistance. He launched himself forward with the enhanced speed and strength granted by demonic possession, his fists wreathed in dark energy that could shatter stone.
He never came close to reaching his target.
Three of the orbiting fragments intercepted his charge with casual precision, their movement so fast that they appeared to teleport rather than travel through intervening space. The first fragment struck his leading fist, and the dark energy wreathing it simply ceased to exist—not dispelled or overcome, but negated at a fundamental level that suggested the fragments operated according to different laws of reality.
The second fragment touched his chest, and Wang Lei's forward momentum reversed instantly, sending him flying backward with twice the force he had originally generated. The third fragment traced a complex pattern in the air that left glowing sigils hanging like burning letters, and suddenly Wang Lei found himself trapped within a cage of solidified light that held him as securely as steel bars.
"Interesting," Wuchen observed, studying the trapped disciple with analytical detachment. "The possession appears to be incomplete. The original consciousness is still present, merely suppressed."
"Crude work," Wuji agreed. "These demons lack the skill for true possession. They're simply riding along as parasites, enhancing the host's abilities while maintaining some control over actions."
The revelation changed the tactical situation significantly. If the disciples could be freed from demonic influence without permanent harm, then Wuchen's response could be more measured than total annihilation. The fragments shifted their orbital patterns slightly, adjusting for capture rather than destruction.
The remaining possessed disciples attacked simultaneously, their coordination perfect but their strategy fundamentally flawed. They were operating on the assumption that Wuchen was simply another cultivator with unusual techniques—powerful perhaps, but still bound by the same basic limitations that governed all martial arts.
They could not have been more wrong.
Liu Feng came in low, attempting to sweep Wuchen's legs while launching a barrage of qi-enhanced strikes at his torso. Zhou Ming attacked from the right flank, his sword trailing streams of cultivated spiritual energy that should have been impossible to dodge in the confined space. Fatty Zhao, displaying unexpected agility for someone of his bulk, attempted to pin Wuchen from behind while the possessed Chen Batian prepared what was clearly intended to be a finishing blow from the front.
The coordinated assault would have overwhelmed most Core Formation cultivators, and the demons controlling the disciples had calculated angles and timing with mathematical precision. It should have been an inescapable trap.
Instead, it became a demonstration of why the Supreme Demon Blade had once been considered the most dangerous weapon in existence.
The fragments didn't just intercept the attacks—they rewrote the fundamental nature of the confrontation itself. Where Liu Feng's sweeping kick should have found Wuchen's ankles, instead it encountered a fragment that had somehow repositioned itself to absorb the impact while simultaneously redirecting the energy back through his own body. The disciple found himself launching involuntarily into a graceful backflip that carried him safely away from the battle while leaving him too disoriented to mount another immediate attack.
Zhou Ming's sword struck what appeared to be empty air, only to discover that one of the fragments had inserted itself between blade and target at the exact moment of contact. The collision sent resonant vibrations through his weapon that made it impossible to maintain his grip, and the sword went spinning away to embed itself harmlessly in a wooden support beam.
Fatty Zhao's attempt to grapple from behind met with the most elegant counter of all—the fragments simply rearranged themselves to create a slippery field of force that made contact impossible. He slid past Wuchen like water flowing around a stone, his momentum carrying him into a gentle collision with a stack of grain sacks that cushioned his impact.
Only Chen Batian's attack posed any real threat, and even that was relative. The demonic entity controlling him had managed to channel significant power into what should have been a devastating finishing technique—a spear-hand strike enhanced with enough dark energy to punch through fortress walls.
The fragments met his attack head-on, but instead of simply blocking or redirecting it, they did something far more sophisticated. They analyzed the structure of the demonic energy, identified its weaknesses, and then systematically dismantled it piece by piece. The dark power that had enhanced Chen Batian's strike was first isolated, then purified, then converted into harmless spiritual energy that dissipated into the ambient atmosphere.
Without the demonic enhancement, Chen Batian's attack became merely human—strong by normal standards, but nothing that Wuchen's enhanced physical condition couldn't handle. He caught the young master's wrist with casual ease, their eyes meeting for a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity.
"I can see you in there," Wuchen said softly, speaking to the trapped consciousness rather than the demonic parasite. "Hold on. This will be over soon."
For just an instant, Chen Batian's eyes cleared, and the real young master looked out through them with desperate gratitude. Then the demon reasserted control, snarling with frustration as it realized the hopelessness of its situation.
"What are you?" it demanded, speaking through Chen Batian's mouth. "This level of power should be impossible for a mortal to achieve."
"I'm exactly what your masters feared I would become," Wuchen replied, the fragments beginning to pulse with increasing intensity. "The one thing they cannot control, cannot corrupt, and cannot defeat—someone who wields power without being corrupted by it."
"Shall we end this?" Wuji asked, though the question was more courtesy than genuine inquiry.
"Yes. But gently—these are still innocent people being used as pawns."
The fragments suddenly accelerated in their orbital patterns, becoming rings of pure light that surrounded each of the possessed disciples. The demons within them screamed as they found themselves being systematically extracted from their hosts—not through violent exorcism, but through a process that was more like careful surgery performed on a spiritual level.
One by one, the dark entities were separated from the disciples and contained within crystalline prisons formed from solidified fragments. The demons raged and threatened, but their words became increasingly distant and distorted as the crystals that held them began to fade from the visible spectrum.
"They will return to whatever realm spawned them," Wuji explained as the last of the possessing spirits vanished from sight. "Considerably chastened, one hopes, and with a clear understanding that we are not to be trifled with."
The disciples collapsed as their enhanced strength and coordination disappeared, leaving them unconscious but unharmed on the warehouse floor. The fragments slowly began to coalesce back into the familiar form of the black jade dagger, settling into Wuchen's waiting hand with a sensation like greeting an old friend.
For a moment, the warehouse was utterly silent except for the sound of his own breathing. Then, from somewhere in the direction of his consciousness, came a familiar chiming sound:
Supreme Demon Blade Status Update
Stage 1 Awakening Complete!
Synchronization: 15.3%
New Ability: Dance of Fragments [ACTIVE]
Experience Gained: +500 XP
Risk Level: Safe → Low
"Excellent work," Wuji commented with satisfaction. "You handled that with exactly the right balance of power and restraint. The fragments responded to your intentions perfectly."
Wuchen looked around at the unconscious disciples, already planning how to explain their condition when they were inevitably discovered. "What happens now?"
"Now we prepare for the real test. This was merely a probe—a way for our enemies to assess our capabilities. They will return with greater numbers and more sophisticated strategies."
"Let them come," Wuchen said quietly, tucking the dagger back into concealment. "At least now I know what we're capable of."
As he prepared to leave the warehouse and rejoin the chaos of the sect's emergency response, Li Wuchen caught sight of his reflection in a polished metal surface. The face looking back at him was still recognizably his own, but something fundamental had changed. The eyes held depths that spoke of power accepted and responsibility embraced.
The servant boy was gone forever. In his place stood someone who would reshape the martial world itself.