[Three months after the opening of the Blood Demon Secret Realm, a piercing spiritual light erupted into the sky, visible for miles. Cultivators from all corners of the world hurried toward the source, including you.]
[A day later, you arrived at the source. The light emanated from a hidden passage now opened in the earth, and throngs of people had already gathered. The stench of blood was overwhelming, so potent that even the flowers in nearby gardens seemed to wither and faint.]
[As you approached, the air thickened with an oppressive killing intent, dense enough to make each breath a trial. Despite the crowd, your eyes sought Mo Tianxuan—but he was nowhere to be found.]
[A pang of worry struck you. For a fleeting moment, you feared he might have perished. Yet the path of immortality spares no one. With a heavy heart, you pressed forward; opportunity waits for no one, not even for bonds of brotherhood.]
[Around you, cultivators from two major Holy Lands had assembled: the Holy-Sword Sect and the Zilei Holy Land. The Zilei Holy Land, a formidable Western Wasteland power, was predominantly composed of Body Cultivators and Thunder practitioners.]
[These forces sought only to control or eliminate anyone who might claim the Blood-Devouring Demonic Sword—a weapon capable of granting mortals the strength to challenge the strongest cultivators. Despite knowing you could leave safely, the lure of such power was irresistible. You chose to gamble with your life.]
---
[You stepped into the secret passage, scanning your surroundings. Horror filled you: skeletons lay everywhere, far exceeding the number you had seen in your previous explorations of the realm.]
[Before you could react further, a sharp weapon flashed toward you. Reflexively, you dodged, barely escaping. Cursing your distraction, you reminded yourself that even the smallest lapse could be fatal in a place teeming with killers.]
[Determined not to attract unnecessary attention, you engaged the attacker while masking your full strength. Every movement and grimace suggested struggle rather than mastery. The strategy worked; others barely noticed your fight.]
[After defeating your opponent, you found a secluded vantage point from which the Blood-Devouring Demonic Sword was visible. A chill ran down your spine.]
[The sword, blood-red and pulsating with malevolence, was surrounded by a mountain of skeletons—the remnants of countless warriors who had fought and died over it.]
[Shaking off thoughts of past battles, you refocused on the present. Every movement of others was carefully observed, each step measured.]
---
[A day later, a genius emerged victorious from the chaos, moving toward the sword. He placed his hands on the hilt, but shock contorted his features—he could not remove them.]
[Moments later, his body shriveled into a mummified corpse, joining the surrounding mountain of skeletons—yet another victim claimed by the sword.]
[Watching this, you felt a surge of confidence. "With my vitality, I can subdue this sword," you thought, brimming with resolve. Your Supreme Foundation and Prison-Suppressing Divine Body gave you an edge few others could hope to match.]
[Descending from your hidden position, you gathered the fallen cultivators' loot before moving toward the sword. When you placed your hands on the hilt, an overwhelming force began to drain your vitality.]
[As you immersed yourself in the sword's energy, a torrent of memories flooded your mind—visions of past winners who had touched the blade. Your consciousness fractured, multiple versions of yourself overlapping and struggling for dominance.]
[Half an hour later, you had subdued the sword. But your mind was chaotic, teetering on the brink of collapse.]
[Then a familiar voice cut through the turmoil: "My good brother Lin, you truly are a Supreme Foundation Builder. I wasn't wrong about you."]
[You recognized the voice. Mo Tianxuan appeared before you. Instinctively, you prepared to defend yourself, unsure whether he was ally or enemy.]
[Before you could ask, he attacked. Drained of vitality and disoriented by the chaotic memories, you were unable to react. Within moments, you fell.]
[A chilling word echoed in your mind: "Devour." Vitality drained further, and consciousness faded. Death loomed.]
[Just as you were about to vanish, a whisper reached your mind—voice neither male nor female: "Let's meet in another simulation."]
[For a brief instant, your senses returned. You saw a mysterious figure appear, effortlessly slaying Mo Tianxuan. Before darkness claimed you, a thought crossed your mind: "He is really strong."]
[Your death marked the end of this simulation.]
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Mysterious Figure's inner thought:
"Hehe, pretending to be mysterious in front of the protagonist… this is truly entertaining."
(Author's note: This inner thought is for readers' amusement and is unknown to the protagonist.)