The pill seared as it went down.
Feng Tianlan's throat clenched, tears streaming as the purple-black thing dissolved and spread through his body like liquid fire. His desiccated meridians—hadn't felt real power in what, fifty years?—suddenly flared like spirit essence igniting dying embers.
"Shit, shit, shit—" he gasped, then his whole world tilted.
His bones began to crack. Not the gentle stretching kind—the violent, something's-very-wrong kind. Muscles reduced to twine over the decades suddenly bulged, bursting through his funeral robes as if they were paper. The Golden Core that had been his pride for two centuries wavered—then imploded.
"Ancestor!" Sect Master Feng lurched forward, but Elder Bai grabbed his arm with bloody fingers.
"Don't," he wheezed. "Don't get close to that."
Because something was forming where the Golden Core used to be. A thumb-sized figure, sitting cross-legged in his dantian. A fucking Nascent Soul. But this wasn't how it was supposed to happen—where were the months of careful preparation? The gradual breakthrough? The—
Feng Tianlan screamed.
Not the dignified cry of a cultivator ascending to higher realms. This was unspeakable agony, the sound of natural law being twisted into shapes it was never meant to take. Violet veins snaked up his arms like something alive, and his eyes rolled back until only the whites showed.
Spiritual pressure slammed into them all at once. The few disciples still standing collapsed like sacks, gasping for air that suddenly felt viscous as molasses.
"What the hell is happening?" someone whispered.
"Late-stage Nascent Soul," an inner disciple croaked, his voice cracking with disbelief. "In thirty seconds. That's... you can't just..."
But apparently you could, because it was happening right in front of them. His broken body reassembled itself, piece by piece. His bent spine snapped straight with noises like breaking branches. Gray hair darkened. Wrinkled skin smoothed over muscles that remembered strength.
When he finally stood up, the courtyard went dead quiet except for the crackling of purple energy dancing around his hands.
"Well," he said, rolling his shoulders like he'd just woken up from a really good nap. His voice was different now—younger, carrying the kind of authority that made mountains listen. "That was... unpleasant."
A few disciples started crying. Others just stared, minds trying to process what they'd just witnessed. Their ancestor, who'd been one foot in the grave minutes ago, now stood there radiating power that made their teeth rattle.
Feng Tianlan turned to face Xiao Hei, and for the first time since this nightmare started, he smiled like he meant it.
"Allow me another attempt," he said, each word dripping with confidence that actually felt real this time. "I'm Feng Tianlan. Founded this place. Spent two hundred years stuck at peak Golden Core." He spread his arms wide, purple energy swirling around him like a personal storm. "And I'm the one who's gonna kill you."
Behind him, the disciples straightened up a little. Maybe—just maybe—this could work out after all.
"See, here's the thing," Feng Tianlan continued, warming up to his explanation like a teacher who finally had everyone's attention. "This realm enforces limits. The Heavenly Dao here won't let you go past peak Golden Core. Period. End of story. Been that way since... well, forever."
He flexed his fingers, watching purple sparks dance between them. "But this little beauty?" He tapped his chest where the pill had dissolved. "It doesn't ask permission. Forces the breakthrough whether the world likes it or not."
Xiao Hei still hadn't moved. Hadn't even blinked.
"The beautiful part," Feng Tianlan went on, getting excited now, "is I haven't technically left this realm. I'm still here, still bound by the same basic rules. But I'm operating with power that shouldn't exist in this place. You get what that means?"
"It means," Xiao Hei said quietly, "you swallowed garbage and convinced yourself it's gold."
The smile on Feng Tianlan's face stuttered. Just for a second.
"Interesting approach," Xiao Hei continued, his tone carrying the same mild curiosity you'd use to discuss the weather. "Forced breakthrough through external means. Bypassing natural law with cheap tricks." He tilted his head slightly, like he was examining a mildly amusing bug. "But when you're facing real power... what's any of that matter?"
Way up in the sky, beyond where mortals could see or think, the Heavenly Dao of this realm suffered an existential hiccup.
It had been watching since the moment that... thing had shown up. Because that's what it was—not human, not really, despite the shape it wore. The Dao knew power when it felt it, and this creature wielded power that could split worlds like eggshells.
The old man's pill trick? Yeah, that was a violation. A clever little workaround that exploited loopholes in the fabric of heaven's decree. Under normal circumstances, lightning would've fallen. Tribulation would've sorted things out with extreme prejudice.
But these weren't normal circumstances.
The Dao had felt what the black-clad figure really was the second he'd stepped foot here. This wasn't someone you punished. This was someone you very politely ignored and hoped he didn't decide to mess with your world.
As long as he didn't break everything, his presence was... manageable.
The ancestor could play with his pill. It really didn't matter.
"Look," Feng Tianlan said, his voice dropping to something almost reasonable. The purple energy around him dimmed, like he was trying to look less threatening. "We don't gotta be enemies here. The Purple Moon Pavilion serves someone. Someone with serious power, serious connections. Someone who could make it worth your while to... reconsider your position."
A few disciples traded looks. Their ancestor was trying to negotiate? After all this?
"You're obviously not from around here," Feng Tianlan continued. "Fourth realm? Fifth? Hell, maybe you're on the same level as our benefactor." He spread his hands in what was probably supposed to be a friendly gesture. "Think about it. Join up with us. Work for our guy. I promise the benefits would be... substantial."
Sect Master Feng felt his heart do a little skip. If the ancestor could actually recruit this monster, if they could turn this whole disaster into an opportunity...
Xiao Hei stared at him for a long moment.
Then he laughed.
It was worse than the killing intent had been. Not cruel, not mocking—just genuinely amused, like a dad watching his kid insist they could shoulder a mountain. That casual dismissal hit harder than any insult could've.
"You think that trash pill puts you in my league?" Xiao Hei was still chuckling, shaking his head. "You think breaking through one little realm suddenly makes you relevant?"
He took one step forward. The spiritual pressure doubled.
"Doesn't matter how much poison you swallow. An ant's still an ant. It's not gonna turn into a dragon."
Feng Tianlan's face went cold. The reasonable mask slipped off, replaced by the kind of acceptance you see in soldiers before a hopeless charge.
"Guess there's nothing left to talk about."
He moved.
Late-stage Nascent Soul power exploded outward as Feng Tianlan launched himself forward, both hands wreathed in purple energy that could've leveled a city block. His speed was insane—a blur that left afterimages trailing like pale ghosts.
Xiao Hei sidestepped as if shooing a fly.
Feng Tianlan's fist, packed with enough power to crater a mountain, sailed through empty air. He spun, course-correcting, unleashing a barrage of strikes that would've turned a Golden Core expert into paste.
Every single one missed by inches.
"Stand still and fight, you bastard!" Feng Tianlan snarled, his composure finally cracking. Sweat was already beading on his forehead as he poured more qi into each attack, purple energy crackling around his limbs like trapped lightning.
Xiao Hei yawned.
The next ten minutes were just painful to watch. Feng Tianlan threw everything he had—palm strikes that shattered stone, kicks that split the air itself, energy blasts that carved trenches in the courtyard. He moved like a man possessed, his artificial power making him faster and stronger than he'd ever dreamed.
None of it mattered.
Xiao Hei moved with the lazy grace of someone swatting mosquitoes. A casual deflection here, a small step there. He wasn't even using techniques—just raw, overwhelming superiority that made all of Feng Tianlan's desperate efforts look like a schoolyard tantrum.
After what felt like forever, Feng Tianlan stumbled back, chest heaving. His fancy new robes were shredded, his face flushed with exhaustion and growing panic. "How?" he gasped. "I broke through the world's fucking threshold. I went beyond what should be possible. How are you still—"
"Because," Xiao Hei said, not even breathing hard, "you're still thinking small."
Over by the broken walls, the surviving disciples huddled like children in a thunderstorm.
"What do we do?" whispered some outer disciple, voice shaking so bad he could barely get the words out. "Should we... I mean, should we help the ancestor?"
The question just hung there. A few of the braver inner disciples fingered their weapons, but their hands were shaking too much to be useful anyway.
Elder Bai, still slumped against a cracked pillar and looking half-dead, let out a bitter laugh that turned into a coughing fit. "Help? You wanna help with that?" He waved weakly at the one-sided beatdown happening in front of them. "Look at it, kid. Really look."
The disciples looked. They saw their ancestor—transformed, empowered beyond anything they could've imagined—getting casually batted around like a practice dummy.
"That's not our fight anymore," Sect Master Feng said quietly. His voice carried the weight of absolute, crushing defeat. "That's... that's beyond us. Beyond everything we know."
One of the younger disciples started crying openly. "But the ancestor... he's gonna..."
"Yeah," Sect Master Feng replied. "He probably is."
Feng Tianlan could feel a chill like ice crawling up his spine. Every technique he'd perfected over centuries was useless. Every advantage that pill had given him was meaningless. He was fighting something that played by rules he didn't even know existed.
His hands shook as he reached into his spatial ring, fingers finding the smooth piece of jade between his fingers—warm with symbols that made his eyes water just looking at them.
"You," he said, his voice hoarse from exertion and fear that tasted like copper in his mouth. "You made me do this."
Xiao Hei raised an eyebrow, finally showing a flicker of interest.
The jade felt warm against Feng Tianlan's palm—warm with promises he wasn't sure he wanted to cash in. The mysterious benefactor had been real clear about when to use this thing: only when you're about to die. Only when there's absolutely no other option.
Well, death was looking pretty inevitable right about now.
"My benefactor," Feng Tianlan said, his voice getting stronger with desperation, "doesn't abandon his investments."
He crushed it between his fingers.
The reaction was immediate and wrong in ways that made the whole place shiver. The broken pieces dissolved into sickly light that spiraled up, forming a sigil that hurt to look at directly. The spiritual energy in the courtyard went completely haywire, fluctuating like a disrupted qi flow as something vast and alien pressed against the boundaries of their world.
The surviving disciples screamed and covered their eyes. Even Sect Master Feng, weak as he was, felt his cultivation base shake under whatever was trying to claw its way through.
Feng Tianlan smiled through his exhaustion and bone-deep terror. "Let's see how confident you are when you meet my patron."
The sigil pulsed once, twice—then started tearing open like a wound in the world itself.
Xiao Hei watched the whole thing with the kind of mild curiosity you'd show an interesting but ultimately harmless magic trick.
Something was coming through that tear. Something that definitely didn't belong in this realm.
And in the growing darkness beyond that opening, eyes like smoldering stars began to blink open.