The infirmary was quiet. Only the faint smell of medicine and the flicker of lamplight disturbed the silence.
Ye Feng's eyelids trembled before finally snapping open. His gaze was sharp, bloodshot, filled with lingering madness.
Pain greeted him immediately—his body was broken, meridians fractured, blood essence depleted. By all rights, he should have been bedridden for months.
But what weighed heavier than the pain… was the memory.
Lin Tian… the altar… the sword… his smile.
Ye Feng's fists clenched, reopening half-healed wounds. Blood seeped into the sheets, but he didn't notice.
Ding!
[ System Notification: Host has awakened ]
[ Current Status: Severe injuries Cultivation temporarily crippled. Fate value dropping. ]
A low, twisted laugh escaped Ye Feng's throat.
"Fate value dropping… ha. What use is 'fate' when it can be stolen?"
The system hesitated before responding.
[ Suggested Action: Focus on recovery. The variable (Lin Tian) has destabilized your destiny thread. To restore balance—]
"Balance?!" Ye Feng snarled, his voice echoing through the infirmary. "There is no balance anymore. Lin Tian shattered it the moment he stole what was mine!"
His qi flared violently, cracking the wooden bed beneath him. The system's calm, mechanical voice flickered.
[ Warning: Host's emotions unstable. Risk of deviation from the original protagonist path: 68%. ]
Ye Feng's lips curled into a cruel smile.
"Deviation? Good. Let me deviate. Let me walk the path no one dares to."
At that moment, the faint whisper he had heard in the Ravine returned.
Do you want power? Enough to crush him? Enough to take back what was stolen?
Ye Feng's pupils dilated. His breath quickened.
"Yes… yes, I want it. No matter the cost."
Then abandon the heavens' script. Forge your own.
A searing pain tore through his dantian, but instead of despair, Ye Feng laughed wildly. His aura twisted, black threads of energy snaking into his body.
The system's mechanical voice stuttered.
[ Unknown interference intensifying… ]
[ Host's fate thread corrupted: 21%... 35%... 50%... ]
And still, Ye Feng didn't resist.
"Lin Tian… if the heavens favor you now, then I will favor the darkness. Even if I must become a demon… I will tear your destiny apart."
---
As the night deepened, the infirmary shook with the pulse of a new, sinister aura.
The world had birthed not just one villain.
But two.
And their collision was inevitable.
Within his secluded chamber, the glow of the Ancient Sword filled the darkness. Lin Tian sat cross-legged before it, his breath steady, his eyes sharp as a blade.
The hum of the sword had grown deeper, more resonant since his return from the Ravine.
Ding!
[ Synchronization Progress: 82% ]
[ Sword Spirit Communication Available. Proceed? ]
Lin Tian's lips curved upward. "Finally."
He pressed a drop of his blood essence onto the blade. Instantly, light erupted, and a vast mental world unfolded before his mind's eye.
As he stood within an endless void of stars. A colossal sword phantom towered before him, its aura cold, suffocating, drenched in endless slaughter.
So, you are the one who dares to wield me, a voice echoed, ancient and disdainful.
Lin Tian chuckled. "Wield you? No. I will own you."
The sword spirit roared, its killing intent like a storm. Thousands of spectral blades descended upon him, each sharp enough to sever mountains.
But Lin Tian's smile only widened. He didn't flinch, didn't retreat.
"Come then. Break me if you can. But if you cannot—" His eyes burned like molten gold. "—then you are mine."
His body tore, his soul screamed, yet his will never wavered. Each blade that pierced him was met with defiance, each wound licked clean by his burning intent.
Finally, the storm quieted.
The sword spirit stared down at him, cold, silent. And then, it knelt.
Very well, mortal. From today onward, your enemies are mine to cut. But remember… every sword demands blood.
Lin Tian opened his eyes. Back in the real world, the Ancient Sword pulsed with light, perfectly attuned to him.
Ding!
[ Sword Spirit Submission Complete. ]
[ New Ability Unlocked: Fate Severing Slash. ]
[ Effect: Attack infused with anti-fate energy. Damages destiny threads. ]
Lin Tian exhaled slowly, the corners of his mouth curling.
"Fate Severing Slash, hm? How fitting. Ye Feng, this will cut your thread beautifully."
---
Outside the chamber, news had already spread.
Lin Tian had not only returned with the Ancient Sword… he had subdued it.
Some disciples whispered in awe. Others in fear. Elders watched in silence.
But one thing was certain—
The sect's most insignificant young master had become a storm none could ignore.
And storms… demanded victims.
The infirmary was silent. Too silent.
Ye Feng sat on the shattered remains of his bed, eyes closed, his aura swirling chaotically. His once-pure spiritual qi had twisted—black veins of corruption ran through it, pulsing like a heartbeat.
The system's voice was trembling now, unstable.
[ Warning: Host's cultivation has deviated beyond recognition. Current path no longer aligns with Heavenly Mandate. ]
[ Consequence: Probability of divine punishment increased. ]
But Ye Feng only sneered.
"Punishment? Let the heavens try. They gave me destiny… then allowed him to steal it. If heaven betrays me, then I'll betray heaven itself."
He stood. The floor cracked beneath his feet, spreading like spiderwebs.
A young disciple entered the infirmary with a tray of medicine. "Senior Brother Ye, you—"
The words died in his throat.
Ye Feng turned, his crimson eyes glowing faintly under the moonlight streaming through the window. His aura pressed down like a mountain, suffocating.
The boy dropped the tray, trembling. "S-Senior Brother… you should still be resting—"
Ye Feng's hand shot out, gripping the boy by the throat. The disciple's legs kicked helplessly as he was lifted into the air.
"Tell me," Ye Feng whispered, his voice hoarse, venomous. "What are they saying of me… of Lin Tian?"
The disciple's eyes widened with terror. "T-they say… Lin Tian… he subdued the Ancient Sword… h-he's being praised by the sect… while you—"
Crack.
Bones snapped. The boy's words ended in a gurgle as his body went limp.
Ye Feng released him, letting the corpse drop like discarded trash. His hand trembled slightly—not from regret, but from the intoxicating rush of power.
The black aura coiled tighter around him, as though savoring the blood.
Ding.
[ New Trait Acquired: Blood Path Resonance. ]
[ Effect: Killing strengthens corrupted qi. ]
A cruel smile spread across Ye Feng's face.
"So this is the path you've given me, Lin Tian… good. Let it be paved in blood."
That night, a series of disappearances plagued the outer sect. Nobody saw the killer. Nobody heard the screams.
But the next morning, when three disciples were found drained of blood with twisted expressions of despair—rumors began to spread.
Rumors of something dark awakening within the sect.
The training arena of the outer sect was packed. Disciples gathered like moths to flame, whispering excitedly.
"Is it true? He's going to show it?"
"The Ancient Sword… we'll finally see if the rumors are real."
"I still don't believe it. How could trash like Lin Tian…?"
The chatter died instantly as Lin Tian appeared at the edge of the arena.
He was dressed in simple robes, yet his aura made the air itself tighten. In his hand, the Ancient Sword gleamed faintly, as though mocking the world with its brilliance.
Lin Tian's gaze swept over the crowd. The arrogance of his former self was gone. Now, his eyes were sharp, calculating, untouchable.
A sneering voice broke the silence.
"Lin Tian."
The speaker was Chen Wu, one of the stronger outer disciples, known for bullying Lin Tian in the past. His cultivation had already reached the 7th stage of Qi Condensation.
He stepped forward, smirking. "You walk around with that sword, acting high and mighty. But everyone knows—without talent, even the best weapon is wasted."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. To provoke Lin Tian openly… was Chen Wu courting death?
Lin Tian chuckled softly, his expression indifferent. "Ah, Chen Wu. The dog that used to bite me at every chance. How bold of you to bare your teeth again."
"You—!"
Before Chen Wu could react, Lin Tian raised the sword.
A single slash.
Silent. Swift.
The air cracked.
Chen Wu staggered backward, his sword shattering in his hands. Blood spurted across the arena as a deep gash split his chest. He fell to his knees, eyes wide with disbelief.
"You… you weren't… this strong—"
Lin Tian looked down at him with a cold smile. "That's because you've only ever known the old Lin Tian. That man is dead. I buried him in the Ravine."
He turned away, his robes fluttering as he walked out of the arena.
Behind him, Chen Wu collapsed unconscious in a pool of blood.
The crowd erupted.
"He defeated Chen Wu in one strike!"
"The sword… it's real! He really subdued it!"
"No… it's not just the sword. His aura… he's completely different."
From that day forward, one truth spread like wildfire through the sect—
Lin Tian was no longer the joke.
He was a storm.
And storms could not be mocked.