The ruins of the Fallen Saints stretched endlessly, broken columns and shattered statues marking the tomb of a civilization long past. Shen Zong's calm eyes scanned the area, noting the faint pulses of lingering qi—ancient, malevolent, and untamed.
It was there, beneath a collapsed altar, that he noticed it: a faint symbol, barely visible, etched into the stone floor.
An entrance… concealed by centuries of rubble.
Shen Zong knelt, tracing the mark with a finger. The phantom lotus stirred, petals twitching in anticipation. A faint hum resonated from the stone, harmonizing with the lotus, almost as if it recognized a kindred spirit.
With a single push of his obsidian blade, the rubble shifted, revealing a spiral staircase descending into darkness. A cold, demonic aura seeped upward, tangling with the black lotus energy in his chest.
Perfect. Shen Zong's voice was calm, almost playful. "Let's see what treasures you have for me."
---
The chamber below was massive, far larger than the ruins suggested. Shadows writhed across the walls, and ancient glyphs glowed faintly with cursed qi. In the center lay three relics, each radiating a terrifying aura:
1. A black gauntlet, etched with inscriptions that pulsed like a heartbeat, promising the wearer enhanced demonic power.
2. A vial of crimson liquid, swirling with qi that seemed alive, whispering of forbidden techniques.
3. A coiled whip of shadow, capable of extending impossibly long, devouring both qi and flesh alike.
Shen Zong approached, calm and calculating. His hand hovered over the gauntlet first. The moment he touched it, shadows surged, intertwining with the lotus. Pain lanced through his body, but with it came understanding—the ancient techniques of a fallen demon cultivator merging with the Cursed Lotus Scripture.
Qi Refinement… Fourth Stage! The scripture hissed in delight.
Shen Zong smiled faintly, blood trickling from the corner of his lips. It grows faster than I imagined. Every relic… every kill… every step… feeds the lotus.
He left the vial untouched for now, sensing that patience would extract greater benefit later. Instead, he picked up the coiled whip. The shadows of the whip wriggled like serpents, responding to the lotus within him. A single flick sent black tendrils shooting into the walls, consuming residual energy and leaving them charred.
Power surged. Shen Zong's chest mark pulsed violently, petals of the lotus radiating an intensity he had never felt before.
Immortality is within reach, he thought, calm and ruthless. But every step comes at a price… every power demands sacrifice.
---
Unseen, high above the mountains, scouts of both the Azure Cloud Sect and the Verdant Peak Sect observed the ruins.
"He's entered the hidden chamber," one scout whispered through the jade talisman. "Reports say he wields relics now… the Cursed Lotus Scripture alone is terrifying, but with these relics…"
The other scout's eyes widened. "We must report this immediately. If he continues unchecked, no sect—no mortal—can stand against him."
Even in the darkness, Shen Zong felt it—the world moving, watching, hungry to challenge him. He smiled faintly, petals of the lotus quivering with anticipation.
Let them come.
He had grown beyond hunters and sect disciples. He had become a predator.
And soon, the world would learn fear.