Thirty seconds.
That was the absolute limit of his endurance. To an outside observer, half a minute might seem like a fleeting moment, a mere hiccup in the flow of time. But for Luo Zhen, locked within the suffocating grip of the illusion, it was an eternity of psychic agony.
When the mental pressure finally became unbearable, he was forcibly ejected from the psychic construct, gasping for air as reality came rushing back. He hadn't failed because of weakness; he had failed because his opponent was simply too terrifying. The Nine-Headed Serpent, Jiuying, was a primordial force of nature, and surviving even thirty seconds against its phantom was a feat in itself.
As his breathing steadied, the rewards of his endurance manifested. There was no need for a mechanical system prompt to explain the changes; the knowledge flowed directly into his mind, instinctive and absolute. He had pried two new abilities from the essence of the great beast.
The first was the Earth Escape Technique.
Luo Zhen focused his intent, and a blinding, ochre light erupted from his skin. It wasn't just a visual effect; it was a fundamental shift in his interaction with matter. As the earthen glow enveloped him, the solid ground beneath his feet ceased to be a barrier. He dove downward, slipping into the soil as effortlessly as a diver piercing the surface of a calm ocean.
The world shifted. His vision was obscured by an endless expanse of yellow-brown silt and rock, impenetrable to the naked eye. Yet, he was not blind. His Spirit Sense expanded outward, cutting through the density of the bedrock like radar, mapping every fissure and stone in his vicinity.
Wrapped in that protective earthen aura, the soil felt like liquid against his skin. It flowed around him, offering no resistance. He surged forward, accelerating through the subterranean depths with a freedom that defied the laws of physics.
"It really lives up to its reputation," Luo Zhen mused, a thrill of excitement coursing through him as he navigated the crushing depths. "Another trump card for the deck."
Among the Five Elements, escape techniques were rare treasures. Whether Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, or Earth, each offered a unique path to survival. But Earth Escape was special. Its utility for evasion was unparalleled, arguably superior even to Water Escape. Once a cultivator drilled deep into the crust, separated from the surface by miles of rock and soil, they became virtually untraceable.
The only drawback was velocity. Compared to soaring through the open skies on a gale, swimming through the earth was sluggish. It wasn't a technique for long-distance travel; it was a technique for vanishing. But a flaw that small couldn't tarnish the brilliance of the skill.
Luo Zhen spent a while playing in the deep dark, mastering the nuances of the flow, before rising back to the surface. He shook off the dust, ready to test the second, more grotesque prize he had stolen from Jiuying.
It was the power of a second life.
He rolled his shoulders, focusing on the right side of his neck. There was a sickening, wet sound of flesh reshaping, bones knitting, and cells multiplying at an impossible rate. In moments, a second head erupted from his shoulder.
It was identical to his primary head—same features, same expression, same size. It sat there, sharing the real estate of his neck, creating a silhouette that was equal parts awe-inspiring and horrific.
Luo Zhen ran a hand over both scalps, feeling the strange reality of dual existence. With a sudden shimmer of light, he abandoned his human guise, exploding outward into his true form: a majestic Green Scale Flood Dragon, now stretching over two hundred meters in length.
The transformation rippled down his spine, and where there was once one dragon head, now there were two. He had become a Double-Headed Jiao, a creature of myth in the making.
Although he possessed two brains, he did not possess two minds. His consciousness remained singular. When both heads were active, his awareness settled into the Tanzhong acupoint—the center of his spiritual energy, located just to the right of his heart. From this command center, he piloted the two heads like a puppeteer controlling two complex marionettes. There was no bickering, no split personality, no lag. It was perfect synchronization.
He understood instinctively that this would hold true even if he eventually managed to cultivate all nine heads. His mind would remain the anchor in his chest, remote-controlling a hydra of destruction.
With a thought, the massive dragon shrank, condensing back into the form of a handsome young man in black robes. The second head retracted, sinking back into his body until he looked entirely human again. It was a perfect defense mechanism; he could hide the extra limb until the moment of combat, then unleash it for a surprise attack—or a resurrection.
That was the true value of the ability. An extra head was an extra life.
If an enemy were to decapitate him now, his body wouldn't falter. The second head would emerge, the wound would heal, and the fight would continue. If he could eventually grow three, he would have three lives. And if he could reach the pinnacle—nine heads, like the legendary Jiuying—he would undergo a fundamental metamorphosis.
At that stage, it wouldn't just be about extra lives. The Jiuying was practically immortal. To kill it, one had to sever all nine heads simultaneously. Cut them off one by one, and they would simply regenerate, an infinite loop of survival.
"I wonder how long it will take me to reach that level," Luo Zhen sighed, a mix of ambition and fatigue in his voice.
The path to becoming a world-ending calamity like Jiuying was long and arduous. He had been leeching off the great beast's power through these illusions for a long time, yet he had only just achieved the status of a Demon King and grown his second head.
He shook his head, clearing the chaotic thoughts. It was time to look at the numbers. He summoned his status interface. As the translucent blue screen flickered into existence, he saw that the data had updated to reflect his evolution.
Host: Luo Zhen
Race: Jiao Species (Tier 1 Saint Beast)
Species Name: Double-Headed Green Scale Jiao
Realm: Demon King (Early Stage)
Bloodline: Saint Tier 1
Innate Elements: Water, Fire, Ice, Lightning
Divine Ability: Phantom Light Eye
Defensive Physique: Green Jade Spirit Body
Key Skills: Earth Escape, Invisibility, Demon Shadow Descent
Equipment: Thunder Cloud Knife (Pseudo-Magic Treasure)
The text confirmed it: Double-Headed Green Scale Jiao.
He dismissed the screen with a wave of his hand. The validation was satisfying, but he had work to do. Now that he had condensed his Demon Infant and ascended to the Demon King realm, the stakes had changed. He needed a Natal Magic Treasure—a weapon linked to his very soul.
The System Store sold finished treasures, but they were exorbitantly expensive and, frankly, inferior for his purposes. A true Natal treasure needed to be forged by the cultivator, tempered with their own blood essence and spiritual imprint. Buying off the rack wouldn't cut it. He needed blueprints.
And then there was the matter of Red Rock City. Specifically, the fire attribute vein pulsates deep beneath its foundations. That energy source was the reason he had come to this region in the first place. It was time to put "Devour the Fire Vein" on his daily agenda.
"Patience," he whispered to himself. "Rice must be eaten one bite at a time. Roadmaps before journeys."
He began scrolling through the blueprint section of the System Store. He was deep in thought, comparing alloy compositions, when his sensory field twitched.
Luo Zhen froze. His Spirit Sense, now vastly more powerful than before, picked up disturbances over ten miles away.
Three familiar auras were fleeing in his direction, their energy signatures erratic and fading. Behind them, a pack of far more aggressive, bloodthirsty auras was closing the distance.
He expanded his perception.
Leading the chase were the three Poison Ant Demon Generals he had spared previously. They looked catastrophic—armor shattered, bodies laced with deep lacerations, stumbling through the sand in a desperate bid for survival.
"I didn't expect to see those three again," Luo Zhen muttered, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Well, fate is a strange thing. I suppose I can lend a hand one more time."
He blurred, vanishing from his spot as he shot into the sky, a streak of black lightning cutting toward the horizon.
The Rescue
Chen Mingyu, Hou Yulin, and Lin Xilu were running on fumes.
Every step was a gamble against gravity. Their lungs burned as if they were inhaling broken glass, and their wounds tore open further with every jarring impact against the hard earth. They were the Poison Ant Generals, feared in their own right, but today they were prey.
Finally, their bodies gave out. One by one, they collapsed, crashing into the dirt, chests heaving, sweat mixing with the grime and blood on their skin. They had nothing left.
Moments later, the inevitable arrived.
"Run! Why aren't you running now?"
The taunt came from a Lizard Demon General, the leader of the hunting party. He towered over them, gripping a massive iron spear, his reptilian face twisted into a sneer of triumph.
"You have the gall to attack the Black Market's personnel? You must have a death wish," the Lizard General spat, raising his weapon. "I'll do you a favor and send you to the West right now!"
The heavy iron spear hummed as it sliced through the air, aimed directly at their exposed necks.
The trio on the ground watched the steel descend. They had no strength to lift a finger, let alone dodge.
It's over, Chen Mingyu thought, a bitter resignation washing over him. No miracles this time.
They closed their eyes, bracing for the cold bite of steel.
Clang!
A deafening metallic ring shattered the silence.
The killing blow never landed. The Poison Ant generals snapped their eyes open to an impossible sight.
A blade of pure, condensed ice had flown from nowhere, striking the Lizard General's weapon with the force of a cannonball. The impact was so severe that the Top-grade Dharma Artifact—a weapon of immense durability—had been sheared cleanly in two.
The Lizard General didn't just lose his weapon; the kinetic force lifted him off his feet and hurled him thirty feet backward, tumbling through the dust.
"Who goes there?!" the General screamed, scrambling to his feet. He clutched the broken shaft of his spear, his eyes darting around wildly, fear replacing his arrogance.
He was a veteran fighter. He knew what a Top-grade Dharma Artifact was worth. It wasn't a twig; it was hardened steel enchanted with defensive wards. For a simple ice spell to slice it in half meant the caster possessed a cultivation level far beyond his comprehension.
Behind him, his subordinates froze, their morale evaporating instantly. If their leader was terrified, they were petrified.
On the ground, the Poison Ant trio exchanged bewildered glances. They realized simultaneously that they weren't dead.
"Our luck... surely it can't be this good?" Hou Yulin wheezed. "Which senior has come to save us?"
They struggled to sit up, scanning the horizon.
Before they could spot their savior, the air grew heavy. A crushing pressure descended from the sky—a spiritual weight so dense it felt physical. It was the Yaowei, the aura of a true monster.
"Demon King..." the Lizard General gasped, his knees buckling under the invisible weight. "This pressure... It's a Demon King!"
A figure dropped from the clouds, landing softly between the hunters and the prey.
With a casual flick of his sleeve, the newcomer dispersed the crushing aura, allowing the group to breathe again. He stood tall, dressed in immaculate black robes, his face handsome and youthful, untouched by the grime of the wasteland.
"Senior, it's you!" Chen Mingyu cried out, recognition cutting through his shock.
But as the realization settled, his jaw dropped. He stared at the youth, stammering, "Senior... you... When did you take human form?"
It was Luo Zhen. And he wasn't wearing a mask.
The shock rippled through Hou Yulin and Lin Xilu as well. They stared at him, their minds reeling. A complete human transformation? That was the hallmark of a Demon King. Unless he had consumed a rare Shaping Pill, there was no other explanation.
But the Shapeshifting Pill theory died as soon as it was born. The pressure they had just felt—that wasn't a trick. That was the raw, unadulterated power of the Demon King Realm.
But it made no sense. Just days ago, Luo Zhen had been a Half-Step Demon King. A terrifying prospect, yes, but still within the realm of logic. To bridge the gap, condense a Demon Infant, and ascend to the throne of a King usually took years, sometimes decades, of secluded meditation.
To do it in a few days? It was monstrous. It defied all cultivation logic.
Luo Zhen ignored their gaping mouths. He turned his gaze slowly toward the Lizard Demon General.
The Lizard General felt the blood freeze in his veins. The casual glance felt like a predator inspecting a piece of meat. He pieced it together quickly: the Poison Ant trio knew this young monster. The ice blade was his.
He wanted to run, but his orders from the Black Market were absolute. Caught between a rock and a hard place, he swallowed his fear and bowed, cupping his fists respectfully.
"Senior Demon King," he stammered. "This subordinate represents the Red Rock City Black Market. We are under strict orders to eliminate these three fugitives."
"These three are old acquaintances of mine," Luo Zhen said, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable finality. "I'm protecting them. You may leave."
The Lizard General hesitated. "But, Senior, the Black Market—"
"I didn't ask for a debate," Luo Zhen interrupted, his tone dropping a few degrees. "And there are no 'buts.' Keep talking, and you won't be leaving at all."
BOOM.
The suppression returned, heavier than before. It crashed down like a collapsing mountain.
The Lizard General and his squad didn't just buckle; they were slammed into the dirt. Knees cracked against stone, and blood sprayed from their lips as their internal organs struggled against the spiritual gravity.
"We're going! We're going!" the General screamed, his face pressed into the sand. "Please, Senior, spare us!"
"Scram."
Luo Zhen retracted his aura with a thought.
The Lizard General didn't wait to be told twice. He scrambled up, abandoning his dignity, and fled into the desert with his men trailing behind him like whipped dogs.
Once the dust settled, Luo Zhen turned back to the three battered figures on the ground.
"Now," he said, looking them over. "Why is the Black Market hunting you like dogs?"