The Broken Soul Pavilion had long been a place of dread within the Scarlet Cloud Sect, a decaying wound on the mountainside that most disciples avoided like the plague. But tonight, the atmosphere within its crumbling walls was thick with something far more lethal than Old Man Qin's residual toxins. The air was heavy, freezing yet scorched, a paradox of energy that only someone walking the Inverse Path could generate.
Hua Sui sat cross-legged in the center of the hall, his silhouette cast long and jagged against the stone floor by the flickering soul-lamps. His eyes were closed, but his internal vision was clearer than ever. Inside his body, the Grey Seed in his Dantian was no longer a mere speck; it had grown into a pulsating core of chaotic energy, its surface etched with crystalline frost patterns stolen from Su Qing's essence.
The process of assimilation was a slow, agonizing grind. The Cold Marrow Essence he had plundered was noble and pure, the very pinnacle of orthodox cultivation. To his Inverse Meridians, it was like swallowing a diamond—beautiful, but sharp enough to shred him from the inside out.
Crack.
A sound like snapping timber echoed in the silent hall. It was the sound of Hua Sui's own collarbone fracturing under the immense pressure of the circulating Qi. He didn't flinch. He simply directed a stream of his grey, corrosive energy to wrap around the fracture, forcing the bone to knit back together even stronger than before. This was his life: a constant cycle of destruction and forced reconstruction. For him, pain was the only compass that proved he was still moving forward.
"Rank 5... is firm," he whispered, a cloud of grey vapor escaping his lips.
But Rank 5 was merely the beginning of the middle stages. To the sect, he was still a dying slave; to the world, he was a ghost. To survive the coming storm of the Great Sect Tournament, he needed to turn the entire Scarlet Cloud Sect into his personal garden of resources.
The sound of light, rhythmic footsteps approached the pavilion. The heavy iron doors, still warped from his breakthrough, groaned as they were pushed open.
Su Qing entered.
To any other disciple of the Ice-Dew Peak, she looked as radiant and haughty as ever. Her moon-white robes were pristine, and her face was a mask of cold, untouchable beauty. But as she stepped into the dim light, her eyes betrayed the truth. They were slightly glazed, the vibrant spark of her soul replaced by a dull, mechanical obedience. Deep within her sea of consciousness, the Puppet Soul Seed had extended its dark, thorny roots, wrapping around her every impulse.
"Master," Su Qing said, her voice devoid of its former silver-bell warmth. She knelt on the hard stone floor, her forehead touching the ground—a gesture of absolute submission.
"Report," Hua Sui commanded, not looking up from his meditation.
"My return to the Ice-Dew Peak has been accepted," she began. "I followed your instructions. I told Elder Mei that my change in aura was the result of a sudden breakthrough in seclusion. She was overjoyed. She believes I am finally awakening the true potential of the Cold Marrow."
Hua Sui's lips curled into a thin smile. Elder Mei was a Foundation Establishment expert, yet she couldn't see the rot at the heart of her prize disciple. To the world, Su Qing was a rising star; to Hua Sui, she was a hollowed-out vessel.
"Did she grant you access?" Hua Sui asked.
"Yes. I have been granted access to the Heavenly Ice Vault. I have been allocated a double stipend of Severing-Ice Stones and three vials of Spirit-Refining Marrow to stabilize my foundation."
Hua Sui finally opened his eyes. A flicker of greed, sharp and cold, danced in his grey pupils. Severing-Ice Stones were condensed from the coldest veins of the mountain. For a normal cultivator, they were a precious tool; for Hua Sui, they were the perfect catalyst to sharpen his Inverse Frost.
"Good," Hua Sui stood up, his movements fluid and predatory. "Every three days, you will return here. You will bring me half of the resources allocated to you. If the Elders ask why your progress has slowed, tell them that your new path requires a long period of 'bone-tempering.' Use the simplified Inverse-Ice technique I imprinted in your mind. It will mask the emptiness of your Dantian and make your Qi appear purer to their blunt senses."
Su Qing shivered—a reflex her body couldn't suppress. "But Master... if I take so many resources without showing a breakthrough, the Hall of Discipline might investigate."
Hua Sui leaned down, his translucent fingers lifting her chin. "Then you will make sure they don't. Use your beauty, use your status, use their own arrogance against them. If you fail..." he leaned closer, "...I will trigger the seed. You will die in a burst of grey flames, and I will be long gone before they even smell the smoke."
"I... I understand, Master," she whispered.
"Now, tell me about the Great Sect Tournament," Hua Sui said, turning back toward the massive, blackened cauldron.
"The tournament is in fifteen days," Su Qing reported. "The top three winners will each receive a True Foundation-Consolidating Pill. The overall champion will be granted ninety days in the Secret Realm of the Frozen Cloud."
Hua Sui's hand tightened on the edge of the cauldron. A True Foundation Pill. Unlike the blasphemous Blood Pills of Old Man Qin, a True Foundation Pill was a masterpiece of orthodox alchemy. For someone on the Inverse Path, it was a vital stabilizer. Without it, his body might eventually collapse from the pressure of his own energy.
"The Sect Leader's own pill..." Hua Sui mused. "It seems the heavens are finally providing a meal worth eating."
He looked at his reflection in the dark water. For五 years, he had been the fuel. Now, he was the fire.
"Go," Hua Sui commanded. "Bring the first batch of stones by the third watch of tomorrow night. And Su Qing... remember, you are no longer a person. You are a shadow. My shadow."
"Yes... Master."
As Su Qing vanished into the night, Hua Sui began to laugh—a dry, rasping sound. He picked up a jagged piece of bone from the floor and began to channel his Inverse Frost into it, carving forbidden runes. He wasn't just preparing for a tournament; he was preparing a slaughterhouse.
The "geniuses" of the Scarlet Cloud Sect were training in their luxurious caves, dreaming of glory. They had no idea that a Pill Slave was sharpening his blade in the dark.
"Fifteen days," Hua Sui whispered. "Fifteen days until the Scarlet Cloud turns grey."