By the time Shen Zong emerged from Blackwood Forest, the sun had risen high, casting a pale light across the scarred earth. The villagers, hiding in the shadows, dared not approach. They had seen the boy's power consume not only beasts but the Azure Cloud Sect's hunters themselves.
Shen Zong did not look back. The forest had served its purpose—he had grown stronger, his cultivation leaping again under the strain of battle and the cursed lotus. But he knew the quiet would not last.
---
Far across the mountains, word spread like wildfire.
In the Azure Cloud Sect, sect elders held emergency assemblies, their faces grim.
"Two hunters, elite enforcers of the inner sect, slain by a single boy," one elder reported.
"He wields the Cursed Lotus Scripture," another added, whispering as if the words themselves could summon the demon.
"This… cannot be allowed to continue. Prepare the inner disciples, the siege squads. If one boy can defeat hunters, what will he do against the sect itself?"
Orders were given. Masters were summoned. Armies of cultivators began to mobilize. Shen Zong's name, once unknown, now carried fear across the lands.
---
Meanwhile, in the shadowed halls of the Crimson Shadow Hall, the emissary who had first heard of Shen Zong's awakening bowed before the cult mistress.
"High Mistress," he said, voice low, "the boy has claimed Black Hollow, slain multiple sect cultivators, and survived the Blackwood Forest."
The woman's lips curved into a predatory smile. "Excellent. He grows stronger. Send a representative. I want him tested… and observed. If he bends, we may recruit him. If not, we prepare for war."
A hush of shadows swirled around her, whispering promises of power and ruin.
---
Shen Zong, meanwhile, traveled further into the wilderness, following the whispers of the Cursed Lotus Scripture. Each kill, each battle, each step into danger fed the black lotus within him.
He had no illusions. The world would come for him—both righteous and demonic. But the thought of running never crossed his mind.
Let them come. He thought calmly. Every attack is nourishment. Every fear is soil. Every death… blooms the lotus.
As he paused atop a jagged cliff, gazing at distant peaks, a faint wind carried the scent of blood and cultivation. The air thrummed with distant qi signatures—righteous sects gathering strength, demons stirring in the darkness, and ancient spirits whispering in the void.
Shen Zong closed his eyes, calm as ever, his chest mark pulsing brighter than the sun.
"Immortality… is waiting."
And somewhere in the shadows, both heavens and hells shifted, sensing the rise of a boy who would defy both.
The world of cultivation had awakened to a new predator.
And Shen Zong's journey had only begun.