The cliff was silent once more.
Shen Zong sat cross-legged among the corpses, his body drenched in blood that was not entirely his own. The night wind cut through his wounds, peeling open flesh that should have killed him a dozen times over.
And yet, he lived.
No—he endured.
Every pulse of his heart was pain. Every breath seared his lungs. His veins burned with demonic qi, trying to devour him from within even as his cursed fate rebuilt his body without rest.
Immortality… is not without cost, he thought. His hands trembled, not from fear, but from the struggle of keeping control. For every wound that healed, his demonic qi spread further.
It whispered to him. Promises of power, of endless slaughter, of dominance over heaven and earth.
But Shen Zong's gaze remained calm.
"I will use you," he murmured to the curse within, "not be consumed by you."
His path was clearer now—if he could endure this endless cycle of destruction and rebirth, he would surpass all shackles. Even the heavens would not bind him.
---
Far away, in the grand hall of the Martial Alliance, a storm was brewing.
Dozens of sect leaders sat in tense silence. Torches crackled against the gilded walls, shadows stretching like demons over their faces.
At the head of the hall, the Alliance Leader, Xuan Mingdao, struck his staff against the floor.
"Report."
The elder who had watched from the trees bowed deeply. His voice was heavy, but each word landed like thunder.
"Six assassins… all slain. None survived. Shen Zong not only withstood mortal wounds, but his body reconstructed itself before my very eyes. He has truly stepped onto the path of undying immortality."
Gasps rippled across the hall. Some sect masters slammed their fists on the table, others exchanged fearful looks.
One voice, trembling with anger, rose above the noise:
"If he is not eradicated now, he will become a calamity beyond control! What is one boy now will one day be the downfall of all righteous sects!"
Another sneered.
"Hmph. Are you all so cowardly? He is but one orphan, one stray dog from the gutters. Our Alliance has endured for centuries—do you truly fear a boy cursed by heaven?"
But an old monk's voice cut through, serene yet firm.
"No. You do not understand. The cursed ones walk outside destiny. If he has attained enlightenment through struggle, and if his immortality continues to grow… then even our Alliance may not contain him."
The hall fell silent. The Alliance Leader's eyes, sharp as blades, scanned the room.
"So be it," he said at last. "From this day forth, Shen Zong is to be marked a Heaven-Class Threat. All sects will mobilize. If he dares step into our territories, he will be annihilated."
The decree echoed like a death knell.
---
Back on the cliff, Shen Zong opened his eyes.
He did not know of the Alliance's council, yet a strange chill stirred in his chest, as though the world itself had shifted.
He smiled faintly, calm even in the face of encroaching storms.
"Good," he whispered. "Let them come. The more they fear me… the faster I ascend."
The moonlight gleamed upon his bloodstained figure. Alone, wounded, yet unyielding—already, the name Shen Zong was becoming a shadow that loomed over the entire Jianghu.