The night was still. The moon rose high as a pale disc, its glow spilling upon the edge of the rough stone cliffs that circled the Abyss Tower. The tower stood silent and cold in the night sky, alone in the darkness, absolutely terrifying. No one visited the base of the tower without reason.
At this late hour, only two guards waited at the back gate of the black iron gates standing at the base of the tower.
Both guards wore the armor of their sect, and even in the protective robes, they felt uneasy. An older guard leaned casually against his spear, glancing with annoyance towards the very faint form of rhythm coming from deep within the tower, perhaps like wind or whispering or screams shifted by heat.
The younger guard, still new to this duty, shifted nervously. He had recently reached Middle Qi Condensation Realm, proud of his rank until now. But standing guard near this cursed place was making his heart race every time the tower breathed.
"Senior," the younger one muttered, looking at the towering black structure. "What… what exactly is the Abyss Tower? Why do we even use something this eerie? This place doesn't feel… right."
The old guard's expression tightened. He was at the Late Qi Realm, with wrinkles deepened by years of discipline. He looked at the tower with wary respect, as though watching a sleeping dragon.
"The Abyss Tower… no one truly knows where it came from," the old man began quietly. "Some say it existed before the sect itself, built by ancient gods or demons. Some say it's an artifact left over from the war between the heavens and the underworld. But we do know one thing—it's been here longer than our sect has stood."
"Longer than the sect?" The young disciple's eyes widened.
The veteran nodded slowly. "The tower…it's alive in its own way. It breathes energy, hums in the wind, and groans like something sleeping under the earth. You've heard those noises, haven't you? The whispers?"
The young man swallowed. "It sounds like… people screaming."
"That's because people do scream in there," the elder replied bluntly. "The Abyss Tower has ten floors, each one representing a natural element—flame, ice, thunder, and so on. The sect uses it as punishment for criminals, traitors, or anyone we can't kill directly. It's simpler to throw them in there. The tower eliminates them by itself."
The younger guard lowered his head, uneasy. "So the higher your cultivation… the higher the floor you're sent to?"
"That's right," the old soldier grunted. "Low-level disciples end up in the first or second floors where they burn or freeze. But the truly strong—the real monsters—get sent deeper, where horror isn't flame or frost but death itself. No one ever comes back from those levels."
The young man nodded nervously, watching the tower shudder occasionally as if breathing. "I see…"
Suddenly, the older man frowned and gestured for silence. A sharp metallic sound echoed in the distance.
"Did you hear that?" he said softly.
The two paused and glanced toward a flicker of light at the edge of the woods. It was an unnatural light, flickering inconsistently as if a lantern was being moved.
The older guard straightened, grasping his spear tightly. "Someone's there. Come on."
They moved toward the glow, caution turning their steps steady. But as they disappeared behind the rocks to check, five figures crept from the shadows on the opposite side of the path.
Hidden faces. Silent footsteps.
Five disciples, cloaked in dark red resistance robes, sprinted toward the tower's gate with cruel anticipation gleaming in their eyes.
Three of them—outer sect members—appeared young and reckless, their Qi Condensation cultivation faint but stable. The other two carried themselves with far greater confidence—inner sect disciples at early and late Foundation Stage respectively.
One of the inner disciples snickered as he fixed his black hood. "Heh, Senior Sister Mei'er's orders are simple enough. Kill one useless cripple and loot his corpse. How hard can that be?"
Another chuckled under his breath. "And if he's already dead, we'll just say we confirmed it and still claim credit!"
They stopped at the gate. The air shimmered faintly with residual heat, but their heavy fire-resistant robes dulled most of it.
"Ready?" the leading Foundation cultivator asked.
"Ready!"
They slipped into the tower like thieves in a mausoleum.
Deep within the Flame Domain, the oppressive heat raged silently—burning rivers flowed like molten veins through the rock. Lin Xuan sat cross-legged in his usual spot, lost in meditation. His breath was calm, his energy circulating rhythmically. The power of the Supreme Bone within him pulsed in harmony with the flames themselves.
But then… something stirred.
The lava around him rippled unnaturally. A faint whisper brushed his ear—not words, not sound, but intent.
From within the molten pool beside him, a deep, rumbling voice spoke.
"Master… some people are entering the tower."
Lin Xuan's eyes snapped open. The golden glow in them flickered. "People?"
The Magma Lord's voice was calm, steady as ever. "Yes. Five intruders. Their energy levels are weak. They've only just stepped through the first barrier."
Lin Xuan frowned, his expression darkening. The only ones who would risk entering this place at night had to be fools—or had a reason. "Can you identify them?"
A pause. Then, "Yes. Would you like me to eliminate them?"
Lin Xuan stood up slowly. "Not yet. I want to see them first."
Moments later, figures appeared at the edge of the crimson horizon.
And when Lin Xuan saw their faces, his chest tightened.
Recognition hit him like a blade.
Those faces—those sneers. These weren't strangers. They were people he once knew. Disciples who had spread lies about him, beaten him nearly to death, and laughed as he fell from grace. They were close friends and followers of his junior brother and sister, the same ones who helped frame him countless times.
They had come now, eager to finish what they started.
Lin Xuan's hands curled into fists. His eyes sharpened, the calmness within replaced by cold, rising fury.
The five disciples noticed him almost immediately and grinned.
"Well, what do we have here?" one of the outer disciples sneered. "Our dear fallen Holy Son! Hah, you're still alive, cripple?"
Lin Xuan didn't answer. His face stayed unreadable.
"Didn't expect to see you again, trash," said another disciple mockingly. "We've come to collect your head!"
Their laughter echoed cruelly through the hot air.
One of them spit to the side, raising his blade. "Still pretending to be silent? Looks like you have guts left. Let's put an end to this!"
The man dashed forward, Qi flaring around his sword. Though only late Qi Condensation, his confidence was overwhelming. He thrust directly toward Lin Xuan's neck.
The blade gleamed, cutting through the fiery light—
And stopped.
The sword came to a sudden halt… caught harmlessly between Lin Xuan's two fingers.
For a heartbeat, silence.
Then the disciple's eyes widened in terror. "How—how are you—?! You're supposed to be—!"
"I was crippled?" Lin Xuan said softly. His voice was calm but cold enough to freeze lava.
In one swift motion, his other hand shot forward, grabbing the disciple's wrist. His grip tightened. Bones cracked like dry branches.
"AHHHH!"
The man's scream tore through the chamber. Blood splattered the molten floor. Lin Xuan's fist then smashed into his face with inhuman strength. There was a wet crunch as the disciple's nose broke, blood spraying across the air.
The man dangled helplessly in Lin Xuan's grasp, unable to move.
"I still remember," Lin Xuan whispered, voice barely audible beneath the victim's screams. "When you five beat me within an inch of my life because I refused to kneel before my junior brother. When you mocked me for protecting my sister. When you spread rumors that I… frequented brothels for pleasure."
His fingers closed again, twisting bones one by one. Each snap was followed by a new shriek.
"AAAAH! PLEASE—STOP—"
Lin Xuan didn't stop. His grip shifted, snapped the forearm, and finally crushed the man's shoulder. The burning smell of blood filled the air.
And then—he punched again.
The disciple's skull crumpled beneath the strike, blood and bone bursting outward like shattered fruit.
Silence returned… thick and suffocating.
The remaining four disciples stood completely still, horror freezing them.
The cripple they had mocked for years… had just crushed one of their comrades with an expressionless face.
Lin Xuan stood straight, his eyes like molten gold in the dim light.
"Your turn."
The words hit them like thunder.
For a moment they hesitated—then rage replaced fear.
"You—how dare you! Kill my brother!" screamed the inner disciple in the lead. His Qi burst outward. "We'll tear you apart!"
The other four shouted and charged simultaneously. Flames roared around their blades, but before they could reach Lin Xuan—
The ground cracked.
A fierce heat wave burst from behind him as the Magma Lord appeared, giant and awe-inspiring. His red eyes burned with an intensity greater than the fire itself, and with his arrival came waves of murderous intent across the entire floor.
Master," the demon growled with coldness, "should I deal with them?
Lin Xuan looked at the intruders, his expression unreadable. "Don't let any of them die quickly."
The demon bowed slightly. "As you command."
Then he moved.
The battle was over before it started.
The Magma Lord's grasp ensnared the initial attacker during his charge, pinching him into a pulp with one tightening. Cries filled the air, combined with the crunching of bones and armor shattering under fearsome might.
The second was flung through the air, colliding with molten lava and exploding into fire.
The other three attempted in vain to strike, sword against demon's hide—none had effect.
In minutes, all their bravado turned into terror.
"Please!" one of them cried out, crawling backward. "We—we'll leave—"
But there was no mercy.
Their screams filled the tower—echoing, breaking, begging. One by one they fell silent until only the flickering fire remained.
Ten minutes later, quiet returned.
The first floor smelled of molten metal and ash. The only movement came from the flowing lava and Lin Xuan standing still among five shattered corpses.
Even Lin Xuan himself was half-dazed at the carnage.
He looked at the Magma Lord—who stood calmly, unbothered, his crimson arms slick with blood—and exhaled slowly. "Remind me… to never get on your bad side."
The demon simply bowed. "I exist to destroy your enemies, not you, Master."
Lin Xuan sighed faintly and began searching the remains. He found a few low-grade treasures—one Level 2 spiritual sword, a handful of basic pills, and a unique robe lined with defensive arrays.
He examined it curiously. "A robe that reduces elemental damage by forty percent, huh? Not bad."
Removing his old, burnt robe, he wore the new one. It shimmered faintly, matching the faint glow of his Supreme Bone.
"Eighty percent resistance from the bone… forty percent from the robe." He smiled lightly. "I guess you could say I'm now immune to fire."
He stretched, then returned to sit again and meditate.
The tower gradually settled into its normal cadence—the fire murmured, the lava flowed quietly, and the darkness beyond was completely unaware of the carnage that had occurred within.
Far in the distance, five lives were ended within hellfire, and one damned soul walked on to pursue his way towards power, rebirth, and destined revenge.