The night in the tavern was quiet.
Lian Feng lay stretched out in his room, watching the pale light reflected on the ceiling.
He had spent the last four days observing the lives of mortals.
He touched his chest and took a deep breath.
"Something is missing… there's something wrong with my heart."
He pressed lightly against his chest.
His breath grew heavier then fell completely silent.
In an instant, he was dragged into a place where time did not exist.
There was no light.
No sound.
Only the distant echo of a heartbeat… deep and hollow.
The Mortal Qi within him withdrew;
as if it were abandoning him.
His connection to his physical body weakened.
His soul slowly slipped outward.
With each breath, something faded:
Fear… anger… longing…
Every emotion, every mark he had carried for a lifetime disappeared one by one.
And then—
as if summoned back—
everything he had forgotten returned.
His life flashed before his eyes like a rushing stream.
Lian Feng opened his eyes, whispering in disbelief:
"The Qi in my heart… it's different.
This must be… the Qi of Death.
But why is it inside me?"
Thoughts collided chaotically.
Every pain he had endured resurfaced.
The suffering had accumulated so much that it felt like it had nowhere left to go.
Then the images of his life resurfaced—
And he let out a bitter smile.
"I see… I can't endure this much pain in my current state."
At that moment, distortions began forming across his body.
Even his soul trembled; as though it had suffered spiritual damage.
Mortal Qi retreated further. It did nothing to protect his body or his soul—
instead, it allowed the distortion to spread.
Lian Feng closed his eyes.
His expression was peaceful.
...
In his dream, his senses were pulled into the distortion.
Its source… was his own heart.
Every pain he had carried for years was now trying to kill him.
The Death Qi radiating from his heart enveloped his entire body.
Before long, it reached all the way to his soul.
The Mortal Qi still offered no resistance.
It did not repel it.
It did not fight it.
It was as if it had long accepted that this process must occur.
Then the Death Qi showed its true nature:
Emotion lost its meaning.
Desires ended.
Memories faded.
Habits dissolved.
Like a dying mortal taking his final breath,
everything went out—one flame at a time.
...
"Mm…"
Lian Feng let out a lazy groan.
He felt that waking up would bring everything to an end.
Yet a strange, indescribable peace filled him.
Pain assailed him—from every direction—
yet it never touched the parts of him that mattered.
Lian Feng whispered:
"In all universes, every being can die…
Emotions, habits, memories—they all have a lifespan.
Eventually, they will taste death,
and pain is the only thing that hastens that process."
He paused.
Then continued with a soft laugh:
"Pain is death… and change is life.
Likewise, life is pain, and death is change."
He smiled.
That smile slowly spread, twisting into something devilish.
"To create this life–death duality…
countless dualities must coexist…"
...
The Death Qi purified Lian Feng of all weaknesses.
As his soul transformation neared its end, he waited without opening his eyes.
Only when his soul fractured further,
he finally opened them.
The voids left behind by Death Qi were filled by Mortal Qi.
The traumas caused by lost memories slowly resurfaced—
they were the very things that strengthened him.
Though born of pain,
they pushed him toward change and power.
...
A whisper echoed through his inner sea.
"The Wandering Demon."
He had earned that title through his actions.
And in that moment…
Lian Feng's former self completely died—
and was reborn as a demon.
...
Lian Feng smiled.
His resting phase had ended;
his enlightenment was complete.
"So this first stage is Rest: Transformation…
its effect was stronger than I anticipated," he murmured thoughtfully.
Then, with growing enthusiasm, he continued:
"Now that I've completed my martial and enlightenment,
there's no reason to stay here.
It's time to leave the Windward Dynasty."
He began preparing to depart.
...
The main hall of the Wind Peak Sect was silent save for the low howl of the wind.
Dozens of ornate jade plaques were displayed upon the stone platform, and several were handed at once to Xuanyuan Lie seated upon his high throne.
The Sect Master picked one up.
Though his face was obscured by shadows, his whispered words filled the hall:
"The Wandering Demon…"
The plaque contained a report.
It was written by a follower who had witnessed the clash between Lian Feng and Ren Tianhe.
Xuanyuan Lie remained silent for a long time.
Neither anger nor surprise could be seen—
only deep contemplation.
Behind him, the kneeling elders held their breath.
Finally, Xuanyuan Lie lowered the jade plaque and closed his eyes.
"The demonic beasts began fleeing all at once."
The hall fell frigid.
An elder spoke, voice trembling:
"Sect Master… what does this mean?"
Xuanyuan Lie opened his eyes—
his gaze as sharp and cold as a naked blade.
"They are afraid," he said, letting the words hang—
"of a single being."
Whispers spread like wildfire.
Panic stirred.
Xuanyuan Lie continued:
"Many herds scattered.
All fled in different directions.
This is not something an ordinary demon could cause."
A grand elder stepped forward:
"This could be an Ancient Demon in human form.
We must immediately deploy demon hunters and send a tracking unit!"
Tension swelled in the hall.
Xuanyuan Lie tilted his head slightly, thoughtful.
"These beasts are not approaching the dynasty.
On the country…
they are running away from it."
to be continued..