"Blood night descends, covering the sky…"
The moment the Blood-Night King swallowed the first finger, its body expanded dozens of times over, rising like a giant that scraped the heavens. The blood-light around it grew richer, the scent of iron thick enough to choke the air. A viscous mist of scarlet rolled through the great hall.
With the second finger, its form sharpened. A pair of blood-soaked wings—bat-like and fully corporeal—unfurled from its back, each vein pulsing with sinister life.
Devouring the third finger made the Blood-Night King contract again. Now it reshaped itself into a tall, lithe youth with wide bat wings and a flowing blood-red robe. The face was unmistakably Fang Han's—sharp, youthful, almost serene despite the carnage swirling around him.
Fang Han was over thirty by mortal years, having lived eighteen in the Taiyuan Immortal Mansion, but cultivation and the Nine Apertures Golden Pill had preserved his appearance; he still looked barely twenty.
When the fourth finger disappeared, the Blood-Night King changed once more. The stench of blood faded, replaced by a purer radiance. The crimson glow deepened in color, its energy steadying—something between "evil turning to righteous" and "pure yin transforming into pure yang."
By the time it swallowed the fifth and final finger, its entire aura shifted. The Blood-Night King became something ancient, ethereal. The blood-light around it grew crystalline, refined, almost sacred. At its brow, a blood-colored relic floated upward—like a seed holding countless worlds within. The rays it emitted no longer reeked of slaughter. Instead, they carried a sweet fragrance, purer and richer than blooddew nectar by several magnitudes.
A scent capable of clearing the soul.
"Good! Evil turned to virtue! Yin refined into yang! Now comes the final step—attaining the Dao!" Elder Tianxing's low shout rippled through the hall. His hands blurred. Countless seals burst from his fingers, each one a complete formation, each formation the equivalent strength of a Heaven-Human expert.
The air trembled.
Dozens—hundreds—of grand arrays spun into place around the Blood-Night King. Then Tianxing slapped them all forward. Elder Tiangong and the Transmission Elder followed suit, weaving their own formations into the storm. Their combined power wrapped the Blood-Night King and the Blood-Cangqiong Blade, fusing them tighter and tighter.
A torrent of flames erupted from their mouths—refining, melting, transforming.
This was no forging. It was the birth of a monster.
Fang Han watched, stunned. In his hands, even a thousand years wouldn't make this blade a Dao-weapon. But in the hands of three giants of the sect…
Their technique, precision, and insights carved themselves into his mind. Even watching felt like enlightenment.
"A Dao-weapon must first grasp the Dao itself," Tianxing lectured calmly while manipulating hundreds of formations at once. "Only one who understands the laws of heaven and earth can elevate a weapon beyond mortal limits."
Meanwhile, Elder Tiangong's sleeves opened like bottomless pits—spitting out materials one after another. Every piece was precious. Every piece melted into the evolving blade.
"Tsk tsk… Nine-Heaven Meteor Iron. Five-Colored Divine Stone. Innate Blood-Jade. Dragon-Gold Silverstone…" Yan's voice clicked its tongue in disbelief. "They're emptying half the treasury for you!"
The Innate Blood-Jade alone was mythical—said to be a condensed essence from the cosmos itself. A drop of its inner blood could strengthen flesh, extend life, refine marrow.
Piece after piece of celestial material merged into the Blood-Cangqiong Blade.
Ten days and ten nights passed.
Three titanic experts poured their essence and life force into the weapon. The Blood-Night King flickered in and out of existence, its power rising with each cycle.
Then—
"Done!"
Elder Tianxing spread his fingers. A vortex of spiritual energy roared through the hall, crashing into the blade.
BOOM.
The blade transformed.
The Blood-Night King emerged once again—this time, wholly solid, wholly divine. Fang Han's face. Crimson wings. An air of ancient majesty. A blood-relic shining between its brows. Even the air seemed to sing, as if the ancient heavens themselves whispered congratulations.
A pillar of blood-light burst skyward, piercing the Nine Heavens.
Across the entire Yuhua Sect, disciples paused—heads snapping upward—watching a pillar of crimson swallow the sky. Clouds turned red. The heavens dimmed beneath a sea of blood-colored radiance.
For a moment, the world became Blood-Cangqiong.
Then—slowly—the vision faded, returning the world to calm.
Inside the Scripture Pavilion, Elder Tianxing placed the completed weapon into Fang Han's hands.
"This Blood-Cangqiong Blade has now ascended and become a true Dao-weapon. Use it well. Bring honor to the Yuhua Sect."
Fang Han's fingers wrapped around the hilt. It no longer felt like a demonic artifact—it felt like a divine one. Balanced between sin and sanctity. Its power surged through him like a tempest.
With a soft hum, the blade transformed into a new Blood-Night King form—one powerful enough to exceed Fang Han's own strength by several fold, easily rivaling a million galloping warhorses.
Yan scoffed, unimpressed. "Don't look so smug. This thing's merely a lower-grade Dao-weapon. It hasn't grasped space or time. If I were in my prime, I'd crush it like an egg."
"You in your prime… who knows when that'll be?" Fang Han replied dryly, then bowed deeply. "Three Elders, you spent unimaginable treasures and essence to forge this blade. I swear I'll wield it for the honor of the Yuhua Sect."
"Go," Tianxing waved weakly. "This ritual consumed much of our strength."
Fang Han silently withdrew, heading back toward Reincarnation Peak.
Meanwhile, on Tiandu Peak—
Hua Tiandu lowered his gaze from the sky, his expression unreadable. The blood pillar had told him everything.
"So, the elders helped Fang Han turn that demonic blade into a Dao-weapon." His voice was calm, but his fingers tightened slightly. "I underestimated him. The Yellow Springs Diagram alone explains much… No wonder he dared claim victory within ten years. Even I would struggle to defeat him as he is now."
Beside him, Nan Wanlu—a Golden Core master and one of the Five Great Disciples—nodded.
"The Yellow Springs Emperor's decree is powerful. But it's not a true immortal artifact. Once you step into the Longevity Realm, Senior Brother, you can shatter Fang Han with a flick of your wrist… unless he acquires the Earth Emperor Book. If those two combine to form an immortal weapon… then you would be the one crushed."
A new voice chuckled lightly.
A black-clothed stranger, sitting casually beside Hua Tiandu's pill furnace, finally spoke.
A mysterious rogue cultivator—whose appearance here meant trouble had already arrived.