The night was ink-dark, shrouding the ruined mountain village. Lin Chen huddled in a corner of the abandoned thatched hut, the dull roar of distant artillery and screams carried on the wind filling his ears.
Three months ago, he was merely an ordinary Qi Condensation apprentice in a frontier town, living day-to-day on a meager stipend of spirit stones. Now, the full-scale war between the Empire and the Demonic Sect had torn the entire continent apart; mortal cities were reduced to ash overnight, sect disciples conscripted as cannon fodder, his own sect destroyed, and his relatives and friends killed.
He tightly clutched a fragmented jade slip in his arms. It was given to him by his Master in his dying moments — said to contain an ancient secret technique that could help one defy fate and change their destiny.
The slip was cold, yet felt like a burning fire against his chest, reminding him: if he did not seize this opportunity in the chaotic times, the only path left was death.
Outside the door, firelight illuminated half the sky. Lin Chen peered through a crack and saw a team of Demonic Sect scouts searching house-by-house for residual spirit herbs and survivors.
The leader was a Foundation Establishment stage cultivator in the intermediate phase, with a sinister aura, wielding a blood-red banner. After searching each house, a flash of fire would erupt, and the sound of crying would cease abruptly.
Lin Chen's breathing almost stopped. Inside the hut, all that remained was half a bottle of low-grade healing medicine, a broken flying sword, and the jade slip.
His spiritual power was depleted to only thirty percent, and his wounds throbbed painfully. If discovered, death was certain; if he rashly fled, the wilderness offered the same fate.
The scouts' footsteps drew nearer.
Lin Chen held his breath, his fingertip drawing a bloodstain across the broken sword, and spiritual power seeped into the ground like spider silk, setting up the "Phantom Remnant Array" recorded in a fragmented sect scroll.
The formation patterns, barely concealing the aura inside the house using dust as a medium, were completed just as the scout pushed the door open. The blood banner swept across, and the firelight illuminated only an empty straw mat and an overturned wooden bucket.
The leading Foundation Establishment cultivator frowned, his sinister gaze lingering in the corner for half a breath, before he finally snorted coldly and turned to leave.
Lin Chen lay prone on the rafters, sweat mixed with blood dripping from his chin. When the footsteps faded, he silently dropped to the ground, crouching low to follow.
The night wind carried a smell of charring. The five scouts spread out, forming two pairs, with one falling behind. The isolated late-stage Qi Condensation cultivator was half a step back, quietly cursing his companions for unfair distribution of loot.
The broken sword plunged into his back, the tip emerging from his chest. The cultivator's pupils contracted instantly. Before he could scream, Lin Chen clamped his hand over his throat, spiritual power shattering his heart meridian.
The storage bag was secured, warm and sticky. Lin Chen dragged the body into the bushes, quickly wiped away the blood, and retreated along the original path back to the village edge.
Inside the storage bag: seventeen low-grade spirit stones, one Blood Demonic Sect identification jade token, half a bottle of "Blood Coagulation Pills," and an unopened secret letter.
The letter was sealed with a blood talisman and subtly pulsed with spiritual power. Lin Chen knew he couldn't stay long and escaped into the forest.
Behind him, flames shot into the sky from the village; the scouts seemed to have noticed the anomaly, and the blood banner glowed intensely.
Lin Chen gritted his teeth and swallowed the Blood Coagulation Pill. The bleeding stopped, but he felt a dull ache in his Dantian — the medicine was potent and subtly clashed with his original cultivation technique.
He didn't dare open the secret letter, and the jade token felt like a hot potato. Wolf howls echoed in the wilderness, and a dense fog ahead hinted at the presence of a formation.
Lin Chen fastened the storage bag to his waist, tucked the Blood Demonic Sect jade token inside his inner garment, and slipped the secret letter into his robes.
Unable to discern the reality of the formation patterns within the fog, he relied on instinct, choosing the most rugged mountain ridge to proceed.
The night wind, like a knife, ripped open the wound barely sealed by the Blood Coagulation Pill. Fresh blood seeped out, dripping onto the grass leaves and immediately swallowed by the dense fog.
The wolf howls sounded now distant, now near, seemingly circling in the mist, yet also perhaps being driven away by the formation.
At the end of the ridge, a single waterfall cascaded down like a silver ribbon. Lin Chen used the sound of the water to mask his breathing, hugging the cliff face as he descended.
Icy water droplets struck his face, washing away the scent of blood. Behind the waterfall, there was a natural stone cave. The entrance was covered by vines, and the interior was deep, with subtle spiritual energy fluctuations — it appeared to be a cultivation refuge carved by human hands.
The moment he stepped in, the stone slab under his foot shifted slightly. Buzz! The vines at the entrance instantly withered and turned to ash, and a pale green light barrier rose, sealing the cave mouth.
Inscribed on the inner wall of the cave were small characters:
"Blood Demonic Sect Trial: A Single Thread of Survival. Those who enter must rely on their own cunning."
The writing was fresh, seemingly carved in haste. There was no one else inside, only a seated skeleton, whose storage bag had shattered, scattering several mid-grade spirit stones and a half-roll of beast hide.
A simple map was drawn on the beast hide: a "Spirit Gathering Spring" was marked at the end of the foggy area, with a note: "Foundation Establishment opportunity, Demonic Sect stronghold."
Lin Chen knew he had fallen into a trap — this cave was a Demonic Sect lure, specifically set to catch stragglers.
Outside the light barrier, the fog churned, and the red glow of a blood banner subtly drew closer. Although the spiritual energy was rich inside the cave, there was no exit.
The skeleton's finger bones clutched a fragmented Teleportation Talisman; the runes were dim, retaining only ten percent of their spiritual power.
His wound tore open, the Blood Coagulation Pill's efficacy was spent, and his Dantian was empty. Lin Chen gritted his teeth and picked up the beast hide map, his gaze falling upon a black iron token at the skeleton's waist — it was oddly shaped, not belonging to the Demonic Sect, resembling a military pass from the mortal world.
Lin Chen took a deep breath, fastened the black iron token to the most visible spot on his waist, and flipped the Blood Demonic Sect jade token to the outside, deliberately placing the two tokens side-by-side.
He took off his outer robe and draped it over the skeleton. He then curled up next to it, hands resting on his knees, closed his eyes, and slowed his breathing until it was almost imperceptible.
Although the spiritual energy in the cave was dense, it carried a chilling yin quality. He forcefully suppressed the churning in his Dantian, forcing out the last trace of spiritual power to condense a thin mist on his skin, feigning the deathly exhaustion of long-term meditation.
Outside the light barrier, the red glow of the blood banner drew closer. The leading Foundation Establishment cultivator stepped into the cave entrance, his gaze sweeping over the scene like a hawk's slit.
The skeleton, the shattered bag, the mid-grade spirit stones, the beast hide map... everything was consistent with a failed trial participant.
He gave a cold snort, the blood banner lightly waved, and the light barrier vanished instantly.
"Another one who didn't know his place."
Behind the Foundation Establishment cultivator, a Qi Condensation disciple stepped forward to examine the skeleton. As his fingertip touched the iron token, he suddenly stiffened and lowered his voice, "My Lord, this iron token... it's the 'Black Wolf Token' from the old military ranks!"
The Foundation Establishment cultivator's pupils narrowed slightly. At the beginning of the chaos, the Empire's frontier army had secretly allied with the Blood Demonic Sect.
The Black Wolf Battalion was one of those abandoned pawns. The token symbolized the old pact, and there were still high-level sect decrees: those holding the token must not be killed without authorization.
"Soul search," the cultivator commanded in a low voice.
The Qi Condensation disciple pressed his finger to Lin Chen's brow, and a wisp of cold spiritual power seeped into his Sea of Consciousness.
Lin Chen had already pushed the jade slip's secret technique to its limit, filling his Sea of Consciousness with chaotic, fragmented memories: his sect's destruction, his escape, his accidental entry into the trial... difficult to distinguish truth from illusion.
The disciple's brow furrowed tighter and tighter. He finally withdrew his hand, shaking his head. "His soul is exhausted, only scattered, residual images remain. I can't find any flaws."
The Foundation Establishment cultivator was silent for a moment, then a communication talisman flew out of his sleeve, flashing red before vanishing.
A moment later, a low response echoed from outside the cave entrance: "Bring him back to the camp and hand him over to the 'Shadow Hall' for disposal."
Lin Chen was bound with spiritual restraints and dragged out of the cave, blindfolded. Although the restraints locked his spiritual power, they did not damage his meridians, clearly intending to keep him alive.
The night wind brushed his face; the smell of blood gradually faded, replaced by the scent of iron armor and horses.
The scout team had expanded to over twenty people. Warhorses neighed softly, and the firelight illuminated a temporary military camp — a Demonic Sect outpost on the edge of the foggy area.
He was thrown into a gray canvas tent, and the blindfold was ripped off. There was only a wooden table inside, on which lay his storage bag, the beast hide map, the secret letter, and the black iron token.
The tent flap opened, and a black-robed elder slowly walked in. His late-stage Foundation Establishment aura was restrained, yet his gaze was like needle-pricks.
"A remnant of the Black Wolf Battalion?" The elder's voice was hoarse as he lightly tapped the iron token. "Tell me, how have you survived until today?"
Lin Chen's throat was dry, his mind racing. Patrol footsteps could be heard outside the camp.
The name "Shadow Hall" implied interrogation for intelligence. The iron token had saved his life, but it also made him the center of attention.
The secret letter was unopened, the jade slip was still in his embrace, and the storage bag was confiscated — a body search would inevitably expose the secret technique.