Fire devoured the Azure Heaven Sect.
Entire pavilions collapsed under raining sword light. Defensive arrays cracked like glass. Spirit beasts howled as they burned with their bonds snapping violently. The once-pristine mountainside was reduced to a battlefield choked with smoke, ash, and screaming qi.
And at the center of it all—
Lin.
Or rather—
Lins.
They were everywhere.
One leapt across rooftops with condensed lightning swimming around his palms. Another stood calmly atop a shattered hall, laughing as talismans detonated around him. Two more fought back-to-back, moving with perfect coordination. Their expressions were identical down to the amused curl of their lips.
"Find the real one!"
"Kill the original and the rest will fall!"
"That's how clones work—there must be a source!"
The sect elders shouted orders frantically with blood streaking their faces as they rallied disciples into desperate formations. Hundreds of cultivators sped forward, overlapping their attacks in brilliant waves.
And Lin… enjoyed himself.
"Oh, come now," one of him said, blocking a blade with his bare hand. "You people really should've researched me better."
Another Lin ducked under a sweeping spear and snapped the wielder's neck. "If killing the 'original' was that easy," he added conversationally, "I wouldn't still be alive after a thousand years."
Nonethless, Qi thundered, clones died... bodies were torn apart, vaporized and crushed under overwhelming force.
And more replaced them.
They believed that once the original was killed, the nightmare would end so they kept at it.
They needed that belief.
Otherwise, what they were fighting wasn't a man.
It was inevitability.
A roar shook the battlefield as a dozen elders combined their strength, forming a massive suppression array. Runes flared, locking space itself. The pressure was suffocating.
One Lin stumbled.
He fell to one knee, coughing violently.
Blood spilled from his mouth.
The elders froze.
"There!" one of them screamed. "That one's weak—he's injured!"
The surrounding clones halted.
They slowly turned toward the kneeling Lin.
His shoulders shook.
"Hah…" he coughed again while raising trembling hands. "Wait… wait…"
The kneeling Lin looked up with widened and terrified eyes. His arrogant expression was gone.
"I—listen," he said hoarsely. "We can talk about this."
The elders advanced cautiously with their blades and seals ready.
"You admit defeat?" one elder sneered.
"Yes!" Lin blurted out. "Yes, absolutely. Look—I'll leave. I swear. I won't touch your sect again."
He swallowed.
"And I definitely won't sleep with anyone's wife anymore. Promise."
The battlefield went dead silent.
Several elders exchanged looks.
That fear.
That humiliation.
That plea.
It was wrong.
"…It's him," someone whispered.
"The original."
"He's scared."
A cruel smile spread across the crimson-robed elder's face. "Then end it."
All at once, the sect unleashed hell.
Sword intent. Palm seals. Soul-crushing pressure. Lightning. Fire. Ice.
Every ounce of hatred they possessed was poured into that single kneeling figure.
Lin screamed.
His body shattered.
Qi dispersed violently.
And—
Every clone across the battlefield froze.
One by one, they collapsed.
Dropping like puppets with cut strings.
Weapons clattered to the ground.
Laughter died.
Silence reclaimed the burning sect.
The elders stood with stunned looks and then let out sighs of relief.
It spread like poison turning into medicine.
They had done it.
One cultivator laughed hysterically. "We… we won!"
Another fell to his knees, sobbing.
"The clones—look! They're all dead!"
Bodies littered the ruins, all bearing the same face, eyes empty and lifeless.
The nightmare was over.
Just as they began celebrating, a soft sound broke the silence.
Thump.
One finger twitched.
An elder's eyes widened. "Did you see—"
Thump.
A hand moved.
Slowly, one of the fallen Lins sat up.
He blinked and then smiled.
"…Just kidding."
Every other Lin on the battlefield jolted upright at the same time.
Mocking laughter exploded from their lips endlessly.
"Oh gods, your faces—"
"You really believed that?"
"That pleading took effort, you know."
The sect descended into madness.
Screams filled the air as the clones charged forward once more, coordinated and cruel, cutting down cultivators who no longer had the strength to resist.
The war resumed.
But elsewhere—
Far from the chaos—
A different Lin walked calmly through a hidden stone passage beneath the sect.
He exited behind the mountain with flames reflecting in his eyes as the Azure Heaven Sect burned itself alive behind him.
In his hand was a jade scroll.
He stopped at the edge of the forest.
Another Lin was already waiting there, leaning casually against a tree.
"Report," the waiting one said.
The first Lin handed over the scroll.
"Inner vault," he said. "Only accessible through the sect master's bloodline… or his wife."
The waiting Lin smirked. "Resourceful."
He unfurled the scroll and scanned through quickly.
Maps.
Coordinates.
Ancient annotations.
His expression changed.
"…Tch."
He sighed.
"Not it."
The scroll did not contain the location of the Immortality Scripture.
Only an incomplete route. A fabrication. A legend inflated with just enough detail to seem real.
Lin crumpled the scroll.
"What a waste of time."
He tore it in half.
The pieces dissolved into dust.
Behind them, the sect burned.
For over two decades, Lin had remained embedded within the Azure Heaven Sect.
Two decades of patience.
Two decades of pretending.
Two decades of cultivation observation, political maneuvering, and information gathering.
The sect had loudly and arrogantly claimed that they possessed a fragmentary map leading to immortality. It was the reason their reputation had skyrocketed. The reason other sects feared them.
The reason Lin had come.
Sleeping with the sect master's wife?
That had just been entertainment.
A few female disciples?
Occupational hazards.
The real goal had always been the scroll.
And it had been a lie.
Likely a deliberate one... an illusion crafted to raise the sect's standing, to invite fear and reverence.
Lin turned away.
"Looks like we'll have to check the next location."
The other Lin nodded, already dissolving into mist.
Far behind them, cultivators would argue for generations about what truly happened that night.
About how many Lins there were.
About which one had been real.
About whether killing him was even possible.
And none of them would ever realize the truth:
They were never hunting a man.
They were chasing a network.
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