The Grand Plaza of the Azure Cloud Sect was a sea of heads. Ten thousand Outer Disciples stood in rigid formation, their breaths creating a collective fog in the chill morning air.
To a normal observer, this was a display of discipline and potential.
To Mo Tian, standing in the back row with his head lowered, it looked like a cattle farm.
So much blood energy, he thought, the Heaven-Devouring Foundation in his gut vibrating with hunger. If I were to detonate this plaza, I could reach the Foundation Establishment realm instantly.
But he suppressed the urge. The System punished hesitation, but it also punished stupidity. Standing on the high platform overlooking the plaza were the nascent powers that ruled this region—Elders of the Core Formation realm. Their pressure alone was enough to crush a Qi Condensation cultivator into paste.
"Silence!"
A voice rolled over the crowd like thunder. An Elder in crimson robes stepped forward. The chatter died instantly.
"Today, the Azure Cloud Sect selects the worthy. The path of cultivation is a path of stealing destiny from Heaven. Only the strong deserve to breathe the spiritual air of the Inner Sect."
Stealing from Heaven, Mo Tian sneered internally. You have no idea.
"But first," the Elder bowed slightly, turning to the side. "We are graced by the presence of the Core Sect's legacy disciple. The pride of the Nine Provinces. Fairy Yan Luo."
The air shimmered.
From the clouds, a white jade lotus descended slowly. Standing upon it was a woman who seemed carved from moonlight and frost. She wore robes of unblemished white, her face half-hidden by a silk veil. Her presence didn't suppress the crowd; it soothed them. A wave of calming, pure Qi washed over the plaza, easing the nerves of the terrified disciples.
"Fairy Yan!"
"It's Senior Sister Yan!"
"She is the incarnation of the Goddess!"
The eyes of the male disciples burned with adoration. Even the female disciples looked on with envy and worship.
Mo Tian raised his head. The Bone-Masking Pill concealed his killing intent, allowing him to stare directly at her without triggering her senses.
"System," he commanded. "Analyze."
[Active: Eye of Truth (Level 1)]
The golden light flared in his retina. The serene image of the Fairy crumbled, replaced by data.
Name: Yan Luo Identity: Legacy Disciple / Future Saintess Cultivation: Foundation Establishment - Late Stage Physique: Pure Yin Saint Body (Rank: Earth) Law Affinity: Light / Faith Hidden Trait: [Dormant Calamity Soul] Description: Outwardly the symbol of purity. Inwardly, her soul contains a seed of catastrophic darkness, suppressed by the Sect's techniques. If the seal breaks, she will become a demoness of slaughter.
[System Alert: High-Value Target Detected] [Classification: Heroine of Destiny] [Villain Strategy:]
Option A (Inefficient): Kill her. Reward: High XP.
Option B (Optimal): Corrupt her. Shatter her faith. Trigger the [Dormant Calamity Soul].
Projected Result: A loyal S-Rank subordinate capable of slaughtering nations.
Mo Tian's lips curled into a microscopic smile.
A Saintess who is one bad day away from being a monster. How poetic.
Up on the platform, Yan Luo's gaze swept across the ten thousand faces. She was bored. To her, these outer disciples were ants. But suddenly, her eyes paused.
She felt a chill. Not a killing intent, but something... hollow. Like a grave staring back at her. Her gaze landed on the back row, near a nondescript disciple with a lowered head.
"Fairy?" The Elder asked.
Yan Luo blinked, the sensation vanishing. "It is nothing. Let the exam begin."
The Elder nodded and turned back to the crowd.
"The First Trial is simple," the Elder announced. "The Mist Forest. It is inhabited by Stage 1 and 2 Spirit Beasts. Your task is to hunt. Collect ten Beast Cores to pass. Stealing from others... is not forbidden. But killing fellow disciples is 'officially' discouraged."
The emphasis on 'officially' was slight, but every disciple understood. Don't get caught.
"Begin!"
The massive iron gates to the north of the plaza groaned open, revealing a dense, fog-covered forest.
The crowd roared and charged.
Mo Tian did not run. He walked, blending into the chaotic stampede. He wasn't interested in Spirit Beasts. Their cores were meager sources of energy.
He was interested in the ones who hunted them.
The Mist Forest
An hour later, the forest was filled with the sounds of combat and the screams of dying beasts.
Mo Tian moved through the canopy, leaping from branch to branch. The Corpse-Refining Art made his body light and devoid of heat, rendering him invisible to the thermal senses of snakes and wolves.
Below him, a group of three disciples had cornered an Iron-Hide Boar.
"Hit it on the left flank!" shouted the leader, a burly youth with a heavy axe.
"I'm trying, Brother Zhang!" a smaller disciple cried, firing weak fireballs.
They fought for ten minutes, exhausting their Qi, bleeding from minor wounds, before finally slaying the beast. The leader dug his knife into the boar and pulled out a glistening blue core.
"That's the third one!" the leader grinned, wiping sweat from his brow. "We just need seven more."
"Good work," a voice said from behind them.
The three disciples spun around.
Standing in the shadow of a massive oak tree was a figure in standard grey robes, holding a rusted iron sword.
"Who are you?" Brother Zhang barked, raising his axe. "Get lost, trash. This is our kill."
Mo Tian stepped into the dappled sunlight. He looked at the three of them.
Scan Results:
Target A: Qi Condensation Stage 4 (Exhausted)
Target B: Qi Condensation Stage 3 (Low Qi)
Target C: Qi Condensation Stage 3 (Injured)
"I am not here for the boar," Mo Tian said politely. "I am here for the donation."
"Donation?" Zhang laughed. "You want to rob us? Boys, break his legs!"
The two lackeys charged, confident in their numbers.
Mo Tian didn't draw his sword. He simply stepped forward.
[Skill: Villain's Pressure (Passive)]
He released a fraction of the Death Qi he had cultivated in the corpse pit. The temperature in the clearing dropped twenty degrees instantly. The sunlight seemed to dim.
The two charging disciples froze, their instincts screaming that they were running toward a predator, not a human.
In that split second of hesitation, Mo Tian moved.
He bypassed the first lackey, his hand chopping down on the boy's neck. Snap. The sound of a cervical fracture was crisp. The boy collapsed, paralyzed but alive.
The second lackey stabbed with a dagger. Mo Tian caught the wrist mid-air. His grip was crushing.
"Weak."
Mo Tian kicked the boy in the solar plexus. Ribs shattered. The lackey flew back, vomiting blood, and hit a tree.
Brother Zhang stood alone, his axe trembling. "You... you hid your cultivation! You're Stage 5? Stage 6?"
"Does it matter?" Mo Tian walked toward him over the bodies of his friends.
Zhang roared, swinging the heavy axe in a desperate arc. "Die!"
Mo Tian sidestepped. The axe buried itself in the earth. Before Zhang could pull it out, Mo Tian's hand was on his face.
"Devour."
The scream was muffled by Mo Tian's palm.
Black veins surged from Mo Tian's arm, invading Zhang's facial orifices. The burly youth convulsed as his life force—the product of fifteen years of eating spirit rice and training—was sucked out in a torrent.
[Gained: 450 Experience] [Gained: Low-Grade Spirit Essence]
Mo Tian dropped the withered corpse. He turned to the two paralyzed lackeys who were watching in horror.
"Please... no..." one whimpered.
"Witnesses are inconvenient," Mo Tian said.
He finished them quickly. No torture. Just efficiency.
He looted their bodies. Three Beast Cores. Two pouches of spirit stones. Some dried meat.
[System Notification] [Villain Merit: +30 (Cold-Blooded Murder)] [Current Realm: Qi Condensation Stage 3 (Peak)]
Mo Tian tossed the Beast Cores into his pouch. "Three down. But I need more. I need enough energy to break through to Stage 4 right here in the forest."
He looked deeper into the mist.
"And perhaps," he mused, "I can send a greeting gift to that Saintess."
He knelt by Zhang's corpse. Dipping his finger in the remaining pool of blood, he drew a symbol on the forehead of the dry husk. It wasn't a random scribble. It was an ancient, blasphemous rune he had learned in his past life.
The rune for "Doubt."
It wouldn't hurt Yan Luo physically. But when the elders inspected the bodies later, the mere presence of such a rune would cause chaos, panic, and suspicion. Chaos was a ladder.
Mo Tian wiped his hand on Zhang's robe and vanished into the mist.