The mountain peak above Iron Mountain Sect had always been silent.
A sacred place.
A forbidden place.
A place disciples whispered about like it was a god's temple.
Because up there…
lived the one being no disciple dared to look at directly.
The Sect Master.
The ruler.
The ceiling of power.
And now…
that silence broke.
A pressure descended like the sky collapsing.
Not an aura.
Not killing intent.
Something heavier.
Something absolute.
All across the sect, disciples fell to their knees.
Their organs screamed.
Their bones trembled.
Even inner disciples who survived the tower massacre were forced flat against the ground like insects beneath a giant foot.
The elders—those still alive—shook violently.
Elder Vayu stood straight, but even he clenched his fists.
Because this pressure wasn't just cultivation.
It was authority.
The kind that says:
You exist because I allow it.
Then a voice echoed through the entire sect.
Calm.
Ancient.
Cold.
"Who dares…"
"…turn my sect into a graveyard?"
The voice wasn't loud.
But it entered everyone's bones.
It entered everyone's soul.
It was a sentence that didn't ask.
It judged.
Arjun stood in the ruined courtyard, blood on the stone, sword in hand.
He looked up at the sky.
And smiled faintly.
"Finally."
The clouds above split.
A path opened through the mist like heaven itself stepped aside.
A man walked down from the air.
Not flying like a normal cultivator.
Not using flashy techniques.
He simply walked as if the air was his staircase.
Every step created a ripple of golden light.
His robe was pure white with golden patterns like mountain ranges.
His hair was long, tied behind his back.
His face looked calm and handsome…
but his eyes had no warmth.
Only emptiness.
Only control.
Only the stare of a man who had decided the world belonged to him.
This was Master Shailendra.
The Sect Master.
The King of Iron Mountain.
He landed in the courtyard without sound.
No crater.
No shockwave.
Because he didn't need to announce power.
Power announced itself by existing.
Shailendra's gaze moved across the corpses.
Elder Hong—devoured.
Elder Bao—beheaded.
Elder Yue—split in two.
The Inner Disciple Tower—half collapsed.
Blood mist hanging in the air like fog.
Then his eyes settled on one person.
Arjun.
The "outer disciple."
The monster.
Shailendra's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Arjun."
Arjun didn't bow.
He didn't kneel.
He didn't even speak respectfully.
He only answered:
"Yes."
That single word made the air turn sharper.
Several elders felt their hearts stop for half a beat.
Because they understood what that meant.
No fear. No respect. No submission.
Only challenge.
Shailendra's voice remained calm.
"You killed my elders."
Arjun nodded.
"Yes."
Shailendra continued.
"You destroyed my inner disciple tower."
Arjun nodded again.
"Yes."
Shailendra's eyes became colder.
"You slaughtered my disciples."
Arjun smiled faintly.
"Yes."
Shailendra stared.
Then asked:
"Why?"
Arjun looked around at the bodies hanging earlier in the outer courtyard.
He looked at the broken buildings.
The blood.
The injustice.
Then he looked back at Shailendra and answered:
"Because I was born in your sect."
That answer made a few disciples cry.
Because it wasn't poetic.
It wasn't dramatic.
It was true.
A simple sentence full of hatred.
Shailendra's expression didn't change.
"Your reason is meaningless."
Arjun laughed quietly.
"You're right."
"My reason doesn't matter."
He lifted the black sword slightly.
"Only the result matters."
For the first time…
Shailendra's eyes showed a faint ripple.
Not fear.
Interest.
He stepped forward slowly.
Each step made the ground hum.
"You're not just talented."
"You're cursed."
Arjun replied calmly:
"And you're not just strong."
"You're guilty."
A dangerous silence fell.
Then Shailendra smiled.
A smile that wasn't friendly.
It was a smile like a blade being drawn halfway.
"Guilty?"
Arjun's eyes burned.
"You made a deal with the Crimson Eye Cult."
The elders stiffened.
Disciples trembled.
Elder Vayu's eyes sharpened from the side.
Because that truth was never supposed to be spoken aloud.
Shailendra didn't deny it.
He didn't even flinch.
He only said:
"Yes."
The entire sect felt like it stopped breathing.
Shailendra continued calmly:
"A sect needs resources."
"A sect needs protection."
"A sect needs power."
Arjun's voice lowered:
"So you sold people."
Shailendra nodded like agreeing to the weather.
"Yes."
That simple "yes" felt more evil than screaming.
Because it meant—
he believed it was correct.
Arjun's hands tightened on the sword.
The Void-Cut energy vibrated.
But Shailendra's pressure pressed down harder.
Arjun's muscles creaked.
Shailendra spoke again:
"You were supposed to die quietly."
"But you awakened."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Now I will correct that mistake."
Arjun smiled faintly.
"No."
Shailendra's eyebrows lifted slightly.
Arjun's voice became cold enough to freeze blood.
"I will correct you."
Shailendra stared at him.
Then he raised one hand.
The air around his palm formed a golden circle.
A law formation.
Not a technique.
A command written into energy.
✨ HEAVEN-SEALING HAND
The moment it appeared, Arjun felt his cultivation shaking.
His Devouring Body trembled.
His bloodline screamed.
It was like the world itself was being ordered to crush him.
Shailendra stepped forward.
"Outer disciple Arjun."
"I, Sect Master Shailendra…"
"…sentence you to annihilation."
He slammed his palm down.
The golden hand came from above like a falling heaven.
The courtyard screamed.
Everything beneath it cracked.
Even the corpses were crushed into dust.
The ground collapsed.
A crater formed instantly.
But inside that crater…
Arjun was still standing.
His knees bent.
His bones screamed.
Blood poured from his mouth.
His skin cracked.
His organs trembled.
But he didn't fall.
He looked up through blood and smiled.
🩸🦴 TRUE DEVOURING BODY + BONE KING BLOODLINE roared.
The golden pressure tried to crush him.
Arjun's body adapted.
It devoured tiny pieces of the heaven-sealing energy.
Not enough.
But enough to survive.
Shailendra's eyes narrowed.
"You endured my Heaven-Sealing Hand?"
Arjun's voice was rough, but steady:
"I can endure…"
"…because I'm hungry."
Then Arjun lifted the black sword.
⚫ VOID-CUT SWORD ART (FRAGMENT) — THIRD CUT
A black slash shot upward toward Shailendra's neck.
For the first time in the entire fight—
Shailendra moved quickly.
He tilted his head slightly.
The slash cut a strand of his hair.
A single strand fell.
The air froze.
Everyone stared at that strand of hair like it was impossible.
Arjun had cut the Sect Master.
Even if only hair…
it was still a wound to pride.
Shailendra's expression turned colder.
"Interesting."
He lifted his hand again.
But this time…
he didn't use a palm technique.
He used a sword.
A white sword appeared in his hand like it came from heaven itself.
Its blade was thin and clean.
Its aura was pure judgment.
Shailendra spoke softly:
"You stole sword arts."
"But do you know what a sword truly is?"
Arjun stared at him.
Shailendra raised the sword.
And the entire sky above the sect turned white.
A sword intent so vast that even the clouds split.
☀️ HEAVENLIGHT SWORD DOMAIN
Arjun's body trembled.
Because this wasn't just a technique.
This was a realm.
A domain where Shailendra decided what lived and what died.
The Sect Master's voice echoed like a god speaking to an ant:
"Kneel."
Arjun's knees shook.
The pressure tried to force him down.
The ground beneath him cracked deeper.
Arjun's teeth clenched.
Blood ran down his chin.
But his eyes…
remained alive.
He whispered:
"…Never."
Then the system pulsed violently.
🔊 [CRISIS DETECTED: Domain suppression too high!]
✅ Emergency Option: Blood Contract Art (Forbidden) — UNLOCKED
✅ Emergency Option: Full Devouring Release (HIGH RISK)
✅ Emergency Option: Escape Protocol via Shadow Step (LOW success)
Arjun smiled through blood.
Because this was the moment.
The moment where he either dies…
or becomes something no one can ever control again.
He lifted his head and whispered:
"System…"
"Open Forbidden Blood Contract."