The border of the Anhui Sovereign Zone was a graveyard of logic. In the dense, moon-starved woods of the Black Bamboo Forest, the Yun Clan's Shadow Division held the line. These were the outcasts—the "3rd Rate" warriors like Hyuk Musang and the former Hao Clan street-rats—who had traded their rags for the white linen of the West. They didn't possess the centuries of refined lineage of the Namgung family, but they had the Universal Core Synchronization, and for the first time in their lives, they had a cause that didn't feel like a cage.
"Do you smell that?" whispered Hyuk Musang, his hand tightening on the hilt of his nameless, spirit-etched blade.
The forest was usually alive with the sound of cicadas and the rustle of wind. Tonight, it was silent. Then, the smell hit them—a thick, cloying sweetness, like copper and rotting lilies. It was the scent of Blood Qi, a forbidden energy that had supposedly been erased from the Central Plains centuries ago.
Suddenly, the darkness flickered. Small, violet flames began to drift between the bamboo stalks. They didn't give off heat; they radiated a bone-deep chill. These were the "Ghost-Fires," a byproduct of the Alliance's desperate alchemy.
The Arrival of the Fossil
A sound like cracking dry wood echoed through the clearing. From the mist stepped a figure that shouldn't have existed. He looked no older than twenty, with skin as smooth as polished jade—a hallmark of the Unrestrained Realm's rejuvenation. He wore the ancient, pre-Alliance robes of the Namgung Family, embroidered with azure dragons that seemed to writhe in the violet light.
This was Namgung In, the "Sword Sovereign of the Dead," an ancestor from three hundred years ago awakened from the Forbidden Sanctum. Behind him trailed a handful of Alliance "Martyrs"—warriors who had been forced to consume Blood Refining Pellets to fuel their dying Dantians.
"You... are the new generation?" the Ancestor asked. His voice was a grating rasp, like metal on stone, despite his youthful appearance. "You smell of common dirt and stolen light. Where are the true masters? Where are the lords of the plum blossom and the lightning?"
"The lords you speak of are cowering in Wuhan," Hyuk Musang replied, stepping forward. He didn't feel the paralyzing fear that usually accompanied a master of that level. His Pure Heaven Ki vibrated at a frequency that nullified the Ancestor's "Martial Soul" pressure. "We are the merit of the earth. And you are just a ghost who forgot to stay in the ground."
The Clash of Eras
The Ancestor didn't draw a sword. He simply pointed a finger. A beam of concentrated Blood Qi—a Slash Projection of liquid malice—erupted from his nail.
"Form the Green Jade Horse!" Musang commanded.
The Shadow Division warriors shifted. They didn't create a physical shield; they synchronized their "Resonance Voids." The air in front of them crystallized into a shimmering, emerald-tinted barrier. When the Blood Qi struck, it didn't explode. It was absorbed and redirected by the Divergent Flow of the Yun formation.
"Clever rats," the Ancestor hissed.
He leaped, and his movement was not "Qinggong" but a literal tearing of space. He appeared in the center of the Shadow Division, his hands glowing with the Heavenly Destruction, Shattering Thrust Palm. With every strike, he didn't just break bones; he sought to "devour" the internal energy of his opponents, a parasitic mechanic of the Demonic Path.
The Devastation of Black Ice
As a young Shadow warrior fell, his Dantian turning black as the Ancestor drained his life-force, Hyuk Musang realized that conventional defense was useless against a parasitic god.
"Universal Origin Scripture: Heart-Chilling Frost!" Musang roared.
He transitioned into the Green Jade Stance, tapping into the deepest, most stagnant layers of the atmospheric Ki. This was the Devastation of Black Ice, a technique designed to combat high-energy parasites.
Musang didn't strike the Ancestor's body. He struck the ground beneath him. A wave of absolute zero surged through the earth. The violet Ghost-Fires were snuffed out instantly. The Ancestor's Blood Qi, which relied on the warmth of living circulation, began to crystallize.
The "Immortal" Namgung ancestor froze mid-stride, his jade-like skin cracking as the Black Glacier energy turned his blood into shards of internal glass.
"You... use the power of the void..." the Ancestor gasped, his eyes wide with a realization that transcended his three centuries of experience. "The Heavens... they aren't empty..."
The Ancestor shattered. Not into blood and bone, but into a fine, grey ash that was scattered by the mountain wind. The Shadow Division stood in the silence of the forest, their white robes now stained with the soot of a dead era.
Hyuk Musang looked at his hands, which were trembling from the cold of his own technique. They had defeated the first of the awakened monsters, but as he looked toward the horizon, he saw hundreds more violet lights flickering in the distance.
The Murim Alliance had truly unleashed the end of the world. The Night of the Ghost-Fires was just the beginning, and as the sun rose over a frozen battlefield, the Shadow Division knew that the war for the Murim Federation was no longer a revolution—it was an exorcism.