The headless corpse of the enemy general crashed heavily against the scorched earth.
For a moment—
The battlefield froze.
Even the distant screams and explosions seemed to fade beneath the shock of what had just occurred.
The mysterious soldier stood silently amidst drifting ash, his dark robes fluttering beneath the crimson sky. His armor was identical to that of the invading race—jet-black battle robes layered beneath dark blood-red armored plates covering the forearms, shoulders, and legs. At first glance, he looked no different from the enemy soldiers surrounding the battlefield.
Like a shadow among monsters.
In his hand rested a black sword.
Its hilt was ancient and worn, yet at the center of the guard rested a crimson spirit stone glowing faintly like a sealed ember.
Wang Li barely managed to open his eyes.
His vision blurred in and out of focus.
An enemy soldier…
Had just killed his own general.
For a brief moment, confusion flickered through Wang Li’s exhausted mind.
Was this the true nature of these creatures?
To slaughter even their own kind without hesitation?
But almost immediately—
Another thought surfaced.
The faces of the people who had betrayed him.
The Legion.
The allies who had once sworn loyalty beside him.
The men who abandoned Crimson City during its final hour.
A bitter laugh nearly escaped Wang Li’s lips.
In the end…
No one could truly be trusted.
Not comrades.
Not loyalty.
Not even blood.
His gaze slowly lifted toward the mysterious soldier once more.
Then his eyes suddenly narrowed.
The sword.
That blade…
Even beneath layers of ash and blood, Wang Li recognized it instantly.
A black hilt.
A crimson spirit stone embedded within its center.
The Heaven Authority Sword.
The ancestral blade of the Wang family.
Not even the current family head possessed it. The sword had disappeared generations ago and was believed lost somewhere within the volcanic regions surrounding Crimson City.
Yet now—
It stood directly before him.
Wang Li’s breathing grew uneven.
But what truly shook him—
Was not the sword itself.
It was the stance.
The soldier slowly lowered the blade beside his waist.
Not in a traditional swordsman’s posture—
But low and angled backward, with his center of gravity pushed entirely forward. One foot dug firmly into the scorched ground while the other remained loose behind, allowing explosive movement in unstable terrain.
The posture resembled a predator stalking prey through volcanic ash fields.
A stance designed for hunting stronger enemies.
The First Form of the Ashen Hunt Sword Style.
A sword art created around pursuit, pressure, and killing efficiency rather than elegance.
Only one man had ever mastered it completely.
Wang Tian.
Wang Li’s eyes trembled violently.
Impossible.
He had already watched his father die during the siege of Crimson City.
He had seen enemy blades pierce through his body.
So how—
“TRAITOR!”
The furious roar shattered Wang Li’s thoughts.
Several nearby enemy soldiers finally reacted.
Their expressions twisted with rage as spiritual energy erupted around them.
“KILL HIM!”
The battlefield exploded into motion.
One soldier lunged first, his crimson spear piercing through the smoke like lightning.
The hooded warrior moved instantly.
Not backward—
Forward.
His body dropped unnaturally low as the spear passed inches above him. The black sword dragged briefly against the scorched earth—
Sparks erupted behind the blade.
Then came a single upward slash.
A crescent of compressed crimson flame tore diagonally through the soldier’s body.
The attacker froze mid-step.
Then split cleanly in half.
Blood evaporated before touching the ground.
Three more soldiers charged from different directions simultaneously.
The hooded man twisted sharply.
The First Form flowed seamlessly into the Second.
His sword arm loosened completely—
Relaxed.
Fluid.
The blade curved around incoming attacks like flowing fire before accelerating violently at impossible angles.
Slash.
Slash.
Slash.
The movements lacked beauty.
They were brutal.
Direct.
Every strike aimed purely to kill in the shortest motion possible.
One soldier lost both arms instantly.
Another’s chest caved inward from the force of a hilt strike before the blade pierced through his throat.
The third tried retreating—
Too late.
The crimson spirit stone embedded within the sword suddenly glowed brighter.
“Second Form,” the hooded warrior spoke coldly.
“Ember Fang Descent.”
The sword fell downward.
The earth exploded.
Crimson fire burst upward beneath the retreating soldiers like a volcanic eruption, swallowing them instantly. Their screams lasted only moments before disappearing beneath roaring flames.
Silence returned once more.
Only burning corpses remained standing.
The surviving enemy soldiers finally hesitated.
Fear appeared in their pale eyes.
This was not swordsmanship.
This was slaughter refined into technique.
The hooded man slowly turned toward them.
Then he walked forward.
One step.
Another.
The remaining soldiers broke instantly.
Some attempted fleeing.
Others attacked desperately.
None survived longer than moments.
When it ended—
Only one figure remained alive upon the battlefield.
The hooded warrior stood silently amidst drifting ash and fire.
Then—
He turned toward Wang Li.
Slow footsteps approached across the scorched earth.
Wang Li’s vision trembled weakly as the figure stopped before him.
At last, the hooded man slowly lowered his hood.
A familiar face appeared beneath drifting ash.
Wang Li’s eyes widened violently.
“…Father…”
His voice cracked painfully.
“You… you’re alive…?”
Disbelief filled his expression.
“How…? I saw you—”
Wang Tian said nothing.
His face remained unreadable beneath the crimson glow of the battlefield.
Only silence lingered between father and son.
Then—
Wang Tian slowly reached beneath his robes.
A black dagger appeared within his hand.
Unlike the ancient sword, this blade carried no beauty.
Only malice.
Dark crimson veins crawled across the dagger’s surface while traces of thick black liquid shimmered faintly along its edge.
Wang Li’s exhausted pupils shrank.
That poison—
Before he could react—
Slash.
The dagger plunged directly into Wang Li’s chest.
Pain exploded through his body.
Blood splattered across the scorched earth as Wang Li staggered violently, disbelief consuming his expression.
“W… why…?”
His breathing immediately became heavy.
The world around him started spinning.
His spiritual veins turned numb one by one while even his heartbeat slowed unnaturally.
Sleeping Death Resin.
A forbidden paralytic capable of forcing even powerful cultivators into unconsciousness.
Wang Li’s knees nearly gave out.
Wang Tian caught him before he collapsed completely.
For the first time—
Emotion flickered across his father’s face.
Guilt.
Sorrow.
Relief.
“I’m sorry,” Wang Tian whispered quietly.
“But this is the only way.”
Then—
His hand struck the back of Wang Li’s neck.
Darkness swallowed everything.