The following day dawned grim and grey, the sky heavy with brooding clouds that choked the light from the world.

Before Jiang Xuan could even finish sweeping the courtyard, a pair of burly servant disciples grabbed him by the shoulders, yanking him away with brutal force toward the inner yard.

“New pill test today, cripple,” one sneered, his breath hot with cruelty.

“Try not to die too quick. We need to see what this one does.”

Jiang Xuan offered no resistance, his expression unreadable, calm as still water.

Inside, however, a storm raged , silent, seething, alive .

They dragged him into a secluded courtyard where a crooked old steward waited, hunched like a withered root. 

Flanking him stood four assistant disciples, their faces blank, indifferent.

On a lacquered tray beside the steward rested a small jade vial. The liquid within shimmered with an ominous black sheen, dark mist curling from its surface like living smoke.

The very air around it reeked of decay and death.

The crowd of onlookers swelled , outer sect servants, petty disciples, even a few low-ranked inner sect bullies, all gathered in eager anticipation to watch the cripple perish.

The steward’s grin was oily, stretched wide across his wrinkled face.

“Drink.”

One of the lackeys shoved the vial into Jiang Xuan’s hands.

He didn’t hesitate.

Without a word, he lifted the vial, tilted his head back, and swallowed every last drop.

A collective gasp rippled through the courtyard.

“H-He just… drank it?”

The poison struck like lightning. Jiang Xuan’s veins bulged grotesquely beneath his skin, his flesh mottled with spreading patches of black. 

Yet instead of collapsing, a savage, blood-red aura erupted from his body , wild, violent, inhuman .

The ground beneath his feet cracked and splintered under the pressure of unseen power.

“Wh-what’s happening?!”

[System prompt: Fatal Poison detected. Engaging Bloodline Devour Protocol.]

Inside him, the Soul Engulfing Heaven Art howled to life , a storm of ancient power surging through his veins like a ravenous beast awakened from slumber.

The poison, lethal to any ordinary cultivator, became nothing more than fuel in the furnace of his forbidden art , burning away weakness, melting corruption, and forging his bloodline into something darker, denser, deadlier .

Pain. Fire. Power.

A trinity of transformation.

Jiang Xuan gritted his teeth, jaw locked in silent endurance. 

His vision blurred at the edges, the world wavering like a mirage, yet his focus remained razor-sharp , honed like a blade before the kill.

Now. Strike.

He moved , not with hesitation, but with brutal certainty.

Before the nearest assistant disciple could even twitch a muscle, Jiang Xuan’s hand shot out like a coiled viper striking in the dark, wrapping around the man’s throat with unrelenting force.

The lackey’s eyes bulged wide with shock and terror.

“H-How.”

[Devour Technique: Essence Drain.]

A violent surge of stolen spiritual power erupted into Jiang Xuan’s body, raw and intoxicating , a flood of foreign essence ripped from the disciple’s core.

The lackey’s skin withered like parched leaves in flame, his once-proud cultivation base stripped away in an instant. All that remained was a shriveled, lifeless husk crumpling to the ground.

The courtyard exploded into chaos.

Panic-stricken disciples screamed, scrambling over one another in a desperate bid to escape.

The old steward staggered back, his face drained of all color, lips trembling.

“You… you monster!”

Jiang Xuan smiled , slow, cold, razor-edged.

“I told you,” he said, voice calm, unshaken. “I’m done being your toy.”

Another assistant disciple, driven by fear or foolish courage, lunged at him with a sword raised high , a wild, desperate strike.

Too slow.

Jiang Xuan’s palm shot forward like a striking serpent, slamming into the man’s chest with bone-shattering force.

Crack.

Ribs shattered beneath the impact. The disciple collapsed like a broken puppet, coughing up a spray of blood before collapsing to the ground.

The remaining lackeys turned and fled, their bravado long gone.

Behind Jiang Xuan, the air warped and twisted as a towering, ethereal phantom took shape , a monstrous silhouette forged from shadow and roaring flame.

Its maw stretched wide in a silent roar, its eyes twin pits of burning crimson light.

The very earth trembled beneath its presence.

Even distant elders felt the ripple in the spiritual currents.

Mistveil Grove stirred.

Somewhere deep within the sect’s forbidden lands, hidden in the darkness of ancient ruins, a lone figure in black robes opened his eyes , pupils gleaming like obsidian shards.

A cruel smile touched his lips.

“It begins.”

Jiang Xuan inhaled deeply. 

The last remnants of poison had vanished from his body, replaced by something far more potent , raw, thrumming power surging through his veins.

[System prompt: Bloodline Progression 58%. Strength: Spirit Gathering (Peak).]

He turned toward the fleeing steward.

“Tell your masters,” Jiang Xuan said softly, voice like the edge of a blade,

“the trash they scorned is coming.”

The Devourer had awakened.