The world beyond the sect’s forbidden valley was deathly silent , a graveyard of forgotten history and long-buried sins. 

Jiang Xuan moved with the grace of a predator, his steps soundless, deliberate. 

The crimson jade slip in his palm pulsed like a dying heartbeat, each rhythm guiding him deeper into the lifeless ravine.

Past withered trees twisted like broken limbs.

Past ancient stone pillars etched with characters no living disciple dared to decipher.

Above, the sky bled a thin, unnatural crimson , as if even the heavens recoiled from what lay ahead.

He paused at the threshold of a crumbling gate, its iron bars rusted and warped by time. 

The air beyond shimmered with old killing wards , half-faded, but still potent enough to slice through the unprepared. 

Rusted talismans clung to the posts like dying insects, whispering warnings lost to memory.

No path marked the way forward.

Only the lingering presence of despair and decay.

A lesser man would have turned back.

Jiang Xuan stepped through without hesitation.

The moment his foot crossed the threshold, the atmosphere shifted , heavy, oppressive, alive. 

The sky seemed to lower, clouds thick and ink-black, pressing down like the breath of something ancient watching from beneath the earth. 

The air reeked of dried blood , burnt offerings , and the faint metallic tang of corruption , thick enough to choke the lungs.

A crushing pressure settled upon his spirit sea, forcing even his system to flicker like a candle caught in the wind.

[System Alert: Host entering Sealed Calamity Zone. ]

[Threat Rating: Tier-5 Forbidden. ]

Good.

It meant no one else would follow.

He passed through a desolate courtyard where shattered statues of long-forgotten deities lay in ruinous heaps. 

Some bore grotesque faces , too many eyes, mouths that stretched from ear to ear. Others had been so thoroughly defaced that their original forms were indistinguishable, swallowed by time and madness.

Yet amidst the rubble, something stirred.

From the shadows of fallen pillars and broken altars, hunched figures emerged , wraithlike things, neither fully living nor truly dead. 

Their bodies cracked and flickered like warped marionettes, their faces twisted by centuries of agony and hunger. 

Black mist leaked from hollow eye sockets, curling like smoke around their limbs.

Jiang Xuan’s lips curled into a cold smile.

[Hunger Brand Active: Target Essence Detected. ]

[Devour Opportunity: Confirm? Y/N ]

“Yes. ”

A violent pulse of pitch-black energy erupted from his palm, tearing through the air like a shadow-born blade. 

The nearest wraith let out a soundless shriek before its form unraveled into a spiraling vortex of essence and mist. 

The others lunged in frenzied hunger, only to meet the same fate , their bodies ripped apart mid-charge by the relentless surge of his Devour Vein Pulse .

Essence flowed into him , warm, rich, addictive .

[Bloodline Assimilation: +2% ]

[Vitality Restored: 30% ]

The weight pressing on his spirit sea eased , replaced by a dangerous, intoxicating heat.

A voice, ancient and sibilant, rose from the heart of the shrine , not spoken, but felt , like the echo of a nightmare clawing its way into reality.

You carry the Brand. You are marked. 

The shrine remembers.

Jiang Xuan’s gaze narrowed. “Good, ” he muttered.

He pressed deeper, passing remnants of forbidden rites lost to time. 

Charred bones lay arranged in ceremonial circles, scorched by rituals long abandoned. 

Half-melted spirit jades still radiated faint, corrupted energy, humming softly like trapped spirits begging for release.

The deeper he went, the thicker the mist became , clinging to his skin like a living thing, 

wrapping around his limbs, whispering secrets in tongues long buried.

Finally, at the heart of the shrine, a lone statue stood untouched by time or decay.

Carved from stone so black it seemed to drink the light, its surface rippled like a pool of liquid ink. 

The figure it depicted was humanoid, cloaked in serpents that coiled around its body like living chains. 

In one upraised hand, it held a single drop of dark, congealed liquid.

A drop of frozen black blood .

Jiang Xuan’s system screamed warnings, alarms flashing red across his vision.

[Relic-Class Item Detected: God-Spite Essence. ]

[Warning: Consuming may trigger irreversible mutations. ]

[System Integrity: 63% Stable. ]

But he’d come too far to hesitate.

Without pause, he stepped forward and seized the drop.

The moment it touched his skin, it seared into his palm , tendrils of ink-like energy burrowing deep into his veins. 

Agony unlike anything he’d known tore through his mind, splitting thought from flesh.

His vision blackened.

And then came the images , visions flooding his soul.

Gods hunted across empty skies.

Ancient betrayers sealed beneath shattered worlds.

Starborn sects razed to ash by forces they could not comprehend.

Somewhere distant, his own blood screamed.

[New Active Skill Acquired: Blood Calamity Surge. ]

The shrine trembled.

A low, droning hum reverberated through the chamber. 

Statues cracked. Mist thickened. Beyond the gates, distant shouts rang out — sect pursuers closing in. 

Spirit signatures flared , two at Foundation Establishment , one at late-stage Core Condensation , followed by a full squad.

Too many.

And yet… Jiang Xuan grinned.

The God-Spite Essence seethed within him, power surging through his meridians like a storm breaking free. 

His Hunger Brand pulsed , a living heart embedded in his soul.

He was no longer prey.

He was a calamity waiting to be unleashed.

“Come then, ” he murmured, voice ragged, dark, filled with promise.

“Let’s see how much of your sect I can bury with me.”

As the first sect hounds breached the outer wards, Jiang Xuan’s figure vanished into the mist , a shadow sharpened by hatred, rebirth, and something far older than either.