The Withered Shrine groaned , its ancient stone walls weeping crimson mist as if the very earth shuddered in horror. 

The God-Spite Essence coursing through Jiang Xuan’s veins burned like liquid fire, gnawing at the edges of his mind, unraveling thought and reason alike.

He didn’t care.

His pulse thundered in his ears like war drums summoning battle.

Every breath he took tasted of copper and death , thick with corruption and power.

And then , the sect’s hounds arrived.

Five figures clad in blood-red robes burst through the outer wards like a blade drawn from its sheath, their presence heralded by a ripple of spiritual pressure. 

Their blades gleamed with spirit-forged light , each edge inscribed with suppression runes designed to cut through even the strongest cultivators.

Their faces were pale, hollow with fanaticism.

Their eyes burned with ruthless zeal , unflinching executioners sent to silence him forever.

Two at Foundation Establishment , two at Qi Condensation , and one at mid-Stage Core Formation .

Too much for any ordinary outer disciple.

Too much for anyone still clinging to sanity.

Jiang Xuan’s lips curled into a slow, savage grin.

[System Alert: Blood Calamity Surge Active. ]

The world slowed to a crawl . His vision darkened at the edges, tinted crimson with hunger and rage. 

Every heartbeat of his enemies echoed like war drums in his ears. 

Every drop of spilled blood whispered to him , calling, guiding, feeding.

The Core Formation leader raised his hand, voice cold and commanding. “Jiang Xuan. 

In the name of Canglei Sect’s Council, you are sentenced to immediate extermination. ”

Too slow.

Jiang Xuan moved before the final word could leave their lips.

A pulse of black-crimson light erupted from his palm , violent, searing, alive.

The Blood Calamity Surge manifested , a jagged, writhing serpent of pure killing intent, its form shifting like living blood mist, coiling and uncoiling with predatory grace.

The nearest Qi Condensation cultivator never even had time to scream.

The serpent struck , wrapping around his throat in an instant. In the next heartbeat, his entire body shriveled , flesh collapsing inward as blood and essence were stripped clean. 

All that remained was a hollow husk, eyes wide in frozen terror.

The others reacted , too late.

A sword flashed toward Jiang Xuan’s throat, blazing with suppression runes.

He caught it , with his bare hand.

The steel hissed against his flesh, drawing a thin line of blood… and then his palm erupted in crimson tendrils that devoured the weapon’s spiritual energy. 

The blade rusted, cracked, and crumbled into dust.

His free hand shot forward , striking the Foundation Establishment disciple square in the chest.

Bones shattered like glass beneath his touch.

The man’s heart ruptured , bursting in a spray of gore that painted the stone floor.

Jiang Xuan didn’t stop. He twisted mid-motion, unleashing a second wave of Calamity Surge tendrils .

The crimson mist hissed and slithered like vipers born of nightmare, piercing through the remaining Blood Seekers before they could retreat. 

Their bodies convulsed, veins draining in seconds.

By the time the Core Formation leader finally reacted, his entire squad was already dead.

Panic flickered in his eyes , raw, unmasked fear.

“Monster… ”

Jiang Xuan’s grin widened, blood staining his teeth, dripping from his lips.

“You haven’t seen monstrous yet.”

He lunged , not a blur, but a storm given form .

Their clash sent shockwaves through the shrine, splitting stone and shattering ancient pillars. 

Spirit talismans ignited in bursts of divine fire. 

Sword light clashed with crimson tendrils in a storm of blood and spirit fire.

But the longer the fight stretched on, the more Jiang Xuan’s power surged , feeding off the blood-soaked earth, strengthened by the ancient malice embedded in this place.

[Hunger Brand Effect: Shrine Zone Amplification +30% ]

A single tendril lashed out, striking the Core Formation cultivator’s leg with brutal precision. 

It seared through flesh and bone like molten iron, leaving a charred, smoking wound.

The man staggered, his breath ragged and uneven, terror bleeding into his eyes.

Jiang Xuan’s system chimed , cold, mechanical, triumphant.

[Blood Calamity Surge - Saturation Threshold Reached. ]

A violent surge of power rolled through him , raw, unrestrained, ancient. 

The blood mist around him twisted and coiled , solidifying into a crimson serpent-dragon , its form massive, its presence suffocating. 

Its gaping maw yawned open with a deafening screech that echoed through stone and soul alike , then it lunged.

The cultivator raised his final barrier talisman, hands trembling.

The serpent shattered it like brittle parchment , no resistance, no delay.

The man’s final scream tore through the shrine, raw and agonized, before the blood mist devoured him whole , stripping flesh from bone, essence from spirit. 

All that remained was a pile of bleached remains and a tattered sect token, still warm with fading spiritual residue.

Silence fell , heavy, thick, reverent.

Jiang Xuan’s chest heaved, his body trembling under the weight of the power now coursing through him.

The shrine itself seemed to pulse in approval , as if something buried deep beneath the earth had taken notice.

[System Alert: Calamity Threshold Breach - New Title Acquired: Shrine-Borne Harbinger. ]

Far above, within the sect’s Grand Hall , Elder Qiu staggered , blood trickling from his nose, his vision swimming with crimson shadows. 

He clutched his head, gasping for air.

In the dim light, Venerable Shan rose from his meditation, his aged face pale with dread.

“He’s awakened something,” the old man rasped, voice hollow with fear.

“Call the inner guardians. Seal the mountain. ”

In the distance, atop a wind-battered cliff shrouded in silver mist, the silver-veiled figure watched without blinking.

“He’s ready,” the figure murmured, voice barely more than a whisper lost to the wind.

“Phase Three begins. ”

Jiang Xuan stood amidst the blood-soaked ruins, his new title burning brightly within his system panel , a mark of infamy carved in fire and slaughter.

“Let them come, ” he whispered, voice hoarse, dark, filled with promise.

“This mountain will drown in blood before I fall. ”