"Impossible!" exclaimed a man with a jade sword at his waist, trying to steady his nerves. "The Sacred Pavilion Heavenly Leaf has Elder Qing He. She would never allow the purity of the Fairies to be defiled by such heretical beliefs. Their arrival here must be only to cause trouble, not to be recognized."

  Zhi Xuan stood silently amidst those fearful whispers. His Ghost Hood remained lowered, but his sharp senses had already locked onto the figure atop the blood-red palanquin. The aura radiating from it was indeed pungent—the thick scent of blood mixed with forced essence—a technique all too familiar to the eyes of one who had once walked the path of darkness.

  Atop the magnificent yet horrifying red palanquin, a youth with skin as pale as marble and ruby-red lips leaned back lazily. His narrow eyes glinted with a dim red light, sweeping over the crowd of practitioners with a disdainful gaze, as if he were walking through a livestock market to choose his next slaughter.

  "The Holy City..." Young Master Xue's voice sounded hoarse, yet it carried a resonance that pierced the ears. "There is far too much of a sickening peach blossom scent here. I need pure blood essence to wash my parched throat."

  "Patience, Young Master," replied one of the palanquin bearers in a heavy, deep voice. "Once we conquer the West Flower Towers and obtain that Ancient Cultivation Technique, all the sacred women in this pavilion will crawl beneath your feet to beg for mercy."

  Hearing such brazen conversation on sacred ground, several practitioners from local clans gnashed their teeth. A gallant youth in sky-blue robes stepped forward, blocking the palanquin's path with a sword that was still sheathed yet radiated a solid Soul Transformation aura.

  "Stop!" the blue-robed youth shouted, his voice thundering across the marble plaza. "This is the Holy City, not your Red Blood Sect's rat hole! If you have come only to bring chaos and foul words, you had best turn back before the Pavilion's law enforcement swords greet your necks!"

  The crowd instantly held their breath. "That’s Jiang Cheng from the Five-Color Sect!" someone whispered. "He’s known as the most fiery youth in the peripheral regions. He won't let the dignity of the Western Region be trampled."

  Young Master Xue slowly sat upright and signaled for his palanquin to stop. A cold, thin smile curled on his lips. "A watchdog from a minor clan dares to bark in front of my palanquin? Interesting. I wonder, is your blood as blue as your robes, or is it a deep red like that of other losers?"

  The atmosphere on the marble plaza suddenly turned frigid—a tension capable of making low-level practitioners faint from the overflowing mental pressure.

  Zhi Xuan, who had been standing like a forgotten shadow, narrowed his eyes beneath his Ghost Hood. To him, this display was nothing more than a boring drama between two parties equally hungry for recognition. However, he noticed the crowd around him beginning to move back, creating an empty circle around Jiang Cheng and Young Master Xue.

  Zhi Xuan turned on his heel, his black-and-white robes swishing softly over the celestial marble as he stepped away from the center of the commotion. Behind him, the clinking of a sword being drawn and the shrill laughter of Young Master Xue broke out, followed by an explosion of spiritual energy that slammed into the atmosphere. But to Zhi Xuan, the ripples of mid-stage Soul Transformation power were no more than splashes of water on the surface of a calm lake.

  "Quite the lone wolf," Ruo Xianxue mocked, though her voice now sounded slightly wary. "You ignore the entertainment, even though the blood technique of that pale brat could fetch a good price for refining your puppets. But I know... your eyes are only on those towers."

  Zhi Xuan did not respond; he simply walked away. However, a light thud and a sweeping spiritual wave brushed his robes from behind. Zhi Xuan turned slightly, raising his right hand as Jiang Cheng’s body, which had been sent flying, was halted in mid-air by the pressure from Zhi Xuan's hand without even touching him.

  Jiang Cheng’s body hung in the air, frozen inches before slamming into a sturdy marble pillar. The blue-robed youth gasped, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. His eyes widened as he realized it wasn't his own inner strength that had stopped the lethal momentum, but a wall of energy—bland yet unshakable.

  Zhi Xuan kept his back to the crowd, his right hand still slightly raised with open fingers. In his eyes, Jiang Cheng was merely a pawn accidentally tossed into his path.

  "This... fellow practitioner?" Jiang Cheng whispered hoarsely. He felt a pure coldness flowing from his back, extinguishing the fire of red blood essence that had begun damaging his meridians from Young Master Xue’s attack.

  Young Master Xue, who had been laughing arrogantly, suddenly stopped. His red eyes flashed sharply, staring at the back of the hooded figure who appeared ordinary yet was capable of neutralizing his attack's shockwave with a single hand.

  "Ho? A little rat dares to interfere in my business?" Young Master Xue leaped down from his palanquin, landing with a smirk that revealed small fangs. "I didn't know the Holy City kept beggars with decent tricks. Hey, you in the hood! Turn around and show your face before I rip that drab hood off your head!"

  Zhi Xuan slowly lowered his hand. Jiang Cheng slumped to the marble floor, coughing blood, but his life had been saved. A suffocating silence enveloped the plaza. Thousands of eyes were now fixed on Zhi Xuan’s back, which remained as straight as a sword thrust into the earth.

  Zhi Xuan exhaled softly, a thin vapor escaping from beneath his hood. He did not turn around. His voice came out in a flat tone, yet every syllable was like the tolling of a death bell echoing in the minds of every practitioner present.

  "This man is merely a wanderer who happened to seek fortune in the Western Region," Zhi Xuan said coldly. "I have no intention of offending this young master."

  Young Master Xue exploded into a laugh that sounded like the grinding of rusted metal. "A wanderer? Seeking fortune?" He stepped forward, each footstep leaving a trace of red vapor smelling of fishy blood upon the celestial marble. "You just extinguished my intent with your bare hands, and you dare call yourself a lowly wanderer?"

  Zhi Xuan remained motionless. He could feel the gaze of thousands of eyes—hopeful looks from the weak, and scrutinizing stares from the geniuses of the great clans.

  "I have no business with you, Young Master from the North," Zhi Xuan said, his voice now traveling low, making the hair on the necks of the surrounding practitioners stand up. "I shall simply leave and forget this."

  Young Master Xue snorted cynically, his hand moving quickly to form a claw coated in thick blood mist. "Forget? In this world, no one forgets a debt of life to the Red Blood Sect! If you do not wish to show your face, then let me take your head instead!"

  SRAAAAK—!

  Young Master Xue lunged like red lightning, his claws tearing through the air with a speed that surpassed the vision of low-realm practitioners. Just as the tips of the claws touched the hood Zhi Xuan wore, Zhi Xuan raised his hand and collided directly with Young Master Xue.

  WHUMP! WHUMP! WHUMP!

  The shockwave from the collision triggered no explosion of fire or blinding light, but a dull thud that seemed to suck the sound out of the surroundings. The celestial marble beneath Zhi Xuan’s feet cracked in a spider-web pattern, yet his body did not shift an inch.

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  "You..." hissed Young Master Xue, his pale face now showing signs of shock. "What kind of power is this? You are no ordinary practitioner!"

  Zhi Xuan did not answer. He thrust his hand forward, blasting Young Master Xue backward with a subtle boom that sent the pale youth spinning through the air before he skidded onto the ground. Young Master Xue landed with a thud that shattered the marble tiles, his feet dragging several depa before he finally stabilized his position.

  CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

  The sound came from Zhi Xuan. His hood, which appeared conical and carried a blinding perception, was now cracking—the fractures expanding slowly and uncontrollably. The cracks spread like black lightning across the shattered marble, emitting a screeching sound that sliced through the Holy City's silence.

  Fragments of the Ghost Hood that had long hidden Zhi Xuan’s identity began to fall one by one, hitting the celestial marble floor before evaporating into thin grey smoke. The disguised perception was now completely unveiled.

  There, horror spread into the heart of every practitioner. A pair of sapphire eyes as cold as a bottomless well stared straight toward the horizon. Long, dark purple hair flowed in the sacred mountain wind, while the massacre patterns on his forehead glowed dimly, giving an impression both majestic and terrifying that caused the atmosphere on the plaza to freeze instantly.

  "Gu Fengyan?! That’s... Gu Fengyan?!!"

  The shout was like thunder cleaving a calm sky. That name, which had recently become a terrifying specter in the Southern Region, now echoed in the heart of the Western Region’s sanctity. The practitioners in the front row recoiled, crawling away with faces filled with pure horror.

  Zhi Xuan stood calmly, letting the Holy City wind play with his dark purple hair. Without the Ghost Hood masking his aura, the coldness he radiated was no longer restrained. The marble around his feet began to be covered in a thin, creeping layer of ice, killing every ripple of spiritual energy that tried to approach.

  "A devil... the Scourge of the Southern Region is here!" hissed a clan elder, his voice nearly vanishing in his throat.

  The echo of that name was like a death bell being hammered repeatedly in the minds of everyone present. The Holy City, once filled with the scent of peach blossoms and purity, suddenly turned into a chilling field of ice. Fear was a plague, and beneath that sapphire gaze, the plague paralyzed the joints of the geniuses who had just been so arrogant.

  "Gu... Gu Fengyan?" Jiang Cheng, still sitting on the floor, murmured with trembling lips. He stared at the back of the man who had just saved him with a look of disbelief. The man he thought was a lowly wanderer was actually the storm that had destroyed the great sects of the South. "The butcher... is standing before me?"

  Young Master Xue, who had been overflowing with bloodlust, now felt his heart racing—not from excitement, but from the primal instinct of a beast encountering an apex predator. He stared at the pattern on Zhi Xuan’s forehead—the pattern rumored to be able to suck the soul of anyone who stared at it for too long.

  "You..." Young Master Xue hissed, cold sweat beginning to drench his pale forehead. "So it’s true... the rumors of the Southern Devil moving to the West weren't just hearsay. But how dare you... how dare you show your face before the Sacred Pavilion Heavenly Leaf!"

  In the crowd, the commotion broke into uncontrollable panic.

  "Run! Don't let his eyes lock onto you!" shouted a practitioner from the Central Region while drawing his sword with trembling hands. "I heard in the South, he erased thousands of lives with a single wave of his hand! He is a walking curse!"

  "Why hasn't the Law Enforcement Elder arrived?!" cried a woman from a local sect, her face deathly pale. "This is the Holy City! How can a butcher from the Devil Path walk so calmly upon our celestial marble?!"

  "Look at his eyes... those aren't human eyes," whispered another, cowering behind a large pillar. "Those are eyes that have seen hell freeze over. Don't go near, or your soul will be frozen forever!"

  "The Southern Calamity, this is Gu Fengyan!" screamed one of the cultivators crawling back in terror. "With one slash, he cleaved the gates of the Eternal Death Forest; for dozens of days, he slaughtered thousands of Southern practitioners! This... This is him!"

  "Gu Fengyan... the destroyer of bloodlines?" A middle-aged practitioner from the White Cloud Sect fell to his knees, his hands shaking so violently his jade sword clattered onto the marble. "I heard he destroyed three Soul Transformations without blinking! Why... why can a monster like him cross the Sky Veil?!"

  "This is the end! The heavens have abandoned the Western Region!" screamed a woman from the back row, her voice piercingly hysterical. "Look at the mark on his forehead! It is the Mark of Death!"

  "This is insane! Utterly insane!" shouted a herbal merchant while throwing away his basket. "We came to see the Fairies, but instead we met the King of Hell! The Western Region will become a sea of corpses if he releases even one slash here!"

  "Run! Get to safety immediately! Don't let him catch your scent!"

  Zhi Xuan stood motionless in the middle of the storm of panic he had accidentally created. The strong wind blowing from the peak of the sacred mountain tossed strands of his dark purple hair, emphasizing his sharp features like an carving of eternal ice.

  "That hood... it seems it has reached its limit," Zhi Xuan whispered flatly. His voice wasn't loud, yet amidst the hysterical screams, his words were as clear as thunder traveling across water.

  Zhi Xuan shifted his gaze. His dark purple hair fluttered gently; he didn't even release a spark of killing intent, yet it felt as if he had already killed them in several previous reincarnations. He could feel several streaks of light racing toward him from a distance, yet he remained calm.

  The racing lights were like falling stars cleaving the silver sky of the Holy City, leaving trails of pure golden light. They were the Law Enforcers of the Sacred Pavilion Heavenly Leaf, whose presence was always accompanied by the tolling of mental bells capable of calming turbulent spiritual essence.

  However, in the presence of the figure with flowing dark purple hair, that golden light seemed to dim, intimidated by the absolute silence radiated by Zhi Xuan.

  "Devil of the South! Stop where you are!" a voice thundered from the sky. Five figures in pristine white robes landed around Zhi Xuan, forming a five-directional formation that locked the space around him. Each held a glowing silver staff, emitting webs of sacred energy that tried to suppress the cold aura of the Devil.

  Zhi Xuan did not move his fingers at all. He only gave a thin sideways glance at the energy web beginning to crawl over the celestial marble near his feet. "The law in this place... feels very fragile," he murmured, his voice containing a vibration that made the energy web crack before it even touched his robes.

  "Impudent!" one of the Law Enforcers, an old man with a long white beard, shouted in rage. "You have spilled blood in the Southern Region until the rivers turned red, and now you dare bring your filth to the gates of the Holy City? Do you think the Sacred Pavilion Heavenly Leaf is a place you can trample like ownerless land?"

  Zhi Xuan slowly raised his face. His sharp sapphire eyes locked onto those of the Law Enforcement Elder. Instantly, the old man felt as if his heart were being squeezed by an invisible hand of ice. All the declarations he was about to spew got stuck in his throat, replaced by a paralyzing sensation of cold in his meridians.

  "I did not come here to challenge your authority," Zhi Xuan said, each word coming out like a drop of dew freezing into a thorn. "I came for the West Flower Towers. If your laws forbid a wanderer from seeking his destiny, then it is the law itself that should be destroyed."

  "The West Flower Towers?" Young Master Xue, still standing at a distance with knees slightly trembling, shouted hoarsely. "You want to climb those sacred towers? You are a Devil! Your place is in the depths of a dungeon, not at the peak of a tower!"

  Zhi Xuan shifted his gaze toward Young Master Xue. It was only a light glance, yet it was enough to make the Northern youth stagger back and spit a mouthful of black blood. "An insect should not offer an opinion on the flight path of an eagle," Zhi Xuan hissed.

  "You speak as if I came with the intent to cause chaos," Zhi Xuan hissed coldly, turning his gaze back toward the law enforcers. "Is the Sacred Pavilion Heavenly Leaf not the ruler of the Western Region? You speak as if you know what I experienced in the South."

  "I am here purely to challenge the West Flower Towers," Zhi Xuan stated firmly once more, though he began to feel the heavy pressure. "If wandering practitioners can challenge the towers regardless of their path, why can't I?"

  The white-bearded Elder trembled, his silver staff clinking loudly against the celestial marble which was now starting to crack from the pure hawa of two clashing energy poles. He stared at Zhi Xuan’s face—a face too handsome for a butcher, yet too cold for a human.

  "Challenging the West Flower Towers?" The Elder's voice was parau as he tried to summon back the courage that had collapsed. "The tower rules are indeed open to anyone with the qualifications. But you are Gu Fengyan! Your very presence is an insult to the sanctity of this land. How could we let hands stained with blood touch the altar of the West Flower Towers?"

  Zhi Xuan snorted—a sound like the friction of a sword against ice. "Sanctity?" He took one step forward. Instantly, the five-directional formation formed by the law enforcers shook violently. The golden energy webs screamed, bending and cracking as if forced to carry the weight of an entire mountain range.

  "You let the Red Blood Sect in here; you let them bring that fishy palanquin smelling of human furnaces," Zhi Xuan pointed with his gaze toward the still-collapsed Young Master Xue.

  "Is that what you call sanctity? If the blood of a devil practitioner is considered impure, then your hypocrisy is far more disgusting than any corpse pit in the South."

  "You—!" The Elder was lost for words. The truth hurled by Zhi Xuan hit the heart of his authority harder than any physical attack.