"Guilt?" Ruo snorted with disgust. "Toward whom? Those petty geniuses? Or toward that Morning Dew Fairy who stares at you with tear-filled eyes? You are too weak, Zhi Xuan. You are letting human emotions hinder you."

  "You are wrong," Zhi Xuan interrupted. "My guilt is not because of their deaths. I am guilty because I allowed hatred to dictate my every breath. I killed them not because they deserved to die, but because I wanted to see them suffer as I have suffered."

  Silence surged once more. Suddenly, from a small crack in the prison ceiling, a beam of incredibly pure blue light fell slowly, like a stray drop of dew in a desert. The light landed exactly on Zhi Xuan’s forehead, bringing with it the fresh scent of peach blossoms and a foreign sense of warmth.

  Zhi Xuan jolted. He felt the cold of the Nine Solitudes that had been suppressing his soul slightly fade, replaced by a gentle flow of energy washing through his wounded meridians.

  "What is this..." he murmured, his eyes narrowing as he recognized the signature of the spiritual essence. "That girl, what is she doing?"

  "That girl... is truly stubborn," Ruo Xianxue hissed from the depths of his soul, her tone carrying annoyance but hinting at a slight fear toward the purity of the essence that had just entered. "Morning Dew Essence. She is funneling her very essence to you, Zhi Xuan. Do you not realize? Every drop of this light is a sacrifice that will weaken the very foundation of her own Dao."

  Zhi Xuan fell silent, his sapphire eyes now reflecting the sky-blue glow. The warmth crept slowly, not to break Grand Elder Qing He’s seals, but to wrap the cracks in his Dao Heart with a painful tenderness. He could feel the heartbeat of nature carried by the essence—the sound of wind on mountain peaks, the trickle of sacred water, and a sincerity that knew no self-interest.

  "Stop," Zhi Xuan murmured into the void, his voice hoarse. Yet, the drop of light only glowed brighter, as if Ye Xishui were answering his call through an invisible soul frequency.

  High above, far beyond the layers of frozen stone, Ye Xishui stood at the edge of the pavilion cliff, her supple fingers forming a lotus seal. Her face, covered by a sky-blue veil, appeared pale, and beads of cold sweat soaked her brow. Every drop of essence she sent was a life-and-death gamble against the prison laws that thirsted for energy.

  Back in the depths of the Nine Solitudes, the Heavenly Sword on Zhi Xuan’s lap began to vibrate violently. The black blade, once bloodthirsty, was now reacting to Ye Xishui’s pure essence. The blood-red patterns on the sword's surface seemed to clash with the blue light, creating sparks of energy that flickered within the cramped cell.

  Zhi Xuan gritted his teeth, the veins in his neck bulging. The pressure from the essence-suppressing seals and the collision of two opposing energies within his body created a pain capable of turning even a Soul Transformation practitioner into dust.

  "Ugh—!" Zhi Xuan groaned under his breath, his body arching like a bow pulled to its limit.

  Silver-gold blood seeped once more from between his clenched teeth. Within his chest, two extreme forces clashed without mercy. Ye Xishui’s Morning Dew Essence, carrying a pure and gentle Yin nature, sought to wrap his internal wounds, while the Heavenly Sword—the embodiment of ancient malice and slaughter intent—rejected the light with wild ferocity.

  "You see for yourself, Zhi Xuan!" Ruo Xianxue cried out within his Sea of Consciousness, her voice booming amidst the raging storm of energy. "That girl's purity is poison to your sword!"

  Zhi Xuan did not answer. Cold sweat poured down, soaking his tattered robes. Amidst the soul-searing pain, he felt something that had long been missing from his heart: a fragile humanity. The essence sent by Ye Xishui did not just bring healing energy, but fragments of emotion—a care so sincere it caused the fortress of hatred Zhi Xuan had built over hundreds of years to begin to crack.

  "Don't... don't waste your life for me, Xishui," Zhi Xuan whispered in a voice barely audible, drowned out by the increasingly deafening hum of the Heavenly Sword.

  Suddenly, the blood-red patterns on the Heavenly Sword’s blade exploded in a dense, dark glow. A freezing chill of death surged out, attempting to swallow Ye Xishui’s blue light. In an instant, the Nine Solitudes cell became a battlefield between the dawn and eternal night.

  Zhi Xuan realized that if he did not act immediately, Ye Xishui’s essence would be torn apart, and the backlash would shatter her cultivation foundation above. With the remains of his shackled soul strength, Zhi Xuan moved his jet-black left hand, grasping the naked blade of the Heavenly Sword.

  SRAAAK!

  The black metal tore into his palm. Silver-gold blood flowed, soaking the blade. Zhi Xuan used his own blood as a medium to bridge the two opposing energies. He forced his Heavenly Samsara Wheel technique to rotate despite the suppression, attempting to absorb the Morning Dew Essence into his meridians while quelling the Heavenly Sword’s ferocity with a will as hard as steel.

  "Madness! You are truly mad!" Ruo Xianxue screamed in horror. "That is Ancient Heavenly Blood; you give it away so easily just to save that girl's Dao foundation?"

  "Be silent, Ruo!" Zhi Xuan snarled. "I have taken too many lives... I will not let the only light in this cursed place be extinguished because of my selfishness!"

  Atop the pavilion, Ye Xishui’s body trembled violently. She felt an immense pull from deep underground. Her eyes, as clear as a lake, widened as she realized that Zhi Xuan was not only accepting her essence but was also protecting her from the prison’s energetic backlash.

  The wave of soul resonance hit Ye Xishui like an ocean wave raging in a storm. From the black depths of the earth, she felt Zhi Xuan’s will—a wild, arrogant will, yet wrapped in an unshakeable protection. A single drop of silver-gold blood sacrificed by Zhi Xuan flowed through the connected essence path, enveloping Ye Xishui’s Dao foundation with an ancient shield impenetrable by the prison’s foul aura.

  "Zhi Xuan... my feet will not move," Ye Xishui whispered through her gasping breath. Her sky-blue veil fluttered fiercely, emitting a glow that grew brighter even as her face grew as pale as marble.

  Inside the Nine Solitudes cell, the sight was both horrifying and grand. Zhi Xuan sat cross-legged, his left hand gripping the Heavenly Sword’s blade until his veins stood out. With one sharp motion, he drove the Heavenly Sword into the ground beside him, creating a spiritual vibration that forcibly severed the flow of Ye Xishui’s Morning Dew.

  The break in the essence flow created a silent thud that deafened the soul. The remaining sky-blue glow in the prison air flickered for a moment before finally going out, leaving a darkness far more oppressive than before. Zhi Xuan slumped forward, both hands bracing against the damp stone floor.

  His breath came in gasps, carrying cold vapor mixed with the metallic scent of boiling blood. His left hand, which had gripped the blade, was now covered in a dimly glowing silver-gold liquid. The wound did not close immediately; the Heavenly Sword had drunk its master's blood, and the cursed metal now vibrated with a terrifying satisfaction.

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  "You severed it..." Ruo Xianxue spoke, her tone now softening, as if exhausted from witnessing the death-struggle that had just occurred. "If you had let it go for a second longer, your soul would have exploded, or she would have become a soulless husk up there."

  Zhi Xuan did not reply. He struggled to regulate his breathing, letting the Heavenly Samsara Wheel within his mind rotate slowly to stabilize his nearly shattered meridians. Although he had forcibly cut off Ye Xishui's essence, the remnants of that Morning Dew warmth remained, hiding within the cracks of his Dao Heart like spring snow refusing to melt under a blazing sun.

  "Foolish..." Zhi Xuan murmured, his voice hoarse and dry. "That woman... is truly foolish."

  He lifted his head, staring at the prison ceiling which had returned to being silent, dead stone. Behind layers of earth and marble thousands of fathoms thick, he knew Ye Xishui must be falling into a state of extreme exhaustion. Her sacrifice was something that did not fit the logic of a blood-path wanderer like himself.

  "In this world where all prey upon each other, sincerity is the most lethal poison, Zhi Xuan," Ruo whispered again, her voice carrying a warning. "She gave a glimmer of dawn into your hell, but it will only make this darkness more painful when you realize you aren't worthy to hold it."

  Zhi Xuan smirked bitterly. He sat back in a cross-legged position, though his body still trembled violently. He stared at the Heavenly Sword stuck beside him. The black blade now seemed calmer, yet the aura it radiated felt deeper, as if the Ancient Heavenly Blood it had just drunk had awakened a darker, primal consciousness within the metal.

  "Worthy or not, that is none of your business, Ruo," Zhi Xuan replied with recovering firmness. "If she wants to ensure my fire isn't extinguished, I will let her. But I will not let her be burned in this fire."

  Zhi Xuan began to channel the remaining absorbed Morning Dew Essence to wash his internal wounds. Under the pressure of the Nine Solitudes, this healing process was slow and agonizing. Every time the blue energy flowed past his torn meridians, it felt like holy water poured over burning coals.

  However, at the same time, he felt a mental clarity he hadn't experienced since leaving the Xing Luo Plains. The darkness of the Nine Solitudes no longer felt so suffocating. To him, the seven lunar cycles here were no longer just a punishment for heart-cleansing from Grand Elder Qing He, but an opportunity to piece back together the shattered fragments of himself.

  Outside the prison, time seemed to stop for those who waited. But inside that cold cell, Zhi Xuan began to enter a state of deep meditation. He no longer tried to fight the seals shackling him; instead, he began to listen to the silence.

  "If the world wants me to be a Devil, I will be a Devil who commands his own darkness," Zhi Xuan whispered before finally sinking completely into the limitless silence of his mind. "Zhu Qinglan, Ye Xishui... they are different, yet inevitable."

  Time seemed to freeze within that stifling womb of the earth. Seconds melted into hours, and hours faded into endless days. Amidst the suffocating silence, Zhi Xuan sat like an ancient stone statue abandoned by time. The remnants of the Morning Dew Essence settling in his veins began to work, creeping through the torn meridians like silk threads reweaving a shredded cloth.

  The Nine Solitudes was not merely a prison for the body; it was a furnace of refinement that preyed upon sanity. The chill radiating from the stone walls was no ordinary cold, but a pervasive Yin aura that sought to freeze the flow of internal essence and extinguish the soul lantern. But for Zhi Xuan, this cold was an old friend.

  "You are far too calm, Zhi Xuan," Ruo Xianxue’s voice echoed again, now as thin as the rustle of wind through meadow grass. "Has the blue light from that fairy truly softened your bones? You no longer radiate that wild killing intent. That is dangerous. In this place, if you are not the predator, you will become prey to your own shadows."

  Zhi Xuan did not open his eyes. His tightly closed lids held a deep clarity. "Calmness is not weakness, Ruo. The sharpest sword is the one kept in its scabbard, hiding its glint until the right moment to take a life. I am aligning my heartbeat with the heartbeat of this earth."

  He could feel the heavy pulse of the earth beneath him. Deep below, the roots of the grand Heavenly Leaf Tree spread, carrying a massive essence of life. Although Grand Elder Qing He’s seals suppressed his cultivation base to its lowest point, Zhi Xuan realized that this pressure was forcing him to understand the structure of energy from the most fundamental level.

  Suddenly, Zhi Xuan’s ears caught a subtle vibration in the air. It was not the sound of footsteps, but the resonance of a natural law shifting. At the heavy door of his cell, the shadows seemed to sway, then slowly solidified into a figure wrapped in a faceless grey robe.

  "It has been a long time since I saw an inhabitant capable of enduring without howling in madness in the first month," the voice was raspy, as if the vocal cords had been rusted by thousands of years of silence.

  Zhi Xuan slowly opened his eyes. His pair of sapphire beads glinted amidst the darkness, staring at the figure without a hint of dread. "The Gatekeeper of the Nine Solitudes?"

  The grey-robed figure did not answer directly. He only stood there, holding an old lantern that emitted a pale green flame—Heavenly Pure Fire. "I am the witness to those buried by their own sins. How do you fare, Gu Fengyan?"

  Zhi Xuan smirked thinly, though his face was still as pale as a corpse. "Oh, you call me by that name. What do you want, Gatekeeper?"

  The grey-robed figure did not budge, yet the green fire in his lantern flickered violently, as if responding to the inner turmoil Zhi Xuan hid. "A name is a prayer, but for you, a name is a shackle. I have come not to judge you, but to see whether the seed Qing He planted will grow into a tree of enlightenment or rot into a devil's root."

  Zhi Xuan snorted, a sound that rang sharp in the silent basement. "Qing He threw me here to extinguish the fires of my hatred. If she hopes I will emerge from here as a compassionate Taoist, then she has wasted her sacred time."

  "Hatred is poison to the body, yet it is a furnace for a strong soul," the Gatekeeper replied, his footsteps silent as he approached the cold iron bars. "However, you bring something that should not be here. That silver-gold blood... it is a legacy from a collapsed era. Why do you let it be tainted by the essence of a bloodthirsty sword?"

  Zhi Xuan glanced at the Heavenly Sword still stuck beside him. The blade seemed to stare back at the Jailer with an equal amount of hatred. "This sword does not taint my blood. It is the very reason this blood still flows. In the world above, Gatekeeper, purity will only end with you inside the refining cauldron of the great clans."

  The Gatekeeper raised his lantern higher. The pale green light swept across Zhi Xuan’s face, revealing the faint patterns of slaughter still flickering on his forehead. "You speak as if you have seen the end of all things. Yet, look at yourself. You are wounded, your spirit is cracked, and you depend on the essence of a girl to stay awake. Is that what you call strength?"

  Zhi Xuan fell silent. The Gatekeeper’s words struck precisely at his weakest point. Silence crept back, heavier than before. Zhi Xuan stared at his palm; he brought it to his face, covering part of it, and laughed low—a raspy sound before it transformed into the laugh of a heaven-defying being.

  The laugh brought no warmth; it resembled the sound of a steel blade scraping against a tombstone, dry and full of cutting irony. The cramped room seemed to vibrate, responding to the madness hidden behind the Southern Devil's laughter. The green light from the Gatekeeper's lantern swayed wildly, lengthening Zhi Xuan's shadow on the prison wall until it looked like a giant silhouette poised to swallow the darkness itself.

  "Strength?" Zhi Xuan lowered his hand slowly, revealing sapphire eyes that now glowed with a cold glint capable of freezing marrow. "Four hundred years of cultivation, blood has never left my path, treading upon the bones of living beings, only to doubt the existence of Reincarnation."

  "You talk of strength," Zhi Xuan continued, his voice now as low as the hiss of a snake behind eternal snows. "To the inhabitants of ivory towers like you, strength may be a neat order of essence or a harmonious understanding of the Dao. But to me, strength is the ability to stay standing when the Heavens themselves try to break your back. If I must depend on that girl's essence to survive, then it is a debt I will pay. But if you consider it a weakness... then you have never felt what it is like to crawl out of the abyss of death with broken fingernails."

  The Gatekeeper of the Nine Solitudes was stunned. The lantern in his hand vibrated slightly, not out of fear, but because of the resonance of a will so wild and unsubmissive to any law. "Seeking Reincarnation in a puddle of blood... you are something dangerous, Gu Fengyan."

  "Reincarnation." Zhi Xuan reached for the Heavenly Sword, plucking it from the stone floor with a single jerk that created a spiritual spark. "I do not seek a return to life. I will continue to rise whenever I am gone. In my life, there is only one conviction: that I will keep walking—not to arrive, but because I will keep walking."

  "Walking not to arrive..." The Gatekeeper murmured, his voice like dust blown by the wind in a forgotten temple. "Your conviction is a double-edged sword, young man. It can cleave fate, but it can also cleave your soul into fragments that can never be unified again."

  The grey-robed figure slowly retreated, his shadow fading into the opacity of the prison corridor. "Then enjoy the rest of your night here. The Nine Solitudes will give you what you ask for: a road without end. We shall see if you keep walking when your feet are no longer flesh, but only the painful remnants of memory."