After the two servants from the Ku Mountain Sect disappeared from view, Yan Zheng picked up a long blade from the pile of corpses and with a swift strike, separated Chai Xin's head from his body.

Blood slowly trickled out from the severed neck. Yan Zheng grabbed the head by its dry white hair, holding it in his hand as he turned towards the direction of the Vermilion Tower.

Chai Xin's head hung with half-open eyes, drops of foul blood splattering onto the stone slabs. Yan Zheng's stance, holding the severed head, bore a sixty to seventy percent resemblance to Yan Budu from years past. However, his aura was too calm, a deathly stillness like a dying fire.

"Go ahead and go down the mountain," Yan Zheng said to Yu Zikuan with his back turned, his tone unnaturally cold. "No need to specially confirm, I won't run away."

Yu Zikuan furrowed his brows, remaining silent.

"In the six years we've known each other, when have I ever gone back on my word?" Yan Zheng stopped in his tracks, still not turning around. "You and I are like ants breaching a dam. I have already killed off the talented individuals one by one. This time, I will bring back Chai Xin's head, recall the elders from outside the mountain, and no one will stand in the way anymore. Before sunset, the main altar of the Ling Sect will be destroyed. You can just watch from outside the mountain."

"What about you?" Yu Zikuan finally spoke.

Yan Zheng didn't directly answer, a barely detectable tremor in his voice: "There are still quite a few scattered sects on the mountain that haven't withdrawn. Rather than dawdling here, Hero Yu has more important things to do."

Chai Xin hadn't taken all his people with him. If he recalled everyone, then left by himself first, that group would definitely become suspicious. Moreover, there was one thing Chai Xin was right about - in the past eight years, for the blood debts the Ling Sect had incurred under the banner of being the "Yan family's descendant", he couldn't escape the blame.

With the Deity Summoning Formation activated, he would use his own strength to bury the Ling Sect's main altar along with himself. Settling things like this was pretty good too.

"In the past two days, there was news from Ling Sect scouts that a small sect is stationed southwest of Mount Zongwu. They don't interact with other sects, so they probably haven't received the news yet. Time is running out, I still hope Hero Yu can lead them down the mountain."

Yu Zikuan gazed at him steadily for a while before letting out an "mm" sound.

Yan Zheng used his red robes to cover his injuries all over his body and took off with the wind, not bidding farewell to Yu Zikuan. Yu Zikuan stood there for a while until Yan Zheng's figure disappeared into the mist before turning to leave.

There were still quite a few people left in the Vermilion Tower, most of them good-for-nothings without much fighting strength. Seeing the current sect leader appear holding the previous sect leader's head, everyone held their breath, not daring to even fart. A few old fellows who disliked Chai Xin were all smiles. Yan Zheng could guess what they were thinking.

With Chai Xin dead and himself only in his early twenties, this group of old things had probably already started re-dividing power in their minds.

Yan Zheng cleared his throat: "Chai Xin wanted to monopolize the clues to the Shi Rou, so he specially used the Ku Mountain Sect to release false information. I got the upper hand, but he actually tried to kill me."

Having been steeped in the demonic sect for many years, whether it was lies or nonsense, Yan Zheng could spout them off with ease.

Sure enough, the hall below instantly erupted with curses. The Ling Sect revered only strength, things like "personal connections and feelings" had never existed. Now, the previously invincible Elder Chai was reduced to just a head. Even if he told them to kick it around like a ball, this group of people could do it.

That Elder Kong who liked men squeezed his eyes, his tone especially joyful: "That Chai Xin lured all the major sects out of the mountain, using them as bait for himself, what a vicious scheme!"

"Now that the sect leader has the clues, the Red Hook Sect will definitely covet them. Better to call the brothers back to guard the Vermilion Tower," someone chimed in as expected.

"If we withdraw, won't the other sects become suspicious?"

"Who cares, Mount Zongwu is easy to defend and hard to attack, it's better than being worn down..."

Yan Zheng sat on the sect leader's chair, his injuries all over his body so painful they felt a bit numb. Blood had soaked through his inner robes under the outer one. Chai Xin's head lay askew by his feet, the fragrance of wine still permeating below, mixed with laughter and merriment.

He couldn't hold back the mockery in his smile: "Exactly, call all the brothers back. Once everyone is here, I have an important announcement. Chai Xin is dead, the positions of the elders need to be re-determined."

Another burst of miscellaneous cheers rose up in the hall, mixed with roars and strange laughter. Seeing the messenger disciples set off, Yan Zheng didn't bother bandaging his wounds. He stepped on Chai Xin's head with his foot, holding a wine flask in his hand, coldly watching the chaos unfold below.

This was the first time the "monkeys" making a ruckus in front of him didn't make him despair.

Blood flowed out at a leisurely pace, the clamor by his ears blurring into a haze. Yan Zheng's face was pale as he looked towards the Vermilion Tower's windows where light shone through. The mist outside hadn't dissipated, he could only see the vague, oppressive mountain shadows.

He wondered if Yu Zikuan had left yet.

The wine in his throat was slightly bitter, the severed head at his feet reeked. Only at this moment did Yan Zheng hazily realize that "everything was about to end".

What a long six years it had been.

When he found out back then that Chai Xin was the one pulling the strings behind the scenes, Yan Zheng had thought of simpler ways for revenge. He poisoned, assassinated, ambushed again and again. But Chai Xin had lived too long amidst the undercurrents of the demonic sect. In his eyes, the murderous intent of a fifteen-year-old was no different from a kitten's scratches.

Chai Xin would even praise Yan Zheng a few times: "Not bad, coveting power at such a young age, you're starting to seem like one of the demonic sect."

Yan Zheng had also tried developing his own forces, but he didn't understand using threats and enticements, and the people in the demonic sect all had abnormal minds. He exhausted all his efforts for the greater part of a year, but in the end, he was still out of options. The enemy was clearly within reach, but he couldn't kill him no matter what. Besides being a good puppet sect leader, he seemed to have no other choice.

It was during this half a year that news of the "Ling Sect gaining a ghost-eyed sect leader" gradually spread. The sect's branches in various places developed extremely quickly, the number of people dying at the Ling Sect's hands doubled. The Ling Sect, which had been showing all signs of decline, gradually emitted a sense of rising from the ashes.

So Yan Zheng thought of dying.

Dying and smashing the Ling Sect's "Yan family descendant" claim. This was the final counterattack he could muster, and also his only remaining path to redemption.

That day, the Ling Sect's branch recaptured territory in the northwest and the disciples celebrated extensively, torturing and killing commoners in the hall for amusement. The lights in the Vermilion Tower flickered, the paint on the beams not yet dry before being dotted with fresh blood. At that time, the Vermilion Tower was in orderly shape. Yan Zheng mixed in with the corpse cart, only then quietly leaving the tower.

He had to die in a conspicuous place, like the entrance to Mount Zongwu.

Who knew, before Yan Zheng reached his destination, a long arrow came whistling through the air, mercilessly piercing his shoulder. Caught off guard, Yan Zheng was still in a daze when the glinting sword tip pressed against his throat.

"Indeed the little bastard of the Yan family." That person's eyes were blood-red, filled with hatred. "I've been following for so long, but I didn't expect it to be so effortless in the end."

Yan Zheng, seeing the other person's Taiheng attire covered in dust, instantly understood the situation. This wasn't bad - being killed by a Taiheng member would make the news spread faster.

Yan Zheng didn't cry out in pain or anger. He sat on the ground obediently, covering his arrow wound without making a sound.

The person's movements paused for a moment. "Before I take your dog's life, I have something to ask. Is that Lu Fengxi of your sect currently at the main branch? How long will he stay in Zongwu Mountain?"

"I can tell you, but on one condition."

The person sneered coldly. "If you want to beg for mercy—"

"I hope you'll make it quick." Yan Zheng looked at the damp soil under his knees. "You can dispose of my corpse as you wish. Even if you hang it under Zongwu Mountain, I won't hold any grudges."

The person looked at him suspiciously for a while, then withdrew the sword tip. "Speak."

"Might you be the great hero Yu Zikuan? In recent years, the only Taiheng-related people Lu Fengxi has killed are Taiheng Sect's Yu Zikuan's wife, Madam He, and their only son, Yu Qiuwen."

"...That's right." Yu Zikuan said hoarsely, "For a little puppet, you know quite a lot."

"Lu Fengxi is repairing weapons at the main branch and will stay for about ten days. The craftsmanship of that staff is complex, so he must personally go down the mountain to select materials. If you want to make a move, you can do it when he leaves the mountain."

Having said that, Yan Zheng closed his eyes, revealing a hint of relief.

"I've told you what you wanted to know. Now it's time for you to keep your promise."

Taiheng's Elder Yu was known for his clear-cut love and hatred. With his wife and child brutally killed, this person had stirred up quite a commotion in the jianghu. Now, Yu Zikuan seemed half-crazed, having lost most of his rationality. He certainly wouldn't hesitate just because of Yan Zheng's young age.

It was heaven's will.

The other party moved slightly, his boot soles grinding against the soil, making a faint sound. But in the next instant, the pain didn't originate from his neck or chest, but assaulted him from his scalp - Yu Zikuan grabbed his long hair, forcing Yan Zheng to stand up.

"I don't know why you want to die, and I'm not interested in the internal strife of the demon sect." Yu Zikuan sneered coldly, "But you are, after all, the Ghost-eyed descendant of the Yan family. Simply dying would be a bit of a waste."

Yan Zheng opened his eyes and looked at him expressionlessly.

Yu Zikuan's expression was slightly ferocious. "Boy, you're already at the point of wanting to die. It seems you don't really like the Ling Sect. Since you're going to die anyway, why not let me make use of you?"

"I don't have much use." Yan Zheng said softly, "As you said, I'm just a puppet."

"You're just a half-grown child, naturally no match for a group of old madmen. The art of power and the art of reading people, I'll teach you. With the two of us working together, it's not an exaggeration to say we can topple the Ling Sect."

"You trust me?" There was a hint of mockery in Yan Zheng's words.

Yu Zikuan snorted with a laugh and took out a pill from his bosom, pressing it into Yan Zheng's throat. "This is a blood gu from the Gu Tower. I originally wanted to use it on Lu Fengxi. Now it seems more suitable to feed it to you."

Yan Zheng obediently swallowed it. Not only did he not vomit, his eyes gradually brightened.

"You really want to teach me?" Yan Zheng grabbed Yu Zikuan's dirty sleeve. "You really want to join hands with me to destroy the Ling Sect?"

"The Ling Sect is a malignant tumor in the wulin. Killing only Lu Fengxi, how could I face my deceased wife and child?"

"...But I don't trust you either." Yan Zheng murmured, "Before the Ling Sect is destroyed, you're not allowed to kill Lu Fengxi. If you kill Lu Fengxi and leave early, I won't take the antidote to the blood gu."

"It's a deal."

Sure enough, even the heavens detest the Ling Sect, Yan Zheng thought to himself.

With him and Yu Zikuan working together, and Chai Xin being shortsighted, he allowed Yan Zheng to kill potential "competitors". As the years passed, the Ling Sect was unable to prosper. The strength of those two years turned into a final radiance before decline, and it once again stepped onto the path of irreversible decay.

Cooperating with members of the demon sect was a great taboo for Taiheng Sect. Yu Zikuan simply faked his death and went into seclusion on the Zongwu Mountain. Yan Zheng personally delivered daily necessities to him, and even Yueshui Bureau couldn't discover Yu Zikuan's whereabouts.

At first, Yu Zikuan taught Yan Zheng the art of power and reading people. Other than that, the two of them didn't say a word to each other.

Later, perhaps out of boredom on the mountain, Yu Zikuan began teaching him Taiheng Sect's breathing techniques and the weaknesses of the Ling Sect's martial arts.

Even later, perhaps unable to stand by and watch, Yu Zikuan also taught him how to tie his own hair, how to deal with the annoying bloodiness in the demon sect, and how to barely maintain breathing under the weight of fate.

"If it really becomes unbearable, come talk to me. Occasionally relying on elders is not something shameful."

"Don't think about this and that, needlessly dragging yourself down. You and I have a good goal - to uproot the Ling Sect, which can certainly be considered atonement."

"...Boy, if you must hold accountable all the people who died over these years, then I'll have to take half the blame too. We're both guilty, alright?"

In the end, this was what Yu Zikuan said.

The huge Vermilion Tower made Yan Zheng feel like he was treading on thin ice, but that small thatched hut could give him a moment of relief. In that desolate mountain, amidst the fog overflowing with madness, Yan Zheng actually found a hint of the stable life from his childhood. "Living in this world" seemed to no longer be pure suffering and torment.

The abyss of ten thousand zhang behind him now had a railing. He no longer needed to walk alone in the darkness.

Compared to when they first met, Yu Zikuan's madness had also faded quite a bit, his towering hatred turning into steady persistence. So Yan Zheng sent Lu Fengxi to the Ghost Tomb, hoping that with his blood feud settled, Yu Zikuan would see the matter of destroying the sect a bit more lightly.

Yu Zikuan was no longer as crazed as before and could definitely see that the Ling Sect only had its last breath left. Withdrawing in time would be best.

Unfortunately, Taiheng Sect's people were stubborn to the bone. Not only did Yu Zikuan not leave, he even handed over the antidote to the blood gu to Yan Zheng without a word of complaint.

"With this, we're even." Elder Yu clicked his tongue and shook his head.

But the ending could be considered perfect, Yan Zheng sighed lightly. Just now, when talking with Yu Zikuan, as soon as he touched upon the concern in the other party's words, the remaining weakness couldn't help but burst out. Yan Zheng almost wavered -

He almost wanted to live.

Fortunately, the deep pain had accompanied him for many years. Just a hint of soft attachment could be dispersed with a single blow. Yu Zikuan hadn't been tainted by the blood of the innocent and naturally should live. But he himself was at the center of the black vortex and had long lost the right.

The fog was dyed gray-red by the setting sun. Finally, there was a loud boom in Yan Zheng's ears. Perhaps "boom" wasn't accurate enough. That sound skipped his ears and directly blasted into his brain marrow. An unfamiliar fear surged up from the soles of his feet. Yan Zheng couldn't help but shudder.

This kind of power... was probably that Deity Summoning Formation.

The moment the formation activated, the surrounding air suddenly became several times more viscous, firmly pressing Yan Zheng's entire body into the chair. Inside the formation, his whole body erupted in needle-like pain, accompanied by an empty coldness.

Winter had passed, yet the current sensation felt like standing naked in the harsh winter snow, as if being crushed between millstones. His internal organs convulsed, his heart pounded wildly, and his limbs were completely unresponsive. The earth trembled slightly as Chai Xin's head rolled down the steps and into the panicked crowd.

Gathered here were the cruelest and most arrogant madmen in all of Dayun. They usually regarded human lives as worthless, but now they all knelt on the ground, emitting inaudible screams and wails before death.

Yan Zheng's vision turned black in waves, but the smile on the corner of his mouth grew wider and wider.

...This time it was truly over, he closed his eyes.

This was the moment he had longed for the most, but it was different from what Yan Zheng had always imagined. At the very end, he unexpectedly harbored a faint feeling of concern. With the destruction of the Ling Sect, that person could also untie the knot in his heart and move forward.

Unexpectedly, in the next moment, Yan Zheng felt a long-lost pain on his scalp—a pair of hands grabbed his long hair, forcing him to stand up.

"That's about enough." That familiar voice said hoarsely, "Kid, let's run."

Below Zongwu Mountain.

As the sun set in the west, the originally chaotic sects all froze in place.

The eerie golden Yang fire cage of the Ku Mountain Sect was still up, with the "caged birds" now numbering four. Apart from Shen Zhu who didn't want to get close to the bloody scene, the four members of the Ku Mountain Sect stood at the center of the formation.

The major figures of the Ling Sect had retreated early, and the Red Hook Sect hadn't left many people behind either. Taiheng Sect had no intention of fighting from the start, so the scene had long become a gathering of minions.

With the changes on the mountain, no one was in the mood to approach the Ku Mountain Sect this time.

The Ling Sect's Fog Tomb Formation had not been lifted, making that strange sight particularly obvious—it was as if some invisible giant creature was reaching out from within the mountain, its movements like an agile long tongue, sweeping across the vast Zongwu Mountain.

As far as the eye could see, all the fog was stirred into a chaotic mess. Layers upon layers of thick fog were like tidal waves in a storm, forced to rise into bizarre shapes.

Some Ling Sect members were still retreating up the mountain, but within a few dozen steps, everyone watched helplessly as they knelt on the ground, struggling in pain and weakness, much like desperate flying insects caught in a spider's web.

Although at different speeds, the Ling Sect disciples were all gradually shriveling up, as if something was sucking them dry. A few servants had even collapsed to the ground, their bodies as shriveled as dried corpses. Before long, their corpses, like ice cubes on a furnace, slowly shriveled, twisted, flattened and shrank, turning into a tattered human skin rug.

Eventually disappearing into nothingness.