The night air was thick, heavy with a silence that pressed down on Li Wei's shoulders like a weight he couldn't shake. The lifeless bodies of Chen Feng's disciples lay crumpled at his feet, their souls bound by Azrael's dark arts, the shadows swirling around them as if the night itself had claimed them. Li Wei's heart pounded in his chest, not from the exertion of the fight, but from the creeping realization of what he had allowed to happen.
The disciples had been sent to kill him. He knew that. But something within him recoiled at the sight of their hollow eyes, now puppets of Azrael's will. They were no longer human, just tools—shadows of their former selves.
"It wasn't supposed to go this way," he thought bitterly. His hands trembled as the weight of the deaths pressed down on him, the reality of the power he had unleashed sinking in.
Azrael's voice stirred within his mind, as calm and controlled as always. "Thou must discard such weakness, Li Wei. These men were naught but obstacles in our path. They served their purpose, and now, they serve again."
Li Wei closed his eyes, trying to steady his breath. "I didn't want to kill them. I didn't want any of this."
Azrael's presence filled his mind, the ancient necromancer's tone laced with faint amusement. "Their deaths were inevitable, Li Wei. This sect is built on strength, and those without it are nothing but fodder. The Shadow Moon Sect cares not for its outer disciples—those who are weak are sacrificed, and those who are strong survive. Thou must embrace this truth, or thou shalt perish."
Li Wei knew Azrael was right. The sect had always been ruthless. The deaths of Meng Zhi and these three disciples would be seen as nothing more than the consequences of their weakness. Outer sect disciples were expendable, their lives meant to be tested, broken, or discarded. In the eyes of the elders, nothing would change. No one would mourn them.
As Li Wei's thoughts churned with guilt, Azrael's presence flared within him, urging him forward. "Their souls, though weak, hold power. With each soul bound to us, we grow stronger. Now is not the time for hesitation."
Li Wei turned his gaze toward the fallen disciples, their bodies unmoving. He could feel the faint echo of their souls trapped within Azrael's web of control. Their life force was now his to wield, but it came at a price. Azrael's power thrived on death, and each time he raised a soul, part of it was consumed by the necromancer to fuel their shared strength.
"Observe," Azrael murmured, and with a flicker of dark energy, the souls of the three disciples began to dissolve into tendrils of shadow, spiraling toward Azrael's core. Li Wei felt it—the rush of power as Azrael absorbed part of their essence, consuming it to strengthen their bond, to push them further toward the next realm of cultivation.
It was a slow process, deliberate and calculated. The remnants of each soul were devoured, their energy feeding into Azrael, enhancing his presence within Li Wei. The surge of power washed over them both, making Li Wei's meridians pulse with dark energy. Azrael, ever the ancient force of dominance, took the majority, but Li Wei could feel the residue of that power strengthening his own qi.
"With each soul I consume, we ascend closer to the next realm," Azrael intoned, his voice a whisper of ancient wisdom. "Do not fight this, Li Wei. Thou hast already chosen this path. There is no turning back now."
Li Wei's stomach twisted at the sensation, but he knew resisting Azrael's will would be futile. He could feel the cultivation barriers in his body beginning to weaken, the accumulated power from the souls pushing him ever closer to the breakthrough he sought. The necromancer's dark arts were accelerating his progress, but the price weighed heavily on his conscience.
Suddenly, a knock echoed through the courtyard gate, jolting him from his thoughts.
Li Wei's heart lurched. It couldn't be Chen Feng—he hadn't expected an immediate retaliation. But whoever it was couldn't see this—couldn't see the aftermath of the battle and the unnatural state of the corpses.
"Calm thyself," Azrael murmured with cold indifference. "We have company, but thou need not fear."
Taking a deep breath, Li Wei moved toward the gate, his thoughts still racing. When he opened it, Xiao Shuang stood before him, her gaze sharp and calculating, the faintest smile playing on her lips. She stepped into the courtyard, her eyes immediately drifting toward the bodies of the reanimated disciples.
"I must say, you've been busy," she commented with a casual air, her smile widening slightly as she surveyed the scene. "I heard rumors, but seeing it with my own eyes… Well, let's just say I'm impressed."
Li Wei stiffened, unsure how to respond. He could feel Azrael's presence watching, though not with the same urgency or wariness as before. Azrael wasn't concerned about Xiao Shuang. He could kill her in an instant if she became a threat. But Li Wei couldn't afford to underestimate her.
Xiao Shuang stepped closer, her eyes glinting with something darker than curiosity. "You've reached Grand Completion of the Shadow Veil Mantra, haven't you? Not many in the sect ever get that far." She glanced at the corpses, still standing in eerie silence. "I've seen the technique in action before, but not like this. Controlling three corpses at once—most disciples struggle to master even one."
The sect divided mastery of cultivation techniques into different stages—Initial Understanding, Basic Mastery, Peak Performance, and Grand Completion. Few disciples ever reached the final stage, where one's comprehension of the technique was complete, unlocking its full potential. That Li Wei had achieved Grand Completion of the Shadow Veil Mantra was no small feat, especially for an outer disciple like him.
But what Xiao Shuang didn't realize was that this was no ordinary shadow technique. What Azrael had done was something darker, more profound—true necromancy disguised as shadow control. And for now, the sect believed it was nothing more than Li Wei pushing the Shadow Veil Mantra to its full potential.
Xiao Shuang circled around him, her steps slow and deliberate. "You've come a long way, Li Wei. First Meng Zhi, and now this." She smiled, her voice softening as she leaned closer. "But you don't have to handle Chen Feng on your own, you know."
Li Wei felt a jolt of unease as she stepped even closer, her voice taking on a more seductive tone. "I can take care of him for you. No need for you to dirty your hands with all of this." She motioned to the corpses with a slight smirk. "Just one word from you, and Chen Feng will be nothing more than a bad memory."
Li Wei's heart raced. He knew Xiao Shuang was dangerous, ambitious. Her offer wasn't out of kindness—it was a game, a way for her to gain leverage. She was offering him an escape from Chen Feng, but at what cost? Could he trust her?
Azrael's voice, cold and dismissive, echoed in his mind. "Do not concern thyself with her schemes. She is but a fly. If she becomes troublesome, I will swat her from existence. Play along, if thou wish, but do not rely on her."
Li Wei swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay calm. "I appreciate the offer," he replied carefully, "but I can handle Chen Feng myself."
Xiao Shuang's eyes sparkled with amusement, though her smile held a predatory gleam. "You're sure? You've already done so much. It would be such a shame for all of this progress to go to waste if something happened to you."
Li Wei met her gaze steadily, refusing to back down. "I'm sure."
For a moment, Xiao Shuang stared at him, her smile never faltering, but the sharpness in her eyes betrayed her thoughts. She was calculating, assessing him, trying to figure out how far she could push.
Finally, she shrugged, stepping back into the shadows. "Very well," she said lightly. "But don't forget—you'll need allies in this sect, Li Wei. And you'll need people who can keep up with you." She gave him one last glance, her smile twisting slightly. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me."
And with that, she vanished into the night, leaving Li Wei standing alone in the courtyard, his heart still racing. The bodies of the disciples remained still, their hollow eyes staring into nothingness.
Azrael's voice broke the silence within him, as steady and cold as always. "She is dangerous, yes, but her ambitions may yet serve us. Keep her close, but trust her not. Should she become a nuisance, I will end her without hesitation."
Li Wei's gaze fell to the corpses at his feet. The souls Azrael had consumed had given him a glimpse of what this power could offer—strength, speed, the ability to break through cultivation barriers with terrifying ease. But at what cost? Each soul devoured brought him closer to the next realm, but it also gnawed away at his conscience, piece by piece.
"I didn't want this," he whispered to himself, the guilt rising again.
Azrael's voice responded, unwavering. "This is the path thou had chosen, Li Wei. Power comes with sacrifice. There is no turning back."
Li Wei's fists clenched as he stared at the reanimated corpses standing motionless before him. He could feel the faint echoes of their souls—what little remained of them—tethered to Azrael's will. The power he had tasted, the rush that had come with it, was intoxicating, but the hollowness that followed weighed down on him like a stone in his chest.
"I can't lose myself," Li Wei thought, trying to steady his breath. "I can't become like Azrael, like Chen Feng."
Azrael's presence flared slightly, sensing the conflict within his host. "Thou art already stronger than most in this wretched sect. But strength must be embraced, not feared. Thou must learn to wield it fully, or it will consume thee."
The remnants of the souls Azrael had devoured still coursed through Li Wei's body, pushing him ever closer to a breakthrough. His dantian hummed with a dark energy, his meridians swelling with power as they began to crack the barrier to the next stage of Qi Refinement. It was inevitable now. The souls he had taken, the battles he had fought, were all pushing him toward the next realm.
With a deep breath, Li Wei felt his core tighten, the energy surging through his body in a violent storm. His meridians pulsed with shadowy qi, and his dantian expanded, taking in more than it ever had before. The barrier that had been holding him at Qi Refinement Stage Five began to fracture, crumbling beneath the weight of the power Azrael had helped him amass.
Azrael's voice echoed in his mind, a whisper of triumph. "Let it flow, Li Wei. Let the darkness seep into every corner of thy being. The next stage is within reach. Do not resist."
Li Wei felt the surge, the irresistible force pushing against the barrier inside him. His entire body trembled as he guided the dark energy through his meridians, channeling it into his dantian, where it swirled and expanded with increasing intensity. The barrier cracked further, until finally, with a burst of power, it shattered completely.
In that moment, Li Wei broke through to Qi Refinement Stage Six.
The power flooded through him, overwhelming in its strength, his body vibrating with the raw energy of his breakthrough. His senses sharpened, his control over the shadows deepened, and his connection to the dark arts grew stronger. For a fleeting moment, he felt invincible.
But with that power came the weight of the souls that had fueled it. The energy that filled him was not entirely his own—it had come from those he had slain, those Azrael had consumed.
"This is what it takes," Li Wei thought, struggling to reconcile the power he now wielded with the guilt that clung to him.
Azrael's voice purred with satisfaction. "Well done, Li Wei. Thou hast broken through. Now, with this newfound strength, thou art one step closer to surpassing the likes of Chen Feng. The path to vengeance and power lies before us."
Li Wei steadied himself, his breathing heavy, as the storm of energy settled within him. His qi had grown stronger, his connection to the shadows deeper. But the victory felt hollow. The price of this power weighed heavily on his soul.
As the reanimated disciples stood silently in the courtyard, Li Wei looked at them with a mixture of revulsion and pity. They were nothing more than tools now, their once-burning ambition reduced to nothing by Azrael's necromancy. They had sought power under Chen Feng, just as he sought it now. But what had it gotten them? An existence as hollow puppets, their souls devoured.
"Is this what I'm becoming?" he wondered, his heart sinking.
Azrael, sensing Li Wei's doubt, spoke once more, his voice cool and unwavering. "Thou hast done well, but the path of power is not for the faint of heart. Thou must decide—wilt thou wield the strength we have gained to rise in this sect, or wilt thou falter under the weight of thy misguided morality?"
Li Wei's mind swirled with conflicting emotions. He had made progress—he was stronger now than he had ever been. But the cost, the darkness that came with it, was suffocating.
"I don't want to lose myself," he thought again, the doubt gnawing at him.
Azrael's presence flared slightly, his ancient wisdom filling the silence. "Then thou must learn to balance the two. Power and restraint. Mercy and strength. But know this, Li Wei—there will come a time when thou must choose. Mercy hath no place in the world we seek to conquer."
Li Wei stared at the moonlit courtyard, the shadows flickering at the edges of his vision. The journey ahead was long, and the price of his power would only grow heavier. But for now, he had broken through. He was stronger.
And Chen Feng, the one who had tormented him for so long, would soon face the consequences.
But at what cost to his own soul?
As the night deepened, Li Wei turned away from the reanimated corpses, the power of his breakthrough still coursing through him. He would move forward—he had to. The path of cultivation, of vengeance, was a dark one, but it was the only way he knew.