'I can't claim the master for myself… I must help him reach all his ambitions,' Jiang Chuchu resolved, swallowing her discontent.
With practiced grace, she withdrew a vial of shimmering pink liquid from her sleeve. "Master," she offered cautiously, "shall I give her this? Or perhaps, I could arrange for her to be… delivered to you directly?"
There was a subtle intent in her words, a promise that she would ensure Sun Lingxi's compliance—whether through poison or deceit.
Sun Liang turned to her, a soft smile playing on his lips. He shook his head slowly, his gaze distant. "There's no need for that," he said, his voice gentle but carrying finality. "To enslave someone's soul is to bind yourself to them. And when those chains break, they will know your weaknesses better than anyone."
His gaze shifted to the distant mountains, his thoughts already elsewhere. "The Immortal Cloud Continent is already mine. She has no escape," he said, his voice filled with quiet certainty. "The time will come when she realizes there is no sanctuary left for her—but I will not rush it."
Though his words were calm, his mind was far from idle.
There was still the matter of the ancient spirit guarding Sun Lingxi.
It was not yet time to provoke it—information was needed first.
Patience, he had learned, was often the deadliest weapon.
Jiang Chuchu, ever obedient, nodded.
The pink elixir vanished back into the folds of her sleeve, and the two continued their walk in silence, their footfalls light against the stone path.
_____
The next day, clans and minor powers flooded the Sun Dynasty's palace, desperate to secure Sun Liang's favor and avoid being crushed beneath his growing empire.
Fear had driven them there, fear of sharing the fate of those who had opposed him.
His control over the Immortal Cloud Continent tightened with each passing day.
Fifty years of meticulous scheming had led to this. Ever since Sun Liang had awakened his 'Devil Heart', the wheels had been set in motion.
Few knew the full depth of his ambition, and fewer still could comprehend it.
Standing alone on his private balcony, his black robes billowing in the night wind, Sun Liang gazed out over his dominion.
The stars glittered above, but his eyes were fixed on a point far beyond the horizon.
"Unrivaled Immortal Dynasty…" he murmured, the name bitter on his tongue. "One day, you will fall. And when you do, Gu Xian will have his revenge..." His voice was cold, an echo of the vengeance burning inside him, sharper than any blade.
He turned to leave, but another figure stood on the balcony, still as a statue.
The air around him seemed to freeze, a presence so imposing that even the stars seemed to dim.
It was the 'Immortal Emperor'—once feared across the entire continent. But the figure now was no longer a ruler. His once-piercing eyes were now empty sockets, devoid of life.
A chained sun glowed faintly on his forehead, a mark of his enslavement.
The world believed the Immortal Emperor was in seclusion, preparing for a legendary breakthrough. The truth, however, was far darker. He had been struck down during his attempt, betrayed from within.
His corpse, reanimated by Sun Liang, now stood as a puppet, a mere shadow of the man who once commanded the very laws of nature.
The immortal who had once ruled the continent with unchallenged might now answered only to his son, the true puppet master. Sun Liang had done it all, binding his father's body in chains of soul manipulation, a fate worse than death.
As the wind howled across the palace, Sun Liang turned his gaze back to the distant mountains, his mind already plotting his next move.
And behind him, the hollowed shell of the Immortal Emperor remained, silent and still—nothing more than another pawn in the empire of the Devil.
________
Back in Time!
As Sun Liang and the rest vanished into the distance, leaving Storm Peak Mountain engulfed in sea of blood, a shadow silently materialized beside the fallen body of Su Xiaobai. His back was pinned to the scorched earth by a dozen arrows, blood trickling into the charred soil.
Snap! Snap! Snap!
With a flick of his wrist, the arrows lodged in Su Xiaobai's body shattered. The figure crouched beside him, his eyes gleaming with a sinister interest as he inspected the broken form.
"Interesting…" he muttered, his fingers brushing the bloodstained ground. "The Demonic Veins stir only at death's edge… could this be the trigger?"
A low, dark laugh echoed around him.
"Kekeke... nothing more than a sacrificial offering, boy," cackled Old Man Ning, the same man who once crossed paths with Su Xiaobai in the Heavenly Prison.
Unbeknownst to Su Xiaobai, Ning Gufan had been no ordinary prisoner.
He had entered this lower realm after a tragedy in the higher planes, his veins poisoned, his strength crippled — Despite his best efforts, his attempts at healing had failed, and he was reduced to hiding, searching for a host whose power could mend his damaged 'Immortal Evil Veins'.
The arrival of Su Xiaobai had been a stroke of luck.
Fifty-six Profound Yin Veins, demonic in nature. Su Xiaobai's rare bloodline had stirred briefly during his 'first' bloodline awakening ceremony when he touched the 'Immortal Tianlong spirit', but its true potential remained locked, waiting for the right trigger.
Ning Gufan's eyes sparkled with delight as he studied the young man's broken body. "With your Demonic Veins, I can repair my own Immortal Evil Veins. It won't restore my full power, but it will keep this broken vessel alive for much longer."
He hovered over Su Xiaobai's chest, his hands poised to extract the potent demonic energy within. Su Xiaobai's fate was of no concern to him; the boy was already on death's doorstep.
"To defy destiny, you need strength beyond limits," Ning murmured to himself, the winds of Storm Peak howling as if to agree. "Only supreme power can control fate."
With careful precision, Ning wrapped Su Xiaobai's lifeless body in a dark cloth, placing him within an ancient coffin lined with cursed iron. Chains snapped into place, sealing the coffin.
For a moment, Ning stood there, taking in the scent of death and burnt wood.
With one final glance at the flames roaring over Storm Peak, he vanished into the shadows, dragging the coffin into the depths of the forest.
Later, Sun Liang's followers returned, torching the entire mountain range to the ground.
The flames devoured every trace of the battlefield, leaving nothing but ashes.
Villages and cities along the way burned, the perfect scapegoats for Sun Liang's grand plan—blaming it all on the Azure Dragon Clan.