The iron token from Elder Ming was cold and heavy in Kai's hand, a key to a world hidden in plain sight. The next morning, he returned to the Grand Library, but this time he walked past the spiralling shelves of the main hall, past the curious stares of his fellow disciples, and toward a severe-looking archway at the rear of the building. It was guarded by two stern-faced sect protectors and a shimmering barrier of Qi that rippled like heat haze.
Kai presented the token. One of the guards examined it, his expression unreadable, before pressing it against the barrier. The shimmering energy parted with a soft hiss, granting him entry.
The atmosphere inside the restricted archives was immediately different. The air was cool and still, thick with the scent of ancient parchment, dried ink, and the faint, sharp tang of ozone from the protective formations. While the main library felt like a living repository of knowledge, this place felt like a tomb. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the soft rustle of Kai's own robes. The knowledge here wasn't just stored; it was imprisoned.
Using the sect's cataloguing system, Kai began his search. He bypassed the potent offensive and defensive techniques for now. He needed to understand the fundamental theory, the core philosophies that the sect deemed too dangerous for the masses. It was in a dusty, leather-bound volume titled On the Divergence of the Dao that he found what he was looking for.
The text was a philosophical treatise, written by one of the sect's founding patriarchs. It described not one, but three distinct paths of cultivation.
The first was the Orthodox Path, the one practiced by the Verdant Peak Sect and its allies. The book described it as the path of harmony, of drawing power from the world by aligning oneself with its positive currents. It was an emotion-based cultivation, fueled by compassion, righteousness, and a deep connection to one's own humanity. The stronger one's positive emotional core, the purer and more potent their Qi. This was the "Heart Cultivation" he had read about, the very foundation of the orthodox world.
The second was the Demonic Path, the way of the sect's sworn enemies. The text portrayed it as a parasitic, corrupting force. It was a sacrifice-based cultivation. A demonic cultivator did not harmonize with the world; they tore power from it. They sacrificed their own emotions, the lives of others, or even parts of their own soul in exchange for rapid, explosive bursts of strength. It was a shortcut to power, but one that inevitably led to madness and self-destruction.
The third path was an almost mythical concept: the Ancient Path. The text was vague, referring to it as the path of balance. It was said to predate the Orthodox-Demonic schism, a method that acknowledged both the light and the dark within a cultivator. It sought not to suppress emotion or to sacrifice it, but to integrate all aspects of the self—positive and negative—into a unified whole. According to the patriarch, the Ancient Path was a beautiful but impossibly difficult ideal, and had become functionally extinct after the devastating Great War thousands of years ago, its practitioners wiped out and its teachings lost to time.
Kai sat back in the profound silence of the archive, the book open on the heavy oak table before him. The Orthodox Path was a door that was closing to him. The Demonic Path was a seductive poison. But the Ancient Path… it resonated with him on a level he couldn't explain.
"Extinct, is it?" Azrakoth's voice purred in his mind, dripping with smug amusement. "These fools are so blinded by their own dogma they cannot see what is right in front of them."
"What do you mean?" Kai projected inwardly, his focus unwavering.
"They believe the path is a set of teachings, a series of scrolls to be followed. They are wrong. The Ancient Path is not a method to be learned; it is a state of being to be created," Azrakoth explained. "Think, Kai. What are we doing? We are not following the Orthodox Path; I am consuming the very emotions it requires. We are not following the Demonic Path; you are not sacrificing your soul or the lives of others, merely your capacity to feel. We are forging something new from the wreckage of the old."
The revelation struck Kai with the force of a physical blow.
"The Ancient Path is what we are creating," the demon declared. "It is the ultimate hybrid. Your human body, with its innate connection to the world's Qi, combined with my demonic essence. Your opened meridians, a gift of our pact, allow you to process energy in a way no human can. Your emotional sacrifice is the catalyst that breaks the rules of both paths. You are not a human cultivator. You are not a demon. You are becoming the first true practitioner of the Ancient Path in millennia."
Kai finally understood. His unique condition wasn't a handicap or a corruption; it was the key. Because he lacked the emotional core of the Orthodox, he was not bound by their rules of purity. Because he was not a true demon, he was not susceptible to the madness that came from their methods of sacrifice. He could stand in the middle, a bridge between two warring philosophies, and draw strength from both. He could absorb techniques from all three paths without conflict.
A cold, thrilling sense of purpose washed over him. He was not just a survivor anymore. He was a pioneer on a fractured, forgotten path to unprecedented power.
He spent the next few hours in a fever of practical research, pulling scrolls from both orthodox and demonic archives. He found a secluded corner of the library and began to experiment, not with his body, but with the flow of Qi in his mind.
He took Yun Xiu's Flowing Water Defense—a pinnacle of Orthodox defensive theory—and began to infuse it with the principles of aggression he'd read about in a demonic text on "Qi Cannibalism." The orthodox form was about yielding, redirecting, and dissipating. The demonic principle was about devouring, corrupting, and destroying.
He mentally combined them. The result was a hybrid technique of terrifying potential. It began with the soft, yielding posture of the Flowing Water Defense, appearing entirely passive. But at the moment of contact, instead of merely redirecting the opponent's force, the technique would latch onto their Qi, creating a parasitic link. It would then use their own momentum to fuel a counter-strike, not just returning their power but twisting it, corrupting it, and driving it back into their own meridians with lethal, explosive force.
He named it the "Serpent's Coil." It appeared to be a shield, but it was, in fact, a trap designed to make the opponent's own strength their undoing.
He was so engrossed in his work that he almost missed it. A subtle shift in the air, a faint disturbance in the Qi currents behind a towering shelf of scrolls twenty paces away. It was a flicker of awareness, an enhanced perception that was a gift of his recent advancement to the eighth stage. Someone was watching him.
He didn't turn. He didn't react. He instantly knew who it was. Liu Yan.
From her concealed position, Liu Yan watched with growing alarm. She had followed Kai to the library, her suspicions from the duel driving her to observe him further. Using a minor concealment talisman, she had shadowed him into the restricted archives, her heart pounding. His access alone was a major red flag.
She noted his reading choices with meticulous care. He wasn't just browsing powerful techniques. He was consuming histories of the Great War, detailed analyses of the Demonic Schism, and, most damningly, a comparative study on Orthodox versus Demonic cultivation philosophies. This was not the research of a loyal sect disciple; it was the research of someone questioning their very allegiance, or worse, seeking to understand a power they already possessed.
Retreating to a safe distance, she pulled out a small, encrypted communication jade. She channeled her Qi into it, composing a short, precise report to her contact within the anti-demonic organization.
Subject K.C. has gained access to restricted archives. Research focuses on demonic history and cultivation theory. Behavior consistent with an individual attempting to understand or refine a non-orthodox power source. Recommend escalating investigation. He is moving too fast. He is too dangerous to be left unchecked.
The jade warmed in her hand a moment later with a reply.
Agreed. Your mission is now priority one. Get closer. Befriend him if you must. Gain his trust. We need definitive proof of his nature and the source of his power before we can act. Do not fail.
Liu Yan slipped the jade away, her expression grim. The mission had changed. Observation was no longer enough. She had to engage.
Kai, meanwhile, felt the subtle shift as her focus intensified. He could almost feel her gaze on the back of his neck. He didn't feel fear or anger. He felt a cold, exhilarating sense of challenge. She was a piece on the board, and she was making her move. It was time for his counter.
He began to play a double game. He carefully closed the demonic scrolls and slid them back into their slots, ensuring they were hidden from view. Then, with a "careless" sigh, he pulled out a thick, well-known orthodox text, The Principles of Qi Purity, and left it open on the table. He spent the next hour diligently studying it, even making a few notes on a spare piece of parchment, his posture one of frustrated concentration.
He was feeding her a narrative. He knew she would see his interest in demonic history as suspicious. Now, he would overlay it with the image of a disciple struggling with his own rapid advancement, desperately studying orthodox principles to keep himself from deviating. He would appear suspicious enough to keep her interested, but innocent enough to avoid any direct accusations.
He was a man walking a fractured path, and he would now ensure his observer only saw the side he wanted to reveal. The game of cat and mouse had begun, and Kai, for the first time, felt truly in his element.