In an instant, the dark abyss vanished… and Ren Zu emerged, floating gently above the clouds, enveloped by a clean, fresh breeze so pure it seemed to sing along the edges of the world.
The vast blue stretched as far as the eye could reach, and the sun touched his figure, highlighting its perfect contours.
He had changed his clothes.
His robes flowed around his body like layers of refined mist, woven in shades that shifted between pure white and a nearly silvery gray, with subtle details reminiscent of brushstrokes carefully applied by a patient artist. The fabric fell in long, harmonious lines, embracing his perfect silhouette without ever constraining it, as though the garments themselves were a natural extension of him—light, soft, yet majestic. The wide sleeves moved with the wind, and the dark belt marked his waist in an elegant contrast that only made his presence more imposing.
There, in the midst of the open sky, he seemed less like a man… and more like an immortal who had descended from the heavens to the mortal world.
Due to the enormous amount of diabolical energy from the darkness he had absorbed, his black hair had changed as well, growing even darker—deeper than shadow itself. It was long, lush, cascading down to the small of his back like a liquid waterfall of pure night. Each strand seemed alive, gliding with the breeze so smoothly and silkily that it resembled water flowing in slow motion. It formed a perfect contrast with the light surrounding his body: the sun illuminated the darkness of those strands and, rather than extinguishing it, made each lock shimmer with a delicate, almost hypnotic gleam.
His eyes had undergone a transformation as well—they remained completely black. Not an ordinary black, but an absolute absence of any color: deep, silent, infinite, like an eternal night in which no star had ever been born. They were so intense that anyone who dared stare into them for too long would feel the world itself tremble for a brief moment. Yet they were beautiful. Painfully beautiful. So exquisite that they would leave any mortal breathless, unable to look away.
His face was concealed by the white mask he had donned in place of the dark one to match his new attire; it covered the lower half up to his nose—simple, smooth, flawless—yet, paradoxically, it made him even more fascinating. That erased half only rendered the exposed part more seductive, more perfect, like a masterpiece deliberately left incomplete just to torment the eyes of anyone who beheld it.
His silhouette was harmonious in every detail: tall, elegant, perfectly proportioned, with a presence that blended softness and danger in equal measure. He looked like an immortal painting brought to life, with lines so flawless they defied realism. There was no flaw. There were no excesses. It was a silent grace that dominated the sky effortlessly.
Ren Zu lingered there for a few moments, allowing the wind to envelop his robes and play with his hair. He gazed down at the world below while extending his senses across the entire Azure Cloud Continent, using his mastery over Spatial Laws. Essentially, he merged his consciousness with "space" itself, expanding his perception to the point where he could effortlessly "see and feel" everything within the continent. Nothing could hide; every movement, every shift in energy, every life was a lit spark before his senses.
A simple trick, but extremely useful.
Especially considering his vast knowledge of rare herbs and medicinal items. In less than an instant, he located every common, rare, and profoundly rare herb scattered across the continent. Every ancestral root, every leaf hidden beneath layers of earth, every plant no one even imagined existed—all shone in his perception like tiny beacons.
With a single thought, his hand became enveloped in the profound art of the [Heavenly Will Crystal Body]. Immediately afterward, countless herbs were uprooted from their places without so much as swaying, teleported through his control of space and gently deposited inside his spatial ring.
Naturally, he left a seedling in place of every plant he harvested; he had no intention of exterminating the continent's resources. In a few years, everything would regrow.
Yet even while being "considerate," the damage was inevitable: he had essentially stolen resources that would have sustained entire generations of profound practitioners. Many of them would fall into decline in the coming years without ever understanding why.
However, since he was openly committing his first "villainous" act, he decided to go all the way. Without hesitation, he plundered all the treasures of the three strongest sects in the Azure Cloud Continent: the Heavenly Frustration Sect, the Divine Seven Stars Palace, and the Ascending Heavenly Sword Sect.
The resource vaults, protected by ancient formations and complex barriers, opened before him as if they were mere empty boxes. Every treasure vanished in the blink of an eye, torn from space and sent directly into his spatial ring.
In a short time, the accumulated volume became so absurd that he had to expand the ring itself through his dominion over space just to accommodate the veritable mountain of riches he was amassing.
He acquired countless profound weapons, a sea of rare and profoundly rare herbs, exotic items with specific effects, and—most valuable of all—practically the entire libraries of profound arts from the three sects. Ancient scrolls, forbidden manuscripts, incomplete techniques, lost arts… everything now belonged to him.
Ren Zu looked at the heavy ring on his hand and let out a calm, almost lazy smile.
"Hm. For a 'first villainous act,' I think I did pretty well."
Having finished that, he searched for the last thing he wanted in this place. It didn't take long to find it; his black eyes narrowed with a slow, almost lazy glint, yet laden with intent.
He tilted his face slightly eastward.
The breeze moved his hair like a veil of living night.
"At last, I've found you."
In the next instant, his figure vanished like a ghost, dissolving into the air without leaving a single trace.
There was no displacement of energy, no visible ripple in space—just a sudden absence, as if the world had swallowed him and spat him back out somewhere else.
He reappeared in the blink of an eye, floating several dozen meters above a simple cabin nestled among jagged mountains. The place was humble: weathered wood, a thatched roof, a small herb garden beside it. Around it, snow-capped peaks and dense forests whispered beneath the cold wind. A narrow trail wound downward to a nearby village where lanterns flickered like tiny stars settled on the ground.
By looking through "space" and ignoring the cabin's wooden walls in this way, he could see what was happening inside.
An ageless-looking elder leaned over a child lying on a makeshift bed. The exhausted peasant parents, their faces etched with worry, watched with bated breath. They had walked from the village carrying their feverish daughter in their arms, seeking the only miracle capable of saving her: the touch of the legendary Medicine Saint.
The air inside was thick with the scent of boiling herbs from a cauldron. The soft light filtering through the small windows rested upon the elder like an ethereal halo, making his presence even more imposing.
That man was Yun Gu, the Medicine Saint.
His long white beard fell like a cascade of freshly fallen snow, swaying lightly as he applied an herbal paste to the child's forehead. His thick, arched white eyebrows framed eyes as clear as spring water—deep, compassionate, filled with a serenity that seemed to operate beyond the mortal world. His white hair flowed down to the middle of his back, immaculate and silky, every strand perfectly in place. But what impressed most was his face: smooth, without a single wrinkle, as though time itself had bowed before him. His presence was gentle yet extraordinary—that of a celestial sage who had descended from the clouds solely to ease the suffering of others.
He wore simple robes of a nearly translucent light blue, and his movements were precise and tender; every gesture carried the grace of a silent blessing.
Decades earlier, Yun Gu had stumbled upon a medical scroll in forgotten ruins deep in the mountains. That scroll had guided his entire life. Even understanding only thirty percent of its contents, he had become a medical genius capable of defying the heavens: curing incurable diseases, prolonging lives on the brink of death, manipulating vital energies with a mastery bordering on the divine…
He had named the scroll the Heavenly Medicine Manual.
In another timeline, in another life, he would teach it to Yun Che, polishing the young man until he became his successor. In other words, Yun Gu was the master of the one many scornfully called "Scum Che."
One thing, however, truly astonished him.
Yun Gu's presence was so clean, so pure, so absurdly benevolent that it radiated like a white flame amid darkness. It was a kindness that no longer seemed human—tranquil, profound, unshakable, as if he had truly understood the path of a physician and possessed infinite compassion to heal all people.
And it was precisely that purity that left him stunned.
How could a man like this… have raised a walking disaster like Scum Che?
The mere memory of that individual's actions made Ren Zu frown. In his original timeline, Yun Che had massacred an entire clan; justified rape with excuses as absurd as they were convenient; pursued women relentlessly as if they were trophies; jumped from relationship to relationship without ever being satisfied; and instead of training, honoring any of the teachings he received, or the trillions of legacies he possessed, spent most of his time chasing "skirts."
It would almost be comical if it weren't tragic.
Yun Gu's kindness and his future disciple's character were so utterly opposed they seemed to exist in different universes.
Ren Zu let out a soft sigh.
"How could someone like that have been taught by you…?" he murmured, still intrigued.
Even without knowing the man personally—though the descriptions from the original story in his mind served as a foundation—he could tell with a single glance that this man possessed genuine kindness, a heart without stains…
In any case, that hardly mattered at the moment…
Through his expanded spatial sense, Ren Zu saw what had truly brought him here: the other half of the [Sky Poison Pearl].
Ren Zu crossed his arms while floating above the cabin, the soft light reflecting off the white mask covering his face. The surrounding snow returned that glow in an almost ethereal manner, as though he were a presence alien to the mortal world. His black eyes gleamed with lazy, calculated… dangerous interest.
"What should I do with you…?" he murmured, more to the void than to himself. "My plans for Scum Che could all go down the drain if someone like you exists… someone with medical knowledge on such a profound level. Should I simply kill you…?"
He tilted his head in a relaxed, almost casual manner, as if deciding between tea or coffee on a cold morning. Nothing in his posture suggested urgency. Nothing about him seemed burdened by guilt.
"Killing would be the simplest…" he continued, his voice low and velvety, barely passing through the mask. "And I'm technically in the 'right role' for it, since I've decided to accept that I'm the villain of this story. Consequences shouldn't matter…"
A soft sigh escaped, forming a small white cloud in the frigid air.
"…but killing a gentle man like you… goes against what I believe." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Regardless of the beast your disciple became, you bear no blame. Everything you do in this world is heal, save, and help people. Besides, considering you possess some knowledge of the [Miracle of Life], we could almost be considered half-brother disciples…"
He lowered his gaze, silent.
Down below, Yun Gu worked.
The old man inserted silver needles into the child with absolute precision, each point touched by a drop of vital energy so pure it resembled liquid light flowing across the skin. The girl's fever visibly subsided; her breathing, previously labored and painful, became as light as leaves rustling in the wind.
In a few minutes, she would be running through the village again, laughing as if nothing had happened.
Ren Zu watched the scene in silence.
Kill him or not…?
.
.
.
.
.
Eternal Sword Main Peak, Ascending Heavenly Sword Sect.
The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, painting the mountains in soft gold. The Eternal Sword Peak, always imposing and majestic, seemed even quieter than usual, as though it were breathing in unison with the wind weaving through the ancient pines.
That silence, however, was abruptly shattered.
"THE HERBS! ALL THE HERBS HAVE DISAPPEARED!!!"
The shout from the Ten Thousand Herbs Pavilion echoed across the entire peak like the roar of a wounded tiger. Moments later, Li Feng—an inner disciple renowned for his composure and dedication—stumbled out of the pavilion with a face as pale as the eternal snow crowning the neighboring mountain. Sweat poured down his forehead, and his hands trembled so violently that his identity plaque slipped from his fingers and clattered weakly onto the ground.
Behind him, inside the pavilion, reigned a terrifying emptiness.
The shelves that once held botanical treasures of incalculable value were now as clean as the sky after a storm. Not a single fallen petal, not a speck of spiritual dust.
Shock swept through the peak in seconds. Disciples rushed about like ants after their anthill had been destroyed.
Then another voice exploded into the air.
"THE PROFOUND WEAPONS! ALL THE PROFOUND WEAPONS ARE GONE!!! Even the Heaven-Breaking Sword… even our Ancestral's sword!!! EVERYTHING!!!"
It was Zhao Tianba, eighth on the inner ranking—a man who faced profound beasts without flinching, yet who now shook like a cornered rabbit. Nothing remained in the Nine Swords Arsenal. Not even the common blades of the outer disciples had been spared.
By this point, every elder present on Eternal Sword Peak was heading toward the central square, bewildered, stunned, some openly terrified.
But the worst was still to come.
A third figure limped toward the central square—an elder in gray robes, his white hair disheveled as though he had just awoken from a nightmare. He was the guardian of the Forbidden Library and the Heavenly Treasure Vault, a man who rarely displayed emotion.
Now, however, his eyes were red and brimming with tears.
He collapsed to his knees before the Sect Leader's Palace, his body nearly crumpling.
"Sect Leader…! Sect Leader!! The Forbidden Library… the profound art scrolls… the Manuals left by our ancestors… the forbidden techniques… everything… EVERYTHING IS GONE!" His voice broke as it trembled.
A suffocating silence enveloped the sect.
Thousands of disciples. Hundreds of elders. All frozen. Breath caught in nervous throats.
Then chaos erupted like a volcano.
"Who did this?!"
"How is it possible?! The defensive formations are intact!"
"Not even a ripple of profound energy! This is impossible!"
"An external enemy? A traitor?!"
Amid the pandemonium, a vast and domineering aura tore through the sky.
The air itself seemed to bow, and even the clouds trembled.
Mu Yingchan, the Sect Leader—a man whose mere presence was like a blade slicing through the firmament—appeared before them. His long, sharp eyebrows resembled twin swords, and his piercing gaze could shred the soul of a dishonest disciple.
"Silence."
His voice crashed down like thunder, and the world stopped.
With a wave of his hand, he summoned the recordings from the Surveillance Formations. Transparent projections manifested in the sky, displaying the last twenty-four hours of the sect.
Nothing.
Nothing.
And more nothing.
No shadow. No intruder. No abnormal flow of energy. No change in the wind, the earth, the sky, the light.
It was as though the entire theft had occurred… between one blink and the next.
Mu Yingchan's face turned deathly pale.
His voice, though low, carried a fury capable of overturning mountains.
"Someone infiltrated our sect…"
"Opened every ancestral formation…"
"And stole every herb, every weapon, every scroll, every treasure…"
"Without leaving a single trace of their presence."
His fists clenched, profound power surging in violent waves.
"Search. Scour every corner, every stone, every leaf. The entire world will rise to hunt this thief!"
Yet while the Ascending Heavenly Sword Sect plunged into absolute despair…
…the same horrifying scene unfolded elsewhere.
In the Heavenly Frustration Sect, the Patriarch roared in madness upon discovering that the one Sovereign Pill capable of saving his son had vanished, along with everything else in their treasury.
In the Divine Seven Stars Palace, Zuo Hanshuo wept tears of blood. The Ancestral Star Diagram, the most precious relic of his bloodline, was gone—along with all the profound cores accumulated over ten generations.
In less than half a day…
The three most powerful sects of the Azure Cloud Continent had been reduced to empty shells, their power, their legacy, and their dignity torn away like leaves in the wind.
And the most terrifying part…
No one, anywhere on the continent, had even the faintest shadow of a clue.
__________________
(A/N: Did you enjoy the chapter? Then you should know that over on my Patreon you can read up to 20 chapters ahead for just 5USD! And yes—for that price, you also get full access to all of my content. That's right: cheaper than a snack… and with way more drama, action, and guaranteed emotional damage.
The link is right below. See you there!
My Patreon: patreon.com/Adam_Kadmon
Thank you so much for your support — you make all of this worthwhile.)