The morning after the ritual, Yi Zhen awoke in a dim chamber deep within the Celestial Harmony Sect. His body felt heavier, yet surging with a dark energy that tingled beneath his skin like liquid fire.
He reached into his mind and touched the core of his cultivation — the Inverse Dao.
A pulse of power radiated back.
He closed his eyes.
Stage: Blackened Meridian Realm, Third Layer.
Progress had been hard-fought, the kind that left scars in the soul and stains in the mind.
But Yi Zhen knew better than to rest on this small victory.
The world was already trembling beneath his name.
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Day One: The Crimson Lotus Sect
As the sun rose, Yi Zhen approached the Crimson Lotus Sect—a sect famed for its swift assassins and poisonous qi.
Their gates were flanked by jade statues of lotus flowers, delicate yet deadly.
He entered alone.
Almost immediately, traps sprung and arrows hissed through the air.
Yi Zhen's senses sharpened, his body moving in calculated bursts to dodge and counterattack.
He unleashed a whirlwind of fists and Qi blasts, each strike precise, designed to dismantle the enemy's formation.
Yet, the sect was prepared. Elite disciples poured in—masters of hidden blades, poisonous needles, and shadow illusions.
Each fight was brutal and strategic; Yi Zhen could not afford reckless power.
He conserved energy, using the environment to his advantage—shattered pillars, pools of water, even poisonous plants he twisted into weapons with his Qi.
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After hours of relentless combat, the core disciples lay broken and gasping.
He then prepared the ritual circle, carved deep into the earth beneath the Crimson Lotus altar.
Candles flickered, blood was drawn, and ancient chants rolled from his lips.
The souls of the sect's fallen disciples rose, translucent and screaming, bound by the ritual to fuel his Inverse Dao.
But the ritual was a painstaking ordeal—any misstep would mean a backlash strong enough to shatter his meridians.
His body trembled with the strain as he absorbed the soul essences, each moment a knife's edge between power and oblivion.
When the ritual completed, a black flame flickered across his skin, marking the slow, agonizing growth of his cultivation.
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Day Two: The Azure Fang Sect
On the second day, Yi Zhen struck the Azure Fang Sect, a mountain fortress home to fierce warriors who specialized in beast taming and feral Qi.
The air smelled of earth and animal musk.
The gates roared open, and he was met by pack after pack of feral disciples, their Qi roaring like wild beasts.
This battle was less about finesse and more about endurance.
Yi Zhen's body was pushed to its limits, every strike met with claw and fang.
He blocked, dodged, and countered with a relentless rhythm, breaking bones and burning Qi meridians alike.
His muscles screamed in agony, but he knew each wound was a price paid for power.
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Once the fortress lay silent, Yi Zhen again set his ritual.
This time, the circle was larger, etched with runes of binding and soul extraction.
The ritual dragged on longer, each soul harder to claim as the sect's spirit resisted fiercely.
Pain blossomed through Yi Zhen's entire body.
He collapsed to one knee as the last soul was drawn in, his vision darkening.
When he opened his eyes, the cold fire of the Inverse Dao burned brighter within him.
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Day Three: The Obsidian Serpent Sect
On the final day of the cycle, Yi Zhen descended upon the Obsidian Serpent Sect, a clan shrouded in mystery and feared for their mastery of venom and shadow Dao arts.
The terrain twisted and warped beneath his feet, serpent-shaped statues looming ominously.
This battle was a nightmare.
Venoms clouded the air; shadows moved with lethal intent.
Yi Zhen's Qi churned wildly as he fought a war on multiple fronts—disabling traps, parrying curses, and battling poisonous disciples who seemed to dissolve into smoke and strike from all angles.
The ritual here required the utmost precision.
One wrong move could poison his soul irreparably.
Hours bled into one another as he fought, bled, and sacrificed.
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At last, when the last scream echoed and the souls were bound, Yi Zhen poured every ounce of will into the ritual's completion.
His body convulsed with the dark power surging through his meridians.
The Inverse Dao welcomed him deeper, but the price was clear—every ritual left a shadow upon his spirit.
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Reputation in Flames
As the days passed, word of the Blackened Terror spread through the cultivation world.
Whispers filled taverns and sect halls alike.
Yi Zhen was no longer just a cultivator; he was a storm on the horizon, a merciless force of destruction and dark ritual.
Sects bolstered defenses, elders sharpened swords, and assassins waited in the shadows.
They knew the three-day cycle of death and soul sacrifice was just beginning.
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Author's Note – Terry
Power forged in blood and soul is never free.
Yi Zhen's climb is brutal, painful, and slow—a testament to endurance and cold calculation.
This chapter dives deep into the grind behind cultivation, where victory means survival and every step forward costs something precious.
Will Yi Zhen's relentless path break him or make him invincible?
Stay tuned. (Authors note):(The dealing on my chapters that I have loaded for you guys we're taking too long, and when they did come out they would be short so here are multiple chapters, love my fans):By Terry