The battlefield had long fallen silent.
What remained was not a victory—but an annihilation.
The rocky cliffs were drenched in dried blood. Swords lay snapped. Armor cracked. Spiritual remnants flickered like dying fireflies, their power slowly fading into the wind. What once was an army of 150 now existed only in fragments of bone and ash.
Amid the carnage, Xuan Long stood alone at the edge of the cliff. His black robes, though torn at the sleeves and hem, seemed untouched by any fire or blade. His presence was like the mountain itself—immovable, silent, eternal.
He turned, red eyes scanning the field below.
Behind him, his people waited—Mu Chen, Hei Mo, and the two demi-human illusionists—all standing among looted corpses, breathing steadily, their expressions firm and cold.
"Are they all dead?" Xuan Long asked without emotion.
Hei Mo stepped forward, brushing dried blood from his collar.
"Yes, Master. None escaped."
Suddenly, his body trembled.
A pulse of dark energy erupted from within. The ground beneath Hei Mo's feet cracked outward in a spiral, veins of black qi surging through the stone like roots tearing through earth.
Qi Vein Level 10.
Mu Chen staggered back a step, stunned.
"You broke through again…"
Hei Mo's eyes shimmered with shadowy flame. His voice was distant, as if he were listening to something far deeper than the mortal world.
"I… I feel different."
Xuan Long didn't flinch.
"Very good," he said simply, then turned toward the mountain horizon. "Pack everything."
He looked back at the smoking battlefield. "We're moving."
Blood Fang Headquarters — Former Enemy Territory
Their march was silent but determined.
The former path of the Blood Fang Bandits was littered with shattered camps, burned flags, and abandoned gear. And at the end of it—looming against the granite cliffs—stood the Blood Fang Fortress, a massive stone compound carved directly into the mountain's heart.
Its gates were scarred by age, but its walls still stood firm. Dozens of chambers extended deep underground. Iron torches still burned. Old runes flickered faintly on the walls. It had been a base of terror, known across the region.
Now—it belonged to Xuan Long.
They entered through the bloodstained hall, each footstep echoing like a drumbeat of conquest.
"This is ours now," Xuan Long declared.
They split up, exploring chamber by chamber. Hallways opened into meditation rooms, weapons caches, training pits, and vaults sealed with spiritual locks.
Eventually, they reached a thick door embedded with runes of earth and fire. Mu Chen examined it, his fingers trembling.
"This vault… it's sealed with triple formation arrays. This isn't ordinary storage."
Hei Mo stepped forward. "Let me handle it."
Shadow tendrils slithered from his arms, piercing into the key points. With a crack and pulse of dark light, the doors shuddered open.
Inside… treasure.
Stacks of gold, piles of spirit stones, racks of weapons forged from beast bone and enchanted steel. Scrolls—hundreds of them—lay coiled neatly on jade shelves. Talismans shimmered with old power.
Mu Chen gasped aloud.
"Three thousand… low-grade spirit stones!"
His eyes darted to the shelves.
"A mid-grade poison scroll!" He snatched it up. "This technique—if mastered—can kill even Foundation cultivators…"
His hands trembled, voice almost reverent.
"With this… I'll evolve far beyond what I was."
Xuan Long nodded once. "Good. Learn it. I expect results."
He turned to the demi-humans.
"You two. Master the Blood Fang Palm Strike. I don't care what you used before. From now on, you learn what gives you strength."
They bowed with solemn expressions.
"Yes, Master."
Then, to Hei Mo:
"Take what fits your path. Artifact, talisman, scroll—whatever strengthens you."
Hei Mo scanned the chamber and chose a set of shadow-aligned talismans and a low-grade stealth artifact—a black iron ring that pulsed with spatial qi.
The Dungeon — Blood Fang Prisons
Deeper in the mountain, they reached the prisons—dark halls lit by flickering red crystals. Chains rattled faintly in the silence. Twenty prisoners stared through the iron bars, their faces gaunt, clothes torn, but eyes still burning with spirit.
Xuan Long stood before them.
"I offer you a choice," he said, his voice echoing through the chamber.
"Pledge your loyalty to me… and I will give you cultivation, strength, and freedom."
He stepped closer, gaze sharp as a sword.
"Betray me… and your soul burns where you stand."
The prisoners hesitated—but only briefly.
One by one, they knelt.
A ragged voice rose: "We swear… on our life and spirit veins—our loyalty is yours!"
Chains shattered. Shackles snapped. The once-imprisoned became warriors.
Xuan Long's army had begun to grow.
The War Hall — That Night
Within the fortress war chamber, a massive round table stood beneath an ancient map carved into the wall. Candles flickered across the room as strategy scrolls lay unfurled.
Xuan Long stood at the head.
Around him, the core team sat—Mu Chen, Hei Mo, the demi-humans—and behind them, the twenty new recruits, now armored and cleaned.
Xuan Long spoke.
"From this moment forward, I form two divisions."
"Scout Division — led by the demi-humans. You will gather intelligence, sabotage enemy plans, and strike from the shadows."
"Combat Division — led by Mu Chen and Hei Mo. You will meet our enemies head-on and crush them."
The recruits stood in silence, listening with reverence.
"Those who choose scouting—step to the left."
"Those who choose combat—step to the right."
Five moved left.
Fifteen stepped right.
Balance.
Xuan Long nodded. "Good."
He waved his hand. "Distribute the vault's resources. I want every one of you to reach Qi Vein Level 5 within one month."
Mu Chen stepped forward, expression serious. "We'll train them personally, Master. They'll be ready."
Hei Mo nodded. "I'll forge discipline into them."
The demi-humans grinned, their illusionary eyes flickering with playful menace.
Then Hei Mo asked the question none dared to speak earlier:
"And… what about you, Master?"
Xuan Long turned slowly.
The glow in his eyes deepened—faint crimson, quiet and terrifying.
"I don't need resources," he said flatly. "Feed your subordinates. Build your strength. I will grow in other ways."
The entire hall dropped to one knee, fists over hearts.
"YES, MASTER!"
A pulse of unity filled the room.
This place—once a tomb of fear and blood—had been claimed, reforged.
No longer a den of bandits.
Now it was something else.
From within its walls, a new army was rising.
Not bound by sects.
Not shackled by dogma.
No elders. No temples. No gods.
Only a name.
Only a command.
Only Xuan Long.