The Blood Serpent squad moved like a tide of crimson through the mist, twenty strong, serpent insignias gleaming faintly beneath their torches. Venom qi dripped from their blades, hissing where it touched stone.
Haotian walked among them, hidden beneath the stolen robes, his aura bent to mimic theirs. Yet his golden eyes pierced every step, every gap, every flaw. The Eyes of the Universe burned, tracing their weaknesses like constellations against the dark.
Then the rear disciple spoke, suspicion lacing his voice.
"You. Which flank were you with?"
Haotian tilted his head, his face veiled beneath the hood. His voice was low, quiet as a blade drawn in silence.
"The one that didn't return."
Confusion flickered. Unease spread.
And in that breath, Haotian moved.
The Fenglong Spear flashed like a comet tearing the Abyss. His first thrust was silent — but eight more followed in a blur, layered strikes collapsing into one unstoppable blow.
Ninefold Thrust.
The disciple's chest ruptured with a sound like thunder, nine punctures tearing through armor and bone. He fell before the warning left his lips.
The squad erupted in chaos. Shouts rang, qi surged. Poisonous serpent whips lashed through the fog, blades carved arcs of venom light.
Haotian's stance shifted. He spun the spear in a tight spiral, arms flowing in perfect control.
The weapon multiplied. One became a dozen. A dozen became a hundred. Spears whirled in expanding arcs, afterimages overlapping until they formed a storm around him.
Rotating Spears.
Every strike deflected blades, shattered serpent qi, ground their formation into splinters. Poison light hissed and died against the vortex. The disciples reeled, staggered, cut by arcs they could not follow.
Then — Haotian roared, spear igniting with all nine elements at once. Flames spiraled, lightning crackled, frost split the ground. Wind howled, stone shattered, water surged, wood speared upward in jagged roots. Space bent, time stuttered.
He wove the Ninefold Thrust into the Rotating Spears. Linear devastation layered atop spiraling storms. Each thrust pierced between rotations, each rotation shielded and expanded the thrust. The air itself screamed as qi detonated in impossible harmony.
The Spear Dance of Heaven Sundering.
The Abyss lit as though heaven itself had split open.
Thrusts pierced disciples in rapid succession — one burned alive, another frozen solid, a third exploded from within as lightning burst through his veins. Spears rotated outward, arcs slicing through throats, severing limbs, splitting torsos. The battlefield became a storm of spear-light, every movement merciless and absolute.
The squad leader roared, serpent armor hardening across his body. His whip lashed like a dragon, venom qi boiling the mist. But Haotian's spear spiraled once, nine thrusts chained in an instant, each layered with a different element.
The first cracked his armor.
The second shattered it.
The third pierced his shoulder.
The fourth froze his blood.
The fifth burned his marrow.
The sixth splintered his ribs.
The seventh drowned his breath.
The eighth split his spine.
The ninth tore through his heart.
The leader's scream echoed once, then was gone — his body bursting into ash under Haotian's yang fire.
Silence.
The squad was gone. Their screams smothered, their blades shattered, their bodies reduced to ruin. The Abyss mist swirled in stunned stillness, the ground cracked and scarred from elemental devastation.
Haotian stood at the center, the Fenglong Spear humming low, nine elements fading from its edge. His robes still bore the serpent insignia, unbroken disguise. Ash drifted around him, carried by the windless fog.
He exhaled, steady, his golden eyes dimming.
"One squad at a time." His voice cut through the silence, soft but unyielding.
"Until none remain."
And then he stepped forward, vanishing once more into the Abyss mist — the hunt unfinished, the dance not yet complete.
The mist no longer felt silent. It carried echoes now—faint, broken screams that died too quickly to spread far.
Haotian moved through it like a shadow given purpose. His stolen robes bore no stain, his serpent insignia unbroken. To the eyes of the Blood Serpent Sect disciples, he was still one of them. To the Abyss, he was death itself.
Another patrol came into view. Seven disciples, blades slick with beast ichor, their laughter coarse and arrogant.
"Those Azure dogs won't last long," one jeered, wiping venom from his sword.
"Let them run deeper. The Abyss itself will eat them."
Haotian drifted into their formation, step silent, aura disguised. The seventh disciple turned to glance at him, recognition absent. His lips parted—too late.
Ninefold Thrust.
The spear punctured his chest nine times in the span of a heartbeat. The shockwave cracked the ridge beneath them, blood spraying in all directions. Before the rest could react, Haotian spun, the Rotating Spears blooming in a storm of afterimages. Blades and qi shattered on impact; disciples fell screaming as their bodies were torn apart by arcs of spear-light.
The last survivor tried to flee. Haotian's eyes flared, the spear lancing forward. Fire and lightning surged down the haft, piercing the man through. His corpse erupted in cinders, ashes swept into the mist.
Treasure, rings, talismans—all stripped. Then the extreme yang fire consumed what was left.
Nothing remained.
Moments later, another squad. Twelve disciples this time, their formation tighter, their torches brighter. Haotian walked with them for several breaths, silent, matching their pace. Suspicion never had the chance to grow.
The spear blurred.
The Spear Dance of Heaven Sundering erupted in their midst.
Thrusts rained like lightning, rotations shredded like hurricanes. Flames spiraled with frost, lightning cracked through stone, space bent under the assault. Screams rose, then choked into silence. In seconds, all twelve were corpses scattered across the ridge.
Then ashes. Always ashes.
Another.
And another.
Squad after squad vanished into silence, their patrol routes erased, their numbers dwindling in shadows. The Blood Serpent Sect disciples spread further, suspicion spreading with them. At first, they thought the Azure Dragon Sect had set traps. Then they muttered of Abyss beasts ambushing patrols.
But soon, whispers rose in terror:
"It's not the beasts."
"It's someone in our ranks."
"They're wearing our robes."
Panic stirred. Eyes shifted uneasily, disciples staring at one another with venomous mistrust. Every shadow became a threat. Every comrade a suspect.
In the distance, Haotian watched. His golden eyes gleamed faintly beneath the hood, his hand steady on the spear.
He had not just thinned their numbers. He had planted fear in their hearts, a toxin no antidote could cure.
Their greatest weakness was not the Abyss. It was the doubt clawing at their minds.
Haotian stepped once more into the mist. His voice, quiet, carried like a whisper only the Abyss itself could hear.
"One squad at a time… until none remain."
Haotian moved through the mist, the weight of countless slain squads erased behind him in fire and ash. His spear remained steady at his back, his serpent robes still unstained. Yet as he advanced deeper, the pressure changed.
It was heavier. Thicker. A presence not like the others.
Ahead, a cluster of crimson torches glowed, their flames twisting in the haze. Twenty-nine disciples marched in rigid formation, and at their center walked an elder. His serpent armor was plated with scaled patterns, each glowing faintly with venom qi. His eyes burned with ruthless intelligence, and the weight of his aura pressed against the Abyss like an iron wall.
Late stage Dao Comprehension Realm.
Haotian narrowed his eyes. A direct confrontation would be dangerous. His steps slowed, body sinking into the shadow of a jagged boulder. Breath steady, aura suppressed. For once, he hesitated.
But the elder's gaze cut through the fog.
"Come out." His voice rumbled like stone cracking.
A flick of his sleeve — BOOM! Poison qi exploded against the rock where Haotian hid, shattering it to rubble. Dust and shards rained down as the formation turned toward the blast.
Haotian rolled out, his hood slipping just enough to reveal the serpent insignia on his robes. His body trembled, spear clutched to his chest. His voice cracked with desperation."Elder! Please—stop! I'm one of you!"
The disciples swarmed closer, weapons raised, eyes narrowing. But the elder stepped forward, hand raised to halt them. His gaze was sharp, probing."…Why were you hiding?"
Haotian bowed low, body shaking. His voice quivered with fear, each word carefully measured."M-my squad… ambushed. The Azure Dragon whelps… they came at us from the mist. Everyone else was cut down—I barely escaped. I-I hid here to recover before reporting."
The elder's eyes narrowed further, searching for flaws. Haotian lowered his gaze, trembling just enough to sell the fear.
Finally, the elder exhaled through his nose. His suspicion eased."Where?"
Haotian raised a shaking hand, pointing toward the mist."Near the gorge. The beasts tore apart the bodies after the fight. But I saw them retreat inside… the Azure whelps, they're there now."
The disciples stirred, venom qi flaring in excitement. The elder's lips curved into a cruel smile."Good. Then we end them here."
He raised his arm."Forward! Kill them all!"
At once, twenty-nine Blood Serpent Sect disciples surged toward the gorge, their war cries echoing into the depths. Poison flames lit the fog, the ground quaking under their charge.
Haotian remained where he was, spear resting at his side. The elder, noticing, stopped and turned. His gaze sharpened like a blade."…What are you still doing here?"
Haotian's trembling stopped. Slowly, he straightened. The fear on his face vanished. His golden eyes ignited beneath the hood, sharp and merciless.
The Fenglong Spear slid into his hands, humming with restrained fury. The nine elements flickered across its edge, flames, frost, lightning, and space-time distortions weaving together into a deadly storm.
Haotian's voice was no longer meek. It was cold steel, ringing in the Abyss."What I came here to do."
He thrust.
The elder's eyes widened as the spear blurred forward, splitting the mist with elemental fury.
The Fenglong Spear blurred, its tip streaking with nine converging elemental forces. The elder snapped his arm up, venom qi erupting like a serpent's maw. The collision split the mist, shockwaves tearing stone as both men staggered back.
"Bold brat!" the elder snarled, his palm dripping venom light. "You dare strike me?"
Haotian steadied his stance, spear tip angled low, golden eyes unwavering. "I don't just strike." His voice cut sharp. "I kill."
The elder roared, venom qi exploding outward. His figure blurred as he swept forward, palm after palm slamming into the mist like thunderclaps. Each strike carried crushing Dao comprehension — venomous laws bending air and qi alike. Haotian parried, the spear whirling, deflecting blasts that splintered stone into dust. But the pressure built, each palm heavier, sharper. The air itself grew toxic.
The elder's hand crashed into the spear haft, venom surging down its length. Haotian gritted his teeth as the impact shook his arms numb. A follow-up palm slammed into his chest, launching him back. His body struck the cliffside, stone shattering beneath the impact. He coughed blood, boots skidding as he forced himself upright.
The elder sneered, advancing. "You wear our robes… but you are no disciple of mine. Who are you really?"
Haotian wiped blood from his lips. His spear flared, nine elemental auras spinning across the shaft. His eyes narrowed, golden fire igniting."Your end."
He lunged.
The Fenglong Spear moved faster than thought, piercing forward nine times in a single heartbeat. Each thrust carried a different element — flame, frost, lightning, wind, stone, water, wood, space, and time — converging into a single shattering strike.
Ninefold Thrust.
The elder's eyes widened as the spear tore into his shoulder, blasting through armor, flesh, and bone. He roared, venom qi exploding in retaliation. His palm slammed into Haotian's chest, ribs cracking, blood spraying as Haotian was thrown like a ragdoll across the ground.
The spear pulled free with a wet sound. The elder staggered, clutching his wound. He pushed venom qi into the gash, sealing blood flow, his expression twisting into disdain. "A scratch. Nothing more."
Then he froze.
His meridians burned.
Flame ignited inside him, lightning spasmed through his veins, frost crystallized in his lungs. The nine elements surged like a storm, invading every channel, shredding every line of qi. He vomited blood, his body convulsing as he forced spirit energy to counter.
"What is this…? Poison?" His eyes blazed with disbelief. "Impossible. I am immune to all poison!"
But the more he pushed, the faster his energy unraveled. The invading elements weren't simple toxins — they devoured what he threw at them, burning his spirit energy as fuel to spread deeper.
Across from him, Haotian groaned, struggling to his knees. His chest burned with agony, venom qi spreading through his blood. His hands shook as he pulled a jade pill from his sleeve, swallowing it in one motion.
A hiss escaped his body. Green vapor seeped from his pores, curling in acrid streams. His stomach clenched, and he burped out a foul cloud of poison gas, coughing hard as his veins cleared. With trembling hands, he swallowed a second pill, warmth spreading as his ribs began to knit, his breath stabilizing.
The elder staggered, watching, stunned. "You… expelled it? You expelled my venom?"
Haotian straightened slowly, the Fenglong Spear scraping the ground as he advanced, step by step. His chest rose and fell heavily, but his eyes burned with cold light.
The elder choked on his own blood. His dantian pulsed violently — then ruptured. He vomited a greater torrent of blood, knees slamming into the ground. His face twisted in disbelief, despair flooding his eyes.
"W-who… are you…?"
Haotian's voice was low, final. He lifted the spear in both hands, golden light spiraling across the haft."Your unmaker."
The spear drove forward, piercing the elder's heart. The sound was wet, sharp, absolute. The elder convulsed once, then stilled, his body sagging lifeless against the weapon.
Haotian pulled the spear free, shaking blood from the blade. His hand swept over the corpse, stripping treasures, jade slips, an engraved sect emblem, and the elder's spatial ring. One by one, they vanished into his storage.
He flicked his wrist. Yang fire flared, consuming the body, devouring even the elder's venomous qi. In moments, only ash drifted into the mist.
Then came the screams.
Haotian's head snapped up, gaze locking on the gorge in the distance. The cries of Blood Serpent Sect disciples rose, shrill and panicked, echoing through the Abyss as the roar of abyssal beasts followed. Stone rumbled, mist shuddered, their deaths sharp and final.
A thin smile curved Haotian's lips."That should take care of them."
He turned, spear resting across his shoulders, and began moving swiftly through the mist. His disguise remained, his aura muted. His pace quickened, rushing back to where the Azure Dragon Sect disciples waited under his protective formation.
The Abyss mist parted slowly as Haotian returned, every step heavy but deliberate. His serpent robes were torn and darkened with blood, the Fenglong Spear resting against his shoulder like a pillar holding up his battered frame. His chest rose and fell hard, breath rasping through the silence, but his golden eyes still glowed faintly through the haze.
The glow of the five-layered formation shimmered ahead, its golden runes pulsing steady in the mist. Inside, the Azure Dragon Sect disciples tensed as his figure approached. Hands went to hilts and bows, tension snapping taut—until the barrier shimmered open.
They froze.
It was Haotian.
Bloodied. Bruised. His skin faintly steaming from the yang fire that still lingered within him. But alive.
"Haotian!" Lianhua rushed forward, eyes wide. She nearly stumbled out of the formation before he raised a hand to stop her.
He stepped inside and let the barrier seal behind him. The air shifted instantly, relief rippling through the group. But none dared speak first.
Haotian leaned the spear against his shoulder, exhaled once, then said plainly:"I fought an elder of the Blood Serpent Sect. Late stage Dao Comprehension Realm."
Shock erupted in the group. Wen Qingyao's blade slipped from his grip, clattering against stone. Su Ming's jaw tightened, disbelief stark on his face. Lin Yue's eyes widened, lips parting as though to speak, then closing again.
Lianhua stared at him, trembling. "…And you came back standing?"
Haotian smirked faintly, though his shoulders sagged. "Barely. But he won't rise again."
Silence thickened. The disciples exchanged glances, awe and dread mixing in their faces.
Haotian straightened slowly, the spear grounding against stone with a sharp click. His voice carried steady, final."The elder is dead. And the disciples who followed him… all of them are gone. The Abyss beasts in the gorge tore them apart. None survived."
The words fell like a hammer.
Relief broke first. Shoulders slumped. Su Ming exhaled a shaky breath. Wen Qingyao laughed once, almost disbelieving. Even Lin Yue dropped to her knees, trembling with exhaustion and release.
"It's safe now," Haotian continued. His golden eyes swept across each of them, steady, unyielding. "We can leave this place. No more Blood Serpent Sect disciples remain in the Abyss."
For the first time since they'd plunged into the depths, true silence reigned — not tense, not fearful, but a silence carrying the weight of survival.
Lianhua's eyes softened as she knelt beside him, hands brushing lightly against his torn chest. "You risked everything…"
Haotian closed his eyes briefly, leaning against the spear. "That's what it took."
He pushed himself upright once more. His aura steadied, golden light pulsing faintly around him."Rest for a moment. Then we move. This Abyss has nothing left for us."
The disciples nodded one by one, their breaths shaky but resolute.
For the first time, they felt the end of this nightmare within reach.
Within the layered glow of Haotian's formation, the air finally felt still. For the first time since plunging into the Abyss, the disciples could breathe without the sting of venom qi or the weight of pursuit.
Haotian sat against the stone wall, the Fenglong Spear across his knees. His robes were torn, his chest bruised deep purple, blood still at the corner of his lips. But his golden eyes remained steady, watching the mist beyond the barrier as if daring it to move.
The others gathered near, exhaustion etched into their faces. Their breaths came ragged, weapons trembling faintly in hands that had not unclenched since the chase began.
It was Lianhua who broke the silence. She crouched beside Haotian, her voice soft but firm."You fought a Dao Comprehension elder alone… and came back alive."
Haotian exhaled slowly, eyes half-lidded. "He underestimated me. That was his first mistake. His last was thinking poison would kill me."
Wen Qingyao shook his head, still pale. "Late Dao Comprehension… I thought that realm untouchable. And you… you killed him." His hand pressed against his chest as if to steady himself. "If that's what you can do now… then what are we compared to you?"
Su Ming grimaced but forced himself to speak. "Alive. We're alive because of him. That's enough."
Lin Yue's eyes glistened as she clutched her crystal map to her chest. "So all the Serpent disciples… gone?"
Haotian nodded once. "The beasts at the gorge devoured what remained. Their sect has no foothold here anymore." His voice was iron, final. "We're safe to leave."
Relief washed over them in waves. Some slumped against the wall, others set their weapons down for the first time since entering the Abyss. The air felt lighter, though the mist outside still whispered.
Lianhua stayed at Haotian's side, quietly placing a healing talisman against his chest. The faint glow seeped into his wounds, knitting flesh where the elder's palm had nearly shattered him. She didn't speak further — her silence was steadier than words.
Haotian accepted it with a faint smile, closing his eyes for a moment. His body was battered, but his will unbroken.
"Rest," he said finally, his voice carrying across the group. "Gather your strength. We leave soon."
The disciples nodded, each sinking into brief meditation, their exhaustion etched into the quiet.
The Abyss outside rumbled faintly, but inside the golden formation, for this brief moment, they had found calm.
Time slipped like water in the stillness of the formation. The disciples sat cross-legged, breathing steadied, wounds bound. The golden glow of the array wrapped them in fragile safety — but everyone knew it could not last forever.
Haotian rose first. His chest still ached where the elder's palm had struck, and his body bore the faint green traces of expelled poison, but his golden eyes were sharp again. The Fenglong Spear rested against his shoulder, faint light rippling along its length.
He looked over them, each disciple worn and pale, but alive."It's time," he said, voice low but unyielding.
The formation dissolved with a wave of his hand, golden runes folding back into silence. Mist swept in immediately, cold and damp, curling around ankles and shoulders. The Abyss pressed close once more, its whispers returning like a tide of ghosts.
Haotian took the front. Lianhua stepped to his side without hesitation, her hand brushing her sword hilt. The others fell into a loose formation behind them, every face drawn tight but resolute.
They moved.
The Abyss stirred at their presence. Shadows writhed in the distance, the faint glow of bestial eyes opening, then closing again. Claws scraped across stone in the fog. But none approached too close. Perhaps it was the remnants of Haotian's yang fire lingering on his body, or perhaps even the beasts sensed the fate of the Blood Serpent Sect and chose caution.
At one point, the path veered toward the gorge. Screams still echoed faintly — but weaker now, scattered remnants of what had been a massacre. Haotian's gaze lingered there only briefly before turning away.
"Not that way. We keep east."
The disciples followed without question.
Illusions thickened the deeper they went — walls shifting, cliffs appearing where none existed, pathways vanishing. Twice, Wen Qingyao nearly stepped into a chasm that wasn't there. Both times, Haotian's hand shot out, dragging him back. His golden eyes flared, the Eyes of the Universe piercing the false veils.
"Follow my steps," Haotian commanded, his voice carrying through the mist. "Do not stray."
They obeyed. Step by step, they traced his path, the illusions unraveling only where he led.
Beasts tested them. A massive shadow lunged from the fog — six claws, fangs dripping black ichor. Before panic could spread, Haotian's spear shot forward, the haft crackling with elemental qi. A single thrust pierced its skull, fire and lightning erupting in its head, the body collapsing before it reached the formation. Haotian did not pause. He simply withdrew the spear, golden eyes never leaving the path.
The disciples moved with him, their breaths hushed, their fear slowly transforming into trust. Every strike he made, every illusion he shattered, carved a way out of the Abyss where no path had existed.
At last, the mist thinned. The weight in the air lifted, the oppressive whispers dimmed. Faint light bled into the fog ahead — the first sign of the Abyss's edge.
Relief swept through the group. Su Ming let out a shaky laugh. Lin Yue's crystal pulsed faintly, confirming the boundary was close.
Haotian stopped, his spear grounding against stone. He turned to look at them, the faint light painting his battered figure in sharp lines."We're not free yet. The Abyss always tries to claim what leaves it. Stay close."
The disciples nodded, their grips tightening on their weapons.
Together, led by Haotian's steady steps, they pressed toward the light — toward the edge of the Abyss, where survival waited.