Mo Xian began teaching him secretly.
Not techniques.
Truth.
"There are three foundations," the elder said.
"Body. Soul. Mandate."
"Mandate is authority over existence."
"Long ago, humans wielded it freely."
"Heaven confiscated it."
Li Tianyuan asked one question:
"How do I take it back?"
Mo Xian's eyes gleamed.
"By surviving long enough."
Training was brutal.
His body shattered repeatedly.
His soul trembled at the edge of collapse.
But the dark current refined him differently.
It did not nurture.
It consumed weakness.
Months later—
He reached Spirit Condensation.
But his core was not golden.
It was black.
Etched with faint silver cracks.
Mo Xian stared in silence.
"You are not forming a Core."
"You are forming a Scar."
The day he stepped into Law Engraving—
The sky turned crimson.
Thunder roared without clouds.
Azure Mist Province froze in fear.
A tear opened in the heavens.
A figure descended in armor of blinding light.
General Zhao Wutian.
Voice like judgment.
"Li Tianyuan."
"You cultivate forbidden authority."
"Kneel."
The clan prostrated instantly.
Li Tianyuan stood alone.
He looked at the sky.
At the invisible crack only he could see.
And said quietly:
"No."
The battle shattered mountains.
Zhao Wutian wielded pure Heavenly Law.
Every strike carried divine decree.
But when Li Tianyuan activated the dark current—
The laws bent.
The General's spear pierced his shoulder—
But deviated slightly.
Fate missed by inches.
Zhao Wutian's eyes widened.
"You touched Mandate…"
For the first time in history—
Heavenly blood fell to earth.