Reappearance of the Black Robes

Reappearance of the Black Robes . . .

Within the confines of the sacred treasure cauldron, Qin Wentian delved deep into contemplation. He marveled at the revelation that these awe-inspiring innate techniques were, unequivocally, all classified as immortal-ranked arts.

As Qin Wentian's consciousness immersed itself in the sea of runic diagrams depicting ancient demons, a vivid tableau of their formidable powers unfolded before his mind's eye.

He beheld the majestic Great Demon Dragon, its wings of flame outstretched, shaking the very foundations of the heavens and earth with a single resounding strike.

A transformation occurred before him as a Shenxiang metamorphosed into an unrivaled demonic beast, its earth-shaking footsteps resonating through the sky.

The mighty Kirin waged a celestial war, exuding an unparalleled magnificence akin to that of a battle god.

The thunderous roar of Zhenkong reverberated, its cry possessing the capability to obliterate entire worlds.

He witnessed Hundun, its galloping form altering the very fabric of time and space. With its gaping maw, it devoured stars, commanding an awe-inspiring, boundless might.

Demon Dragon, Great Roc, Xuanwu, Divine Statue (Shenxiang), Vermillion Bird, Kirin, Zhenkong, and Hundun!

Etched within the cauldron's interior, Qin Wentian beheld the depictions of eight supreme and ancient demonic beasts, each endowed with the power to lay waste to the heavens and earth. The intricate runes metamorphosed into ultimate Greater-Demon innate arts, all immortal-ranked and unparalleled in their potency. Yet, Qin Wentian could only glimpse these scenes, unable to comprehend their profound essence.

Perhaps only when he reached the realm of immortal kings and emperors could he unlock the secrets of this supreme and ancient might. Only then could he wield these Greater-Demon techniques to challenge the very heavens.

Deep in thought, Qin Wentian continued his contemplation. Although his current cultivation was limited, these ultimate Greater-Demon arts stirred a profound fervor within him. This was a sacred and ancient treasure, and even the faintest glimmer of insight could unlock unimaginable power. With his current level of cultivation, he could merely harness a fraction of the potential of immortal-ranked techniques like the Immortal Vanquishing Swordplay. Nonetheless, his attacks still surpassed those of his peers in the same realm.

Time flowed on, with Qin Wentian lost in his cultivation. The protective formation surrounding his cultivation grounds ensured that no interruptions could deter his focus. The Sacred Luminance contained within this sacred cauldron was a closely guarded secret, requiring him to proceed with the utmost caution.

Meanwhile, in the City of Ancient Emperors, the fervor ignited by the revised Immortal Ascension Rankings had yet to abate. However, on the following day, an even more astonishing piece of news swept across the city, sending shivers down the spines of all who heard it.

At the Violet Sect's headquarters, a throng of experts had gathered, their collective gaze fixated on a gaping crater. Within its confines lay a headless cadaver, bloodstains marring its lifeless form. This lifeless husk belonged to none other than Zi Daoyang.

The shocking news sent shockwaves through the City of Ancient Emperors. Zi Daoyang, who had once held the pinnacle of the rankings, had met his demise, assassinated by an unknown assailant within the very heart of the city.

Once ranked first, now he was dead.

In the heart of the City of Ancient Emperors, an unsettling truth had unfolded. Zi Daoyang, the former luminary of the Immortal Ascension Rankings, the scion of the Violet Emperor himself, had met a gruesome end within the city's very confines. His demise was nothing short of brutal, with his head obliterated by a malevolent assailant, leaving behind only a mutilated corpse. In the wake of this grim discovery, there was no jubilation to be found; only a chilling aura enveloped those who bore witness.

The question lingered like an ominous cloud: Who could have possibly slain Zi Daoyang?

It was a query that gnawed at the minds of every genius present.

Who possessed the audacity to end Zi Daoyang's life?

Who wielded the power to vanquish Zi Daoyang?

Who dared to challenge Zi Daoyang's might?

A daring supposition was voiced, a whisper in the sea of speculation: "Could it have been Qin Wentian?" After all, Qin Wentian had publicly bested Zi Daoyang in combat, and the Violet Emperor's divine sense had been annihilated by the formidable energy of the City of Ancient Emperors. Furthermore, Zi Daoyang had been grievously wounded, narrowly escaping with his life thanks to a valuable treasure. Was it plausible that Qin Wentian had pursued him to the very lair of the Violet Sect, seeking to finish what he had started?

"Remember, Qin Wentian once dared to slay Xuan Xing. It stands to reason he would not hesitate to confront Zi Daoyang. Additionally, his demonic beast companion covets a portion of Zi Daoyang's legacy from the Brahma Heavenly Emperor. The motive is there," mused one observer. In the court of public opinion, Qin Wentian emerged as the prime suspect in this grim affair.

Yet, another voice in the crowd put forward an alternative theory. "We mustn't disregard Mo Xie. His ruthlessness is well-known, and he is undeniably perilous. Mo Xie, too, has inherited a fragment of the Brahma Heavenly Emperor's legacy. Curiously, he remained conspicuously absent on the day Qin Wentian faced Zi Daoyang. It's possible he seized the opportunity to launch a clandestine assault once Zi Daoyang was weakened," posited the astute individual.

Presently, only Qin Wentian and Mo Xie stood above Zi Daoyang in the Immortal Ascension Rankings, and their formidable strength made them the prime suspects. Only they would have the audacity to execute such a daring act, especially when dealing with a scion of the Violet Emperor.

Word of Zi Daoyang's demise soon reached the ears of the Qin Sect, eliciting shock and disbelief among its members. None had anticipated such a turn of events.

However, within the confines of the Qin Sect, another narrative began to unfold. It was revealed that Qin Wentian, since his triumphant duel with Zi Daoyang, had entered a period of seclusion, devoting himself to intensive cultivation. He had not once stepped beyond the boundaries of the Qin Sect's headquarters, rendering it nearly impossible for him to orchestrate Zi Daoyang's assassination. Of course, there were still whispers and insinuations that Qin Wentian might have secretly orchestrated the act.

Upon emerging from his seclusion, Qin Wentian was met with the somber news from Jun Mengchen and his companions. The revelation of Zi Daoyang's demise caused a deep furrow in his brow. "This could only have been the handiwork of Mo Xie," Qin Wentian declared with unwavering conviction.

Nanfeng Yunxi gazed intently at Qin Wentian, her curiosity piqued. "How can you be so certain?" she inquired.

As the discussions about Zi Daoyang's tragic demise continued to swirl, Qin Wentian remained resolute in his convictions. His words rang out, addressing the doubts that lingered in the minds of those gathered around him.

"Have you all forgotten the treacherous battle within the depths of the Underworld Mountains? Mo Xie cunningly bided his time until both our Qin Sect and the Violet Sect had suffered immense losses, only to swoop in and reap the spoils of our strife. I openly challenged Mo Xie after I vanquished the Eastern Sage Immortal Sect, but he remained conspicuously absent. Zi Daoyang, on the other hand, was different. After our duel, the protective aura of his immortal sense vanished, and the once-mighty Violet Sect crumbled. According to your accounts, Zi Daoyang convalesced alone in the Violet Sect, nursing his injuries. If Mo Xie had coveted the inheritance, that night presented an unparalleled opportunity."

Nanfeng Yunxi nodded in agreement, aligning her thoughts with Qin Wentian's astute reasoning. She concurred that Mo Xie, driven by ambition and ruthlessness, would not have allowed such an auspicious moment to pass him by. She added, "Indeed, Zi Daoyang bore the wounds inflicted by your might. Engaging him in battle at that juncture would have been disadvantageous. For Mo Xie, it was a golden opportunity to seize the coveted inheritance. If I were in his shoes, I would have chosen the same."

Jun Mengchen chimed in, "It's true that, despite his arrogance, Zi Daoyang was willing to confront us openly."

Qin Wentian's gaze hardened as he spoke with grave seriousness. "Inform Little Rascal to exercise utmost caution. There are only nine portions of the Brahma Heavenly Emperor's inheritance. If Mo Xie truly eliminated Zi Daoyang, he now possesses three portions. He will stop at nothing to claim the rest, and Little Rascal won't be spared."

Meanwhile, in the outside world, rampant speculation continued to shroud the identity of Zi Daoyang's assailant. Frustration plagued those who ventured into the depths of the Underworld Mountains; while they had located the Antiquity City, its ancient path remained sealed, beyond their reach.

The passage of time gradually eroded the fervor ignited by Zi Daoyang's demise. Qin Wentian and his companions remained deeply engrossed in their cultivation. Nanfeng Yunxi, Qing'er, Jun Mengchen, and others diligently fortified their foundations, their sights firmly set on the celestial realm. For cultivators at their current level, the path to the immortal realm beckoned as their ultimate goal.

Two months slipped by, marked by diligent cultivation and relentless pursuit of strength. During this time, Qin Wentian methodically solidified his prowess, striving to comprehend the profound Greater-Demon techniques within the sacred cauldron. The tumultuous tides that had once heralded the meteoric rise of the Qin Sect now seemed to recede, returning the City of Ancient Emperors to an era where Zi Daoyang reigned supreme. The sole distinction was that the Qin Sect had supplanted the Violet Sect, and their unassailable position remained unchallenged.

In this new hierarchy, Qin Wentian claimed the top spot, while Mo Xie trailed at second place. No other contenders emerged capable of contesting their dominion over the City of Ancient Emperors.

Indeed, among the other eight members of the Qin Sect who held positions within the top eleven of the Immortal Ascension Rankings, their standings remained as unyielding as the ancient mountains. Their camaraderie was unwavering, and they eschewed any discord amongst themselves. Even as some among them continued to amass strength and refine their skills, the immutable nature of their rankings persisted.

The enigma of Mo Xie's whereabouts loomed large. He had seemingly vanished into thin air, his existence shrouded in mystery. Time elapsed in a veiled haze, devoid of any sightings or mentions of him. As for Qin Wentian's audacious challenge, it appeared to fall on deaf ears, either ignored or unbeknownst to the elusive Mo Xie.

Yet, the lingering question persisted in the minds of the populace: Was it Qin Wentian or Mo Xie who had orchestrated Zi Daoyang's fateful demise?

...

Beneath the night's oppressive cloak, the atmosphere hung thick with anticipation, like tranquil waters hiding an undercurrent of turmoil. A figure clad in voluminous flowing black robes traversed the heavens, a mere wisp of starlight amidst the obsidian expanse. It directed its path toward the Qin Sect with an unfaltering purpose, its presence shrouded in an impenetrable veil.

Within a secluded courtyard, Little Rascal reclined on the ground, enveloped in a tempestuous aura. Thunderous reverberations resonated from within him, casting a radiant glow that illuminated the night. Little Rascal, engrossed in fervent cultivation, remained oblivious to the impending danger that crept closer.

The late hour found the majority of the Qin Sect's disciples immersed in their own cultivation, their focus unwavering. Unbeknownst to them, the silent figure in flowing black robes materialized in the night sky, seamlessly melding with the darkness. Its presence remained undetected, a phantom lurking in the shadows, biding its time.

Not far from the vigilant Little Rascal, Purgatory maintained her poised stance. An inkling of unease brushed against her instincts, causing her obsidian eyes to snap open, piercing the inky night sky. In an instant, a searing brilliance erupted, and a spine-chilling shriek reverberated through the tranquil night, shaking the entire Qin Sect to its core.

Simultaneously, a malevolent silhouette shrouded in flowing black robes materialized from the shadows, a harbinger of impending doom. A relentless dark saber, an embodiment of black lightning's malevolence, descended with unforgiving force.

"Yi!" Purgatory's claws gouged the earth beneath her, inciting a cascade of runic radiance that surged skyward. An intricate protective formation, inscribed by none other than Qin Wentian himself, flickered to life. Foreseeing the perilous potential of Mo Xie's menace, Qin Wentian had taken precautions following Zi Daoyang's grim fate.

Little Rascal, already roused by Purgatory's ominous screech, prepared for an agile escape. Shrinking to his ordinary size, he braced for the impending onslaught. The devilish saber struck the protective barrier, teetering on the brink of decimation. A thunderous detonation echoed as the formidable force rent the formation asunder. In a hair's breadth, Little Rascal narrowly dodged decapitation, evading the savage descent of the blade by a mere fraction of an inch.

—BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!— A surge of indomitable auras surged forth from the Qin Sect's disciples, drawn like a magnet toward Little Rascal's peril. Yet, the enigmatic figure in the shrouded robe descended, his saber arcing once more in an inexorable assault. Darkness spilled forth, and with a swift sleight of paw, Little Rascal conjured a protective talisman. Arcane runes materialized into a formidable golden barrier, an emblem of formidable defense, standing resolute in defiance of the approaching blade.

Qin Wentian and his intrepid comrades had scoured the City of Ancient Emperors, vanquishing countless adversaries and claiming their interspatial rings as spoils. With an arsenal of treasures at their disposal, it was second nature for them to possess protective relics. Yet, the ferocity of the devil saber proved overwhelming. The golden rampart faltered and succumbed, cleaved asunder with a single malevolent sweep. An anguished roar surged forth from Little Rascal as he metamorphosed into a majestic golden-winged great roc, rocketing away with a celerity akin to a streak of lightning, an act of sheer survival.