Chapter 6: The Forbidden Seal

The temple ruins trembled under the weight of something ancient awakening. The blackened blade pulsed with a deep, malevolent hunger, its presence pressing against my soul.

The sealing talismans flickered faintly, their golden inscriptions struggling against the overwhelming demonic resonance between the sword and the Crimson Veil.

But they still held firm.

I took a step closer, feeling the sheer pressure radiating from the sword. It was calling to me, yearning for release, but the divine bindings refused to break.

"You hesitate," the Crimson Veil whispered, its voice smooth, taunting. "Do you fear what lies beyond the seal?"

I exhaled, gaze steady. "No," I said. "I just don't know how to break it."

The Veil chuckled darkly.

"Then listen well, child of darkness," it purred. "These seals were crafted by the righteous sects, designed to suppress demonic artifacts for eternity. Their faith is what binds it. Their fear is what keeps it caged."

I narrowed my eyes. "Then how do I destroy their faith?"

A pause. Then the Veil's voice dropped into a low murmur, as if revealing a secret that had been buried for centuries.

"To break a holy seal, you must corrupt it."

"Divine talismans draw their strength from purity—righteous energy, faith, and the unwavering belief of their creators. But like all things, faith can be tainted."

I glanced at the pulsing inscriptions. "And how do I do that?"

The Veil's voice slithered into my mind like silk.

"Desecrate it."

"Smear the seals with blood, fill this place with hatred, and taint the very air with sin. Let the sword drink of fresh death, and the seals will unravel like a rotting corpse."

I rolled my fingers into a fist, considering the method. It made sense. Holy energy could be defiled—just as monks feared demons, just as temples fell to darkness when left abandoned.

And I had plenty of corpses outside to work with.

I turned back to the ruins of the village, my eyes glinting with cruel amusement.

"This… might be fun."

The Crimson Veil's whispers coiled around my mind, filling the air with a sinister clarity.

"Desecrate the seals, Wuyuan. Let the essence of the fallen erode the righteousness that binds this blade."

I turned away from the sealed sword, stepping back toward the ruins of the damned village. The air still reeked of blood and death, the remnants of my earlier slaughter.

Scattered bodies lay twisted in grotesque angles, their eyes frozen in expressions of horror. Their lifeforce was already mine, devoured to push me to the pinnacle of Mortal Stage, but their corpses… they still had purpose.

I knelt beside one of the freshest bodies, pressing my palm against its cooling flesh. Dark qi surged from my core, twisting into tendrils that slithered into the corpse like living shadows.

The body twitched.

Slowly, its arms lifted in a jagged motion, its once lifeless fingers now clawed and stiff.

"Good," the Veil purred. "Raise them. Let their unwilling hands defile the very seals meant to keep our kind imprisoned."

I repeated the process, raising several more of the fresh dead, their limbs now puppets under my will.

With a flick of my wrist, I sent them staggering forward toward the temple ruins. Their rotting fingers, still stained with their own blood, reached for the golden talismans adorning the blackened rock.

The moment their tainted flesh met the seals—

A hiss filled the air.

The talismans shuddered, their divine glow flickering as if struggling against some unseen force.

"Yes," the Veil murmured, its voice filled with satisfaction. "Holy inscriptions cannot withstand corruption. Keep going."

I walked forward, raising my own bloodstained hands, and pressed my palm against the largest seal.

The moment my touch met the talisman, an unholy pulse erupted from my core. Demonic energy surged through my arm, pouring into the seal like black ink staining pure water.

The golden inscriptions dimmed, their once brilliant radiance darkening into a dull crimson.

The divine script twisted—then fractured.

A sharp crack split through the air, and the first talisman shattered into ash.

The temple trembled.

"More," the Veil commanded. "Corrupt them all."

I moved with purpose, my fingers tearing into each remaining seal, my corrupted aura pouring into every divine inscription.

The talismans weakened, their holy resistance breaking under the relentless assault of death and darkness.

One by one, they crumbled, until at last—

A deep, guttural roar erupted from the sealed sword.

The very earth shook, and the blackened rock began to crack apart, unveiling a blade so twisted in malevolence that the very air around it distorted.

The ancient demonic sword was waking.

And I was ready to claim it.

The moment my fingers wrapped around the sword's hilt, a pulse of ancient malice erupted from within, shaking the very foundation of the ruins.

The blackened rock crumbled entirely, sending up a cloud of dust, but my focus remained locked on the blade now resting in my grasp.

It was colder than ice, yet its presence burned with a dark hunger, as if it had been starved for centuries and now, at last, had found someone worthy of wielding it.

As I lifted the sword, a wave of immense killing intent surged through me, pressing down on my shoulders like a mountain of slaughtered souls.

And then—

A line of ancient runes ignited across the blade's surface.

They glowed with a deep crimson hue, shifting and morphing until they formed three distinct characters in an archaic script.

Heaven's End.

The moment the name fully revealed itself, the Crimson Veil stirred, its voice carrying a tone of unmasked reverence.

"Heaven's End… I never imagined I would witness its return."

My grip tightened around the hilt as the runes pulsed, sending a flood of memories—not mine, but the sword's—directly into my mind.

A vision unfolded before me—

A battlefield drenched in blood.

Mountains of corpses—not just mortals, but cultivators, demons, and even celestial beings.

At the heart of the carnage, a lone figure stood, clad in black armor, wielding this very sword.

With a single swing, the sky split apart, divine palaces collapsed, and entire realms fell into ruin.

The heavens themselves shuddered in fear of this blade.

I exhaled sharply as the vision faded, leaving only the echo of its truth—

This was no ordinary demonic weapon.

Heaven's End was a blade forged to slay gods.

"Do you understand now, Wuyuan?" the Crimson Veil's voice was almost a whisper, yet it held the weight of an inevitable fate. "This sword was never meant for the weak. It does not serve; it chooses."

The runes shifted once more, revealing a final inscription:

"The blade is masterless until baptized in the blood of the unworthy."

I could feel it now—the sword was testing me.

It had accepted my touch, but it had not yet acknowledged me as its master.

"Then I will make it recognize me."

I turned away from the altar, eyes settling on the scattered corpses of the villagers I had slain.

A smirk tugged at my lips.

If blood was the price, then I would offer far more than necessary.

With a flick of my wrist, I lowered the blade—and began carving a path to my ascendancy.