The Ascent

Zhang Xiaofan had always been an enigma, even to himself. Born into obscurity, his journey through the Chengtian Continent was one of defiance against the chains of fate. Though his heart was cold and his demeanor unyielding, his brilliance as a cultivator set him apart. He had mastered arts considered lost to time—formations that could twist the heavens, shadow magic that consumed the light, and now, a power that allowed him to summon shodow of snake, courtesy of a mysterious ring he had found in the Abyss.

Two years before his departure from the Shadow Embrace, Xiaofan had been sent on a mission into the Abyss, a treacherous chasm where reality itself was unstable. The Abyss was said to house treasures of unimaginable power but also dangers that devoured even the mightiest cultivators.

In its depths, amidst ruins older as the Chengtian Continent itself, Xiaofan had discovered the ring. It was unassuming at first glance—a dull black band inscribed with ancient runes. But the moment he touched it, he felt a surge of power unlike anything he had ever encountered. The ring allowed him to assume the form of a serpent—a being of crimson scales and boundless strength.

Yet, it was no mere trinket. The ring whispered to him, its voice ancient and commanding. It was a fragment of an inheritance from an entity long forgotten by history. Xiaofan knew that such power came at a price, but he took the risk, seeing it as a tool for survival in a world where strength was the only currency.

After leaving the Shadow Embrace, Xiaofan wandered aimlessly, seeking purpose and power. His path was fraught with danger, but it was also rich with opportunity.

It was a cold, overcast morning when Zhang Xiaofan, having wandered into the mountains of the Eastern Wilderness, came across a small village in ruins. The village, once vibrant and full of life, now lay decimated. The scent of smoke still lingered in the air, and the villagers had been either slaughtered or captured. The cause was clear—an attack by the Iron Fang Sect, a ruthless faction known for their brutal methods of controlling the land.

The Iron Fang Sect was infamous for their bloodthirsty leadership. The sect's ruler, Yan Mo, was a man whose cruelty knew no bounds. His sect was built upon fear and domination, controlling entire regions by enslaving villages and forcing them to mine rare resources or serve in their battle-hardened ranks. Anyone who defied them was met with swift and merciless punishment. Those who survived the punishment were turned into unwilling pawns in their schemes.

Zhang Xiaofan's initial encounter with the sect came when he witnessed the aftermath of their raid on the village. The bodies of villagers littered the streets, their eyes wide open in terror, some of them marked with the scars of torture. A few survivors—young women and elderly men—were being herded into carts, destined to be shipped off to the Iron Fang Sect's headquarters for labor.

This vision of unrelenting cruelty stirred something in Xiaofan. It wasn't compassion—no, his heart was as cold as ever. But this type of tyranny had no place in the world, not when there was power to be taken and used. And he, Zhang Xiaofan, was no stranger to power.

Xiaofan was no ordinary cultivator. His knowledge extended far beyond the conventional path. His mastery over sword, array formations, and his ability to wield powerful artifacts gave him an edge that few could match. He wasn't going to rush into this battle head-on. He needed to strike where it would hurt the most, destabilizing the sect from within before engaging in direct conflict.

He spent several days in the village, studying the landscape and gathering information from the survivors. He learned that the Iron Fang Sect had a hidden base deep in the mountains, shielded by powerful formations and protected by an army of elite warriors. These warriors were merciless and skilled, but Xiaofan's most valuable information came from the survivors who spoke of a single weakness: Yan Mo's arrogance. The Iron Fang leader had a weakness for flashy displays of power, often flaunting his strength in front of his subordinates to maintain control. This arrogance was both his strength and his undoing. He has already reached 1st star of Do dou shi.

Xiaofan also knew that direct confrontation with the sect's elite warriors would be costly. Instead, he would use his skills in formation magic to create an opening—a chance to undermine the sect's leadership and sow disarray among their ranks.

The first step was to destabilize the foundation of the Iron Fang Sect. Xiaofan used his mastery of formations to trap one of the sect's supply caravans deep in the forest. The caravan, carrying both supplies and prisoners, was surrounded by a series of invisible arrays that left the guards disoriented and confused.

Xiaofan moved like a shadow. His serpentine formed shadow allowed him to glide between the trees undetected, and the shadow magic he wielded made him seem like nothing more than a flicker in the night. He struck swiftly, cutting down the guards one by one. The prisoners were freed, but they weren't just any prisoners—they were former soldiers who had been conscripted into the sect. With their help, Xiaofan set up a trap to draw the attention of the sect's patrols.

Over the next few days, Xiaofan created chaos in the Iron Fang Sect's supply lines. He sabotaged their equipment, misled their scouts, and attacked key outposts at night. Every strike was swift, and every retreat was silent. The once-feared sect began to show signs of vulnerability, their soldiers growing paranoid and disorganized.

Word soon reached Yan Mo. The sect leader, who had once commanded fear in his ranks, was now struggling to control his empire. His arrogance was now his greatest weakness, and it made him reckless. He ordered an immediate counterstrike, sending his elite warriors to hunt down the mysterious saboteur.

The final confrontation took place in the Iron Fang Sect's mountain stronghold. Yan Mo, angered and humiliated, waited for Xiaofan at the sect's inner sanctum—a grand hall carved from the stone of the mountainside, adorned with trophies from his many conquests. But Xiaofan had prepared for this moment for days. He with he is only 8 star dou shi level and his opponent is stronger.

Yan Mo stood at the center of the hall, flanked by his elite warriors, his armor glinting in the dim light. He was a towering figure, a man built like a mountain, his presence suffocating and oppressive. But Xiaofan was not intimidated. He knew that this fight would not be won through brute force but through cunning.

"You've been a nuisance," Yan Mo growled, his voice filled with venom. "But it ends here. No one crosses the Iron Fang Sect and lives."

Xiaofan's lips curled into a faint smile. "You've miscalculated, Yan Mo. Your reign ends today."

With that, the battle began.

Xiaofan didn't rush in recklessly. He used his shadow magic to manipulate the terrain, creating illusions to disorient his enemies. He summoned swirling vortexes of darkness to confuse and separate Yan Mo's warriors, picking them off one by one. His formations, invisible yet deadly, turned the very ground beneath the sect members into a deadly trap.

As the elite warriors fell, Yan Mo's fury grew. He swung his massive sword in a wide arc, sending shockwaves through the hall, but Xiaofan was always one step ahead, slipping into the shadows before the blow could land. He could see Yan Mo's arrogance begin to turn into frustration. The sect leader was no longer the confident tyrant, but a desperate man struggling to regain control.

Finally, Xiaofan confronted Yan Mo face-to-face, their powers clashing in a thunderous explosion. Yan Mo's raw strength was overwhelming, but Xiaofan's agility and strategic thinking allowed him to gain the upper hand. Using his shadow serpent technique, Xiaofan struck with blinding speed, his strike piercing through the opening in Yan Mo's defense.

The battle ended with Yan Mo on the ground, his pride shattered and his life slipping away. Xiaofan stood over him, his expression as cold as ever.

"It's over," Xiaofan said quietly. "Your reign of terror ends here."

With Yan Mo's death, the Iron Fang Sect lost its grip on the region. The survivors scattered, their will broken, and the villages once enslaved by the sect were freed. Xiaofan didn't stay to witness the aftermath. His mission had been accomplished, and the next step in his journey awaited.

In the weeks that followed, the region experienced a strange sense of liberation. The people, once crushed beneath the Iron Fang Sect's rule, began to rebuild their lives. Xiaofan's role in the destruction of the sect became legend—though his true identity was shrouded in mystery. The villagers spoke of a shadowy figure who had come from the darkness and struck down their oppressors, but no one knew his name.

For Xiaofan, the victory was a calculated step in his broader quest for power. His actions were not born out of mercy but from his desire to carve a path through a world of chaos and violence. He had proven that strength could be wielded without mercy, and that the powerful could be brought to heel. Yet, in the silence that followed his success, Xiaofan couldn't ignore the underlying truth: his journey was far from over. There were greater threats ahead, and his path to would require even more cunning and strength than he had displayed thus far.

But for now, the Iron Fang Sect was no more. The people had been freed, and Xiaofan's reputation as a shadowy avenger grew—along with the whispers that followed in his wake.