Asura Fusion, Azure Omen

Xiao Ning exhaled slowly, as if a great weight had been lifted from his chest.

He hadn't been certain it would work. But it had.

After stripping away all traces of Li Fang's former cultivation and erasing the remnants of his original nascent soul, he had fully merged his own divine consciousness into the soul vessel. From this moment on, this body—and its soul—belonged to him alone.

A crisp, mechanical chime echoed in his mind.

> [Lifespan Update Detected]

[Remaining Lifespan: 473 / 2000 years]

[Increase Granted: +1233 years]

Seeing the numbers, Xiao Ning's lips curled into a faint smile. This… was the kind of notification he welcomed.

"Let's see the current status."

[Name]: Xiao Ning

[Qi Cultivation]: Nascent Soul Realm – Late Stage

[Body Refining]: Fourth Grade – Late Stage

[Lifespan]: 473 / 2000 years

As his gaze swept over the information, Xiao Ning suddenly laughed aloud. It was deep and brimming with satisfaction.

"Excellent. It's official now—Xiao Ning has truly returned!"

 ***

Far to the east, nestled among the clouds and cliffs of the Azure Cloud Mountain Ranges, stood one of the most powerful sects in the entire Violet Sea World.

The Azure Dragon Sect.

Alongside the infamous Bone Forging Sect, it held sway over half the world. It was the unshakable pillar of the Righteous Sects Alliance and a name that carried weight even in the highest heavens.

The Azure Cloud Ranges themselves were sacred. Their craggy peaks rose like spears into the sky, wrapped in silver mist that never dispersed. The very air shimmered with cerulean qi, so dense it looked like liquid starlight drifting between the mountains. Cultivators who lived here needed no pills or elixirs to advance—merely breathing was enough to extend one's life and refine one's body.

This heaven-sent environment was not naturally formed.

Atop the highest summit stood the Azure Pagoda. Within it, the founder of the sect—Daoist Azure Cloud—had remained in seclusion for centuries, guarding the spiritual veins beneath the mountain. A cultivator of the Heavenly Tribulation Realm, his presence alone stabilized the entire region. It was said that when he opened his eyes, clouds would scatter and thunder would kneel.

The sect's architecture reflected its grandeur. Towering pavilions of deep indigo stone pierced the clouds, their walls inlaid with dragon-shaped runes that glowed faintly at night. Courtyards filled with jade statues, ancient formations, and spirit herb gardens stretched for miles. The Azure Dragon emblem—three dragons coiled around a luminous pearl—was emblazoned on every banner and gate.

Disciples in indigo robes filled the outer sect like a rising tide, their blades flashing in synchronized training beneath cascading waterfalls of qi. The inner sect was quieter, solemn. Only cultivators who had formed their core could enter its halls—where dao texts floated in midair and every breath was steeped in ancient insight.

But the core region…

That was hidden. Floating palaces and sealed valleys existed there, where only Nascent Soul cultivators or those granted special permission could step. It was the beating heart of the Azure Dragon Sect.

And in one of its most secluded meditation halls, a young man sat cross-legged in silence.

His name was Jiang Chen.

His cobalt-blue robe shimmered faintly, embroidered with shifting constellations. A personal gift from Daoist Azure Cloud himself. His face was calm, almost plain at first glance—but his eyes held a depth that made others instinctively lower their gaze.

He had come to the sect as nothing more than a homeless orphan.

His clan—the once-noble Jiang Clan—had been exterminated to the last by the Shadowclaw Sect. He alone had survived. For decades, he cultivated in silence, swallowing his hatred like bitter wine. He climbed from Foundation Establishment to Core Formation, and now stood at the Nascent Soul Realm, ranked among the world's most promising elites and with highest chance to reach the Divine Transformation Realm.

But now… something threatened to crack the calm surface of his life.

In his hand was a jade scroll.

He had found it outside his abode earlier that morning—laid on the threshold as if by invisible hands. Its surface bore a single blood-red seal: a withered claw, twisted and lifelike, etched so finely that the veins beneath seemed to pulse faintly.

The emblem of the Shadowclaw Sect.

A chill crept down his spine.

How could this have appeared within the core region of the Azure Dragon Sect?

Even a Nascent Soul cultivator would have no way of entering unnoticed. Which meant… someone from within had brought it in.

His divine sense brushed against the jade scroll. In an instant, the contents poured into his mind like molten iron.

"If you wish to know the identity of the one who ordered your Jiang Clan's extermination, come to Sound Soul Valley in three days."

Jiang Chen's breath caught. The words stabbed through him like a blade.

A memory surged forth like a tidal wave—unbidden, but all-consuming.

The sky above the Jiang Clan estate had not been blue that day.

It was fire.

Crimson flames rolled across the heavens, devouring clouds and choking the air with smoke thick enough to drown in. The protective formation that had guarded their ancestral grounds for generations flickered—then shattered with a deafening crack, its fragments raining down like shards of glass.

His father stood at the center of the chaos, bloodied and defiant.

His father, once revered as a Core Formation elder of unmatched insight, now staggered beneath the weight of a dozen wounds. His robes were scorched, his spiritual aura flickering, and yet he stood tall—one arm raised, trying to hold back the enemy.

"Run!"

And then the spear struck.

It pierced his back and burst from his chest in a gout of blood and light.

Jiang Chen, just fourteen at the time, had screamed—but the sound drowned beneath the destruction sound.

From behind, his mother grabbed his shoulders. Her fingers were trembling, but her voice was clear filled with love and compassion.

"Don't look. Don't stop. You must live."

Then came the shriek of a dragonstone charm shattering—a last-resort talisman, only used when death was certain.

He turned back just in time to see her silhouette vanish beneath falling debris, swallowed by fire.

The screams, the crashing walls, the howling of the wind—and then…

Silence.

A silence so absolute, it rang in his ears long after the chaos faded.

He had run that day, barefoot and blood-slicked, through a tunnel his father carved moments before death.

He didn't cry, not until the wind outside the valley turned cold, and the stars no longer looked like home.

He clenched his fists and forced the memory down, continuing to read.

"You must come alone. Speak of this to no one. Do not reveal the contents of this scroll."

"If any term is broken, the meeting will be cancelled."

At the end was a name etched in blood-red script: Mie Lin, Sect Master of the Shadowclaw Sect.

Jiang Chen's eyes narrowed to slits.

For years, he had suspected the Shadowclaw Sect did not act alone. The destruction of the Jiang Clan had been too precise, too well-timed. He'd tortured rogue cultivators, bribed informants, even infiltrated the Shadowclaw Sect himself—yet never uncovered the true mastermind.

Now, with their sect in decline and their master dead, they were reaching out.

Desperation?

Or a trap?

He considered it. If they wished to kill him, there were easier ways. Attacking a Nascent Soul cultivator of the Azure Dragon Sect would invite annihilation. Even the Shadowclaw Sect of the past couldn't afford such a move.

Unless… someone still wanted to silence the truth.

His fingers tightened around the jade scroll until the corners dug into his palm.

Let them try.

If this was a trap, he'd turn it on them.

And if it wasn't…

He would finally uncover the truth behind his clan's annihilation—and repay the debt in full.

With interest.