Killing Intent (Part One)

The tacit approval from the four major factions granted the Sword Domain a brief period of respite. During this time, Feng Yunwuji imparted the first three levels of the Intentional Sword Body Technique to thousands of Sword Pavilion warriors before entering seclusion to recuperate.

The third floor of the Sword Pavilion was known to all as the lord's private retreat for rest and meditation. Every day, at the stroke of midnight, sword intent surged wildly throughout the third floor, emanating an overwhelming aura of dominance and majesty that left everyone in awe. What puzzled everyone even more was that alongside the sword qi, a fierce, turbulent demonic energy also roiled—almost as if two powerful forces were dueling within the same space.

Everyone was dying to know what was going on, but no one dared to ask. Only Chi Shang seemed to have a vague understanding that his master harbored some secret that was not meant to be revealed.

On the polished floor, Feng Yunwuji sat like an old monk in deep meditation, yet within his consciousness raged a tempest, far from the outward calm.

The Star-Absorbing Technique was undeniably powerful but came with clear side effects. In his mind, Feng Yunwuji conjured a humanoid figure to face relentless attacks from various martial formulas—over 360,000 demonic spells—representing all the masters he had ever encountered, including his own Nine Revolutions of Life and Death and Intentional Sword Body Technique. For most, mastering even one of these vast martial arts formulas would be a dream beyond reach, but for Feng Yunwuji, they were at his fingertips, effortless and routine.

Every time the Star-Absorbing Technique was broken by a new method, Feng Yunwuji spent a long time perfecting and refining it. Originally, it could only absorb power from a single target and struggled with multiple. But after extensive modification, Feng Yunwuji had overcome this limitation, and the absorption speed far surpassed the initial prototype. Yet, a major flaw remained: the technique could only absorb demonic energy, which was a critical weakness. Recently, Feng Yunwuji had been considering integrating the strengths of the Nine Revolutions of Life and Death into the Star-Absorbing Technique.

The Nine Revolutions of Life and Death was extraordinarily profound. To date, only the state of the Sixth Heaven was known, and beyond that, there was complete mystery. Although the technique demanded harsh conditions, the rewards were substantial. What perplexed and amazed Feng Yunwuji the most was that each cycle of life and death allowed the practitioner to break through and be reborn stronger. Essentially, unless one died utterly—heart torn out or chest pierced—it was almost impossible to perish, often resulting in a significant increase in power.

This unique property of the Nine Revolutions of Life and Death went beyond normal martial arts. This baffled Feng Yunwuji the most. Throughout the entire Primordial World, where fatal injuries would be certain death for ordinary people, only this technique allowed survival and rebirth. Countless times since arriving in the Primordial World, Feng Yunwuji had faced life-or-death crises and severe injuries but survived—sometimes by luck, but often thanks to this miraculous art. If not for its extremely demanding cultivation conditions and rare opportunities for advancement, it might have been considered the greatest martial art in all of Primordial World.

Though Feng Yunwuji's mind swirled with many thoughts, his work on perfecting the Star-Absorbing Technique never ceased. From downstairs, faint and steady breathing sounds drifted upward, prompting a small smile—these disciples were the hope he clung to.

Suddenly, a sharp slicing sound cut through the night, followed by distant shouts.

"Senior Sword God! Senior Chi Shang! Save me! …" Shuffling footsteps approached. Half of Feng Yunwuji's divine awareness burst out, sweeping the Sword Pavilion within a thousand meters. A few hundred meters away, a ragged swordsman clad in white clutched his sword, flying toward the pavilion. Deep, jagged claw marks riddled his chest, blood soaking his clothes. Not far behind, dozens of black-clad figures with bat-winged cloaks pursued relentlessly.

"Run? Run where? In this Primordial World, once the Night Clan sets its sights on prey, none ever escape. Hehehe… hahaha…"

The swordsman seemed hopeless. He fell from the sky, dazed, his eyes scanning the darkness until he spotted a towering hundred-meter-high mountain—the very Sword Pavilion he had desperately sought.

"Master Sword God! Save me!" The young swordsman's voice trembled with despair, his dream shattered after ascending to the Immortal Realm and facing relentless trials. Overcome with sorrow, he cried out to the heavens.

"Not running anymore? Hahaha, you should've done that sooner… Brothers, the game's over—we feast now!" As the voice fell, dozens of dark shadows swooped down, their target: the young swordsman.

"Master Sword God!" Those words struck a chord deep within Feng Yunwuji's heart, igniting a surge of fury. He roared, "How dare you insolent wretches!" and shot out through the void.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three loud crashes sounded as the dark figures were struck down just as they were about to seize the swordsman for their gruesome feast—an unexpected obstacle had appeared.

"Who are you? Haven't you heard of the Night Clan's name?" The attackers somersaulted midair, halting angrily.

"Master, please… save my senior brother… they…" The young swordsman gasped, already lifeless. Feng Yunwuji's heart sank. His chest cavity was torn open, his heart missing. The fact he'd arrived here at all was due solely to a powerful mental will.

"Ah!" Feng Yunwuji howled to the sky, killing intent boiling within him for the first time. This young swordsman was unquestionably one of the ascended disciples from the school he had passed down. Yet Feng Yunwuji had watched helplessly as he fell before him—unable to save him!

"I want to kill!" The murderous intent exploded uncontrollably in his chest. With a sharp pop, a torrent of demonic energy burst forth. His long hair writhed like serpents, transforming him into a terrifying demon god.

"Hahaha… so you're one of us after all!" The Night Clan was stunned at first, then one laughed aloud.

"You all, go join my disciple underground!" Feng Yunwuji snarled, his ten fingers snapping as his nails blackened like onyx.

In a flash, Feng Yunwuji became a gust of wind, vanishing into the void.

"No!…" The Night Clan barely registered the danger before Feng Yunwuji reappeared mere meters behind, flashing forward along the young swordsman's path in pursuit. Suddenly, about a dozen Night Clan members staggered, blood streaming down their bodies as chunks of flesh fell away. To their last breath, they never understood how they had died.

"Stay in the Sword Pavilion! I'll be back soon!" Feng Yunwuji's voice echoed through the dark night, laced with ruthless killing intent…