đ Midnight â Jiang Clan Grand Hall
The hall trembled under the weight of silence, a silence not born from peace, but from the pressure that comes before a storm.
Jiang Chen stepped forward, each stride deliberate, as if the earth bowed to his will. The echoes of his footfalls rang out like war drums through the polished stone of the Jiang Clan's ancestral chamber.
Around him, elders watched, some with fear, some with fury, but none with courage enough to meet his gaze. They had seen the smoke from the southern walls, had heard the whispers of his victory over the Ironbone Sect's envoy.
And now, the man they once called "cripple" dared accuse an elderâopenly.
It was unheard of.
It was blasphemy.
It was⊠inevitable.
"I know what you tried," Jiang Chen said coldly, fixing Elder Mo with a gaze that felt like spiritual chains tightening around his neck. "Your little attempt to poison me may have killed a servant, but not me."
"You dareâ!" Elder Mo began, but his voice faltered as Jiang Chen raised a finger.
The gesture alone released a wave of soul pressure that swept across the chamber like a typhoon. Several junior disciples collapsed instantly, clutching their heads, blood streaming from their ears.
Elder Mo's spiritual shield barely held.
"You forget," Jiang Chen said softly, "I am no longer beneath you."
---
đ©ž Inner Hall â Aftermath of the Feast
That night, no elder slept easy.
Jiang Chen had not formally accused Mo. Not yet. He didn't need to.
He simply waited.
He knew fear was more potent than accusation.
While the elders whispered and plotted, Jiang Chen moved like a shadow through the clan grounds, tracing hidden channels, activating long-sealed formations, and reconstructing the sect's forgotten defenses.
In the dark, he uncovered what they never wanted him to find.
---
đ Secret Records Pavilion â Hidden Vault
The scroll was sealed beneath twelve layers of divine ink, each rune requiring a specific soul frequency to open.
Jiang Chen tore through them like paper.
Inside, he found a dossierâold, brittle parchment bearing blood seals. It listed the names of every contact the Jiang Clan had made in the past hundred years.
Elder Mo's name was listed six times under a single recurring banner:
> Radiant Heaven Sect â External Supply Agent: Mo Liang
His fingers tightened.
> "So you were feeding them information⊠long before I ever returned."
More than a traitor.
A planted spy.
The Radiant Heaven Sect was led by none other than Fei Rongâone of the three who had slaughtered him in his past life.
The pieces clicked together.
> Elder Mo had always been part of the plan to prevent his rise.
> But now⊠he would pay the price.
---
đ„ Jiang Clan Training Grounds â Next Morning
Jiang Chen stood in the middle of the training arena.
The sky above was grey, clouds heavy with tension. Inner sect disciples gathered in nervous silence, forming a wide circle.
In front of them stood Elder Mo, his arms crossed, face set in stone.
"I do not recognize your right to challenge me," he said loudly. "I am a Core Elder. You are barely Foundation Establishment."
"I don't need recognition," Jiang Chen replied. "Only your head."
A ripple of shock passed through the crowd.
Mo's eyes flashed. "So be it."
---
âïž Duel of Judgment
The battle began with thunder.
Elder Mo summoned a storm of wind blades, laced with spirit qi, enough to shred a normal cultivator in an instant.
But Jiang Chen walked through them.
The blades twisted in midair, bending around him as if repelled by an invisible dome.
> "You... nullified my technique?!"
Jiang Chen didn't answer. He raised his hand, drawing a sigil in the air with his finger.
A single glyph glowedâSoul Seal: Tyrant Flame Lotus.
A violet lotus bloomed between themâserene, beautiful⊠and lethal.
Mo launched a barrage of fire talismans, hoping to interrupt the spell.
Too late.
The lotus detonated.
The ground beneath Mo cracked and exploded, sending him flying into the arena wall. His robes burned away. Blood spilled from his mouth.
He roseâbarelyâspitting teeth.
"You're a demon," he coughed. "You don't belong here!"
Jiang Chen stepped forward, golden runes swirling in his pupils.
> "You're right. I don't belong below worms like you."
He launched forward, fist glowing with condensed Soul Qiânot just his, but drawn from the very spiritual well of the sect.
> He had turned the Jiang Clan's ancestral roots into his weapon.
---
The punch connected.
Not just with Mo's chest, but with his soul core.
Mo screamed as his meridians shattered, his soul shuddering under the weight of annihilation. His cultivation crumbled before the gathered sect.
He collapsed in the dust.
Alive. Barely.
Broken. Completely.
---
đ Aftermath
Jiang Chen turned to the stunned crowd.
"I will not tolerate snakes in my home," he declared. "I will not kneel to tradition, nor elders who fear their own shadows."
"You will follow me."
"Or leave."
No one spoke.
No one dared.
Even the Clan Head, watching from the high tower, said nothing.
In that silence, the sect bentânot in defeat, but in recognition.
> The Tyrant had claimed his first throne.
---
đ Later That Night â Eastern Chamber
Jiang Chen sat in deep meditation.
The battle had pushed his spiritual core to its edgeâand broken it open.
Now, within his dantian, a new formation glowedâthe second layer of the Ninefold Soul Destruction Art.
It had unlocked something ancient.
A memory from his past lifeâŠ
> A hidden chamber beneath the Void Path Sect.
A map. A seal. A name:
> The Obsidian Moon Tomb.
A resting place of ancient immortals.
Sealed for ten thousand years.
Rumored to contain a soul flame that could grant true godhood.
And Jiang Chen?
He would claim it.