The Grand Hall of Judgement.
Once a place of sacred decisions and righteous law, now trembled under the weight of a single name whispered by every disciple: Van Thien Phong.
At the center of the hall, dozens of elders sat in a crescent formation, their robes gleaming with emblems of status and sect power. The sect master himself—Mo Tianyuan, a late-stage Nascent Soul cultivator—rested on the highest throne, fingers tapping the stone armrest.
Before them, stood the young man who had shattered the sect's calm with a single act of murder.
Van Thien Phong.
Unchained. Unapologetic. Unafraid.
> "Van Thien Phong," Mo Tianyuan's voice echoed, calm yet cold. "You murdered a fellow disciple. Struck down Elder Bai. Do you deny these charges?"
Phong looked up, his expression blank. Calm… too calm.
> "Deny?" He smirked. "I claim them."
Gasps erupted.
One of the elders slammed the table. "You insolent brat! This isn't courage—it's arrogance!"
> "No," Phong said, stepping forward, eyes sharp like twin blades. "You think I should regret it. But you weren't the one being fed dirt every day. Beaten, ridiculed, treated like a beast. All under your righteous law."
> "You didn't protect me. You never saw me. But the moment I fought back, suddenly you care?"
A silence fell, suffocating and heavy. Some elders avoided his gaze.
> "I was a dog in your eyes. Now I'm a wolf—and you fear I might bite."
Suddenly—Mo Tianyuan raised a hand.
The spiritual pressure that descended was like the heavens collapsing. Most Foundation Establishment disciples would be flattened by it.
But Van Thien Phong stood still.
Not shaking.
Not struggling.
Just smiling.
> "You're suppressing me?" he asked softly. "Then let me show you…"
He raised a single hand—and dark energy surged from his palm. Not the usual spiritual qi, but something else.
Something ancient. Forbidden.
> Demonic Qi.
The hall exploded in shouts. Elders rose to their feet. Some drew weapons.
> "He practices demonic arts?!"
> "He's tainted!"
Mo Tianyuan's eyes narrowed. "You dare taint our sacred grounds with the demonic path?"
> "Sacred?" Phong laughed, a deep, cold laugh that echoed through the walls.
"There is nothing sacred about a system that rewards silence and punishes survival."
He lifted both hands, and the black qi formed into the shape of a massive serpent coiling behind him—eyes glowing crimson.
> "You call me a sinner?"
> "Then let me show you what a real villain looks like."
And as the serpent hissed, the Grand Hall's pillars began to crack.
Suddenly—before chaos could erupt—a powerful presence entered the room. Silent, graceful.
It was Ye Qianying.
Now unveiled, her silver hair flowed like silk, her robes laced with shadow runes.
> "You made quite the speech," she said, stepping beside him. "But you forgot one thing."
> "Villains… don't walk alone."
Gasps echoed again.
Two heretics. Standing before the righteous.
One smirking. One smiling coldly.
And thus, the sect learned:
> Today was not a trial.
It was a declaration of war.