Raven, once an innocent and kind-hearted boy, had his fate altered the day he saved a demonic cultivator from certain death. In gratitude, the cultivator handed Raven a copy of his dark and powerful cultivation art, the Art of the Dead Walker. With this forbidden knowledge in hand, Raven''s life took a drastic turn.@@@@

    Initially, Raven''s heart still held a semblance of his former self. He practiced the art in secret, marveling at the power it bestowed upon him. He even became hia own village hero as he used the powers to protect his village from beast many times. However, as he delved deeper into its mysteries, the darkness of the cultivation method began to corrupt his soul.

    The innocent boy was slowly replaced by a man drunk on power, a man who got lost in the darkness within.

    Raven''s transformation was swift and ruthless. No longer the kind-hearted savior, he slaughtered the strong men of his village, asserting his dominance and declaring himself the leader. The village, once a place of peace, became a macabre settlement under his rule, earning him the title of the Dead Village Chief.

    For years, Raven kept a low profile, shrouding his village in secrecy while he meticulously honed his abilities. He advanced steadily through the ranks, reaching the level of Spirit Grandmaster. His power grew, but so did his arrogance. Stay connected with My Virtual Library Empire

    His downfall began when he laid eyes on a passing beauty, a disciple from a prominent sect. Raven, driven by desire and overconfidence, captured her and made her his slave. He underestimated the consequences of his actions. The moment she went missing, her sect issued a search warrant. The sect''s members, and her friends, relentlessly traced her disappearance back to Raven.

    They surrounded his village, leaving him with no escape. Desperate to survive, Raven resorted to a forbidden technique, burning his own life energy to escape. This drastic act saved his life but at a great cost. The once handsome and vigorous young man was now a broken old man with a bent body, his vitality drained.

    Now, in the present time, Raven stood before Aiden and his party. In his short life, he had encountered many demonic cultivators who walked the same dark path as him, but he had never seen anyone like Aiden. He looked at Aiden''s creation with a mix of horror and noticeable greed in his eyes.

    He gulped and rubbed his hands together like a shady merchant. "Young Master, why didn''t you tell me you are also a demonic cultivator? Hahaha, there is no need for us to fight," he said, retracting his flesh golem back into his gourd.

    Aiden eyed the strange gourd and asked directly, "Hmm, what is that gourd?"

    Raven looked at his gourd and replied, "This, young master?"

    Aiden nodded, and Raven began to explain. "This is my Natal Artifact, called Thousands Mourning Grave. It can store my underlings, heal them, and even help them advance in ranks if I provide enough nourishment," Raven said proudly.

    "Where did you get it?" Aiden asked, knowing from its functions that this old man likely hadn''t crafted it himself but had simply bound it as his Natal Artifact.

    ''Well, I surely can''t tell him I killed my master to get it,'' Raven thought, knowing that even among demonic cultivators, attacking one''s own master without a valid reason was taboo.

    "I got it by robbing a tomb," Raven said, thinking, ''Well, it''s not wrong since my master is lying in a grave now.''

    Aiden looked at the old man and then told him to get ready for the fight.

    "Young Master, I don''t think it''s necessary. You are obviously strong," Raven said flatteringly.

    Aiden rubbed his chin and then said, "How about I add a bet then? If you win, I will give you ten of those crystals I used to make him," Aiden said, patting the Ancient Dullahan.

    Raven gulped at hearing Aiden''s offer but then controlled his greed and asked, "What if I lose, young master?"

    "How boring," Aiden''s cold voice reached his ears, scaring the life out of him.

    ''Oh shit, did I offend him by losing so easily?'' Raven thought, sweating profusely.

    "Young master, give me one more chance," he pleaded.

    Aiden nodded, and the Dullahan returned to his side.

    Aiden looked at the Dullahan and said, "We will not kill him so easily."

    The Dullahan didn''t reply and just stood by Aiden.

    Raven, standing up, twisted his ring, and many grotesque-looking undead appeared in front of him.

    Aiden looked at them and thought, ''All of them are just different kinds of zombies.''

    "Young master, we can start now," Raven said, thinking, ''If I use all of my collections, I can surely tackle his for some time.'' But then he paled as he saw each of his creations dying one by one with just a single punch from the black-armored Dead Walker of the white-haired kid.

    "As expected of young master, I can never match your level," Raven said flatteringly, racking his brain to get out of this situation.

    Aiden tilted his head to him and then told the Dullahan to amputate his limbs too.

    The Dullahan, who was one-punching all the zombies, stopped. Its skull flame flickered and grew even larger.

    "Roarrrrrrrrr!"

    The Dullahan unleashed a massive roar that sent all the zombies flying, while the black flames accompanying its roar burned all the zombies to dust.

    It reached the old man swiftly, grabbed his limbs, and tore them off forcefully.

    Seeing this, Raven invoked his spirit—a farmer''s scythe appeared in his hands. He tried to swing it at the Dullahan, but the Dullahan grabbed both his hands and tore them off his body.

    Raven screamed in agony, blood spurting from the stumps where his arms used to be. His scythe clattered to the ground, useless. The pain and terror were overwhelming, and he realized too late that he had underestimated the young master and his terrifying creation.

    Aiden watched with cold indifference. "How boring," he repeated, his voice icy. "You had your chance, and you squandered it."

    Raven''s vision blurred from the pain and blood loss, and he could barely form coherent thoughts. ''This... this can''t be happening,'' he thought as darkness began to close in on him.