CHAPTER 144: CHAPTER 144 – THE SHADOW BLADE’S TRIAL

The valley-hall created by the castle’s rearrangement still buzzed with low murmurs. Dust drifted in the air like slow-moving fireflies. Cracked stone pillars jutted out at odd angles. Floating platforms glided lazily above the heads of hundreds of cultivators.

All sects. All clans. All rogue groups. Everyone.

Every soul inside the secret realm had been forced into this colossal arena.

The atmosphere was thick— suffocating— quiet in a way that made the heartbeat sound too loud.

Sanatan Flame Sect stood together on a wide stone ledge, their formation tight and disciplined. Lin Shu stood beside Shaurya, her hand wrapped firmly around her sword. Behind them, disciples recovered, checked weapons, secured positions.

Shaurya rolled his shoulders once, letting out a breath.

Lorgann, in his palm-sized molten form, sat on his shoulder with puffed-up annoyance.

At the center of it all—

A floating black platform.

A throne.

And the man seated upon it.

He leaned back slightly, one arm resting on the throne’s armrest, the other hand lazily gripping the hilt of the sword beside him.

Dark robes draped elegantly over his frame. Long black hair fell past his shoulders like flowing shadow. His eyes—cold, steel grey—swept across the gathered forces with bored amusement.

He looked young.

He felt ancient.

The air around him warped subtly— like space itself didn’t dare remain normal in his presence.

Shaurya’s lips curled into a small smirk.

"So," he murmured, voice low.

"Finally decided to show yourself."

Lin Shu stood beside him quietly, one hand resting on her sword, the other near his sleeve.

Lorgann, in his small form, perched on Shaurya’s other shoulder—tiny claws digging into his coat, molten eyes narrowed at the black throne.

All around them, Sanatan Flame Sect disciples stood in high alert. A short distance away, Howling Abyss Sect and Moonlight Pavilion had gathered too, both sets of disciples tensed, unsure whether to bow, attack, or run.

The man on the throne finally spoke.

"Welcome," he said.

His voice was smooth. Calm. Not loud, yet every ear heard him.

"To my realm."

A faint smile tugged at his lips.

"I am Shadow Blade An Ning."

The entire valley seemed to exhale.

Shadow Blade An Ning.

The creator of this secret realm.

The name trembled on tongues.

"Shadow... Blade... An Ning..." someone from a minor sect whispered.

"The one from the old records...?"

"Didn’t he die?"

"Then what is that?"

An Ning ignored the scattered whispers.

He rested his chin lightly against his knuckles, sitting with the relaxed arrogance of someone who hadn’t had a real opponent in a very long time.

"You’ve all survived the shifting corridors," he said.

"You’ve clawed your way past traps, mazes, beasts, and each other."

He chuckled softly.

"Impressive... for this generation."

His tone made at least three sect leaders grit their teeth.

A man from Thunder Valley couldn’t hold back.

"Impressive?" he snapped. "You speak as if we exist to entertain you. Shadow Blade An Ning or not, if you dare to look down on us, then hand over your inheritance and we’ll decide who deserves it!"

Rogue cultivators behind him shouted in support—they’d long since formed temporary deals with Thunder Valley and other sects.

"Yeah!"

"You’re just a remnant!"

"Your era is over!! We’re the ones who rule now!"

"Hand over all treasures and techniques!"

A few other sects stayed quiet, eyes narrowed, calculating.

An Ning’s smile didn’t move.

But the air did.

The temperature didn’t change.

Yet everyone felt colder.

His grey eyes slid toward the shouting cultivator from Thunder Valley.

"Remnant?" he said softly.

The man stiffened.

An Ning raised his free hand lazily.

"Fine. I’ll show you... how much of a remnant I am."

He flicked his fingers.

Just once.

There was no beam. No explosion. No visible technique.

The Thunder Valley cultivator opened his mouth—

—and suddenly dropped to his knees.

THUD.

He gasped.

Hands shook. Blood poured from his nose and ears. His spiritual sea roared like it was being ripped open.

His weapon—an engraved spear—shuddered, then crumbled into dust as if time had devoured it in an instant.

Everyone froze.

"What—?!"

"His weapon—!"

"What is going on?..... Somthing is wrong."

An Ning’s gaze was bored.

"That was just my spritual pressure," he said, like he’d swatted a fly.

"If I used a proper technique... you would no longer exist."

The valley fell silent.

No one shouted about treasures anymore.

Shaurya’s eyes narrowed.

...That didn’t even look like a technique.

It felt more like... rules obeying his will.

Right then—

DING.

A golden screen popped up in Shaurya’s vision.

[System: Host is advised to remain extremely cautious.] [Target Identified: Shadow Blade An Ning] [Realm: Spirit Lord – Level 3]

Shaurya’s pupils shrank.

Spirit Lord Level 3...?

His mind went blank for half a heartbeat.

Spirit Lord—

An entire major realm above Nascent Soul.

He was currently Nascent Soul Level 11 after his recent breakthrough.

Even with Divine Form doubling his effective combat power...

That still only barely brushed the threshold of Spirit Lord Level 2, at best.

And this guy?

Level 3.

Shaurya inhaled slowly.

He muttered in his mind:

System... didn’t An Ning die? Why is he still that powerful?

The System answered calmly.

[System: He did die.] [However, a fragment of his soul remained bound to the core of this realm.] [Over countless years, he reconstructed a physical body and regained part of his cultivation.] [He is currently weaker than at his peak, but still a true Spirit Lord Level 3.]

...So this is him weakened.

Shaurya exhaled.

A small laugh escaped his nose.

Strong.

Ridiculously strong.

Divine Form + all trump cards?

Even then... if they fought here and now, he had very low odds of winning.

His fingers twitched slightly.

"Suicidal," Shaurya muttered.

The system coughed.

[...You said it, not me.]

Shaurya clicked his tongue.

Alright then.

Brawn won’t solve this.

Use brain.

Up on the throne, An Ning shifted his gaze across the hall.

He looked bored.

Almost disappointed.

"As the creator of this realm, I welcome you," he said, tone flat. "You all came for inheritance. My legacy. My techniques. My treasures."

His fingers tapped lightly on the sword hilt.

"Let us see who deserves them."

Suddenly—

A voice rang from the left side of the valley.

An arrogant one.

"Shadow Blade An Ning, huh? Aren’t you supposed to be dead!? How do we know you’re not a fake!?"

A roar of agreement.

"He’s bluffing!" "If this realm is collapsing, his power is probably weak!" "Show us the inheritance or step aside!"

Rogue cultivators had merged with Moonlight Serpent Sect and Iron Wing Clan, forming a rough alliance.

They glared at An Ning with bold, foolish confidence.

An Ning blinked once.

Slow.

Bored.

Then—

He lifted his left hand.

That was all.

Just a slight upward motion.

The entire valley trembled.

B O O M ——

The air cracked apart as pure spiritual pressure exploded downward.

Hundreds of cultivators dropped to one knee. Many collapsed outright. Weapons vibrated uncontrollably. Formation arrays shattered instantly.

The ground itself bent.

Even the floating platforms trembled as if fearing him.

Lin Shu gasped, holding her breath. Wang Tian narrowed his eyes. Elder Feng Yu had to steady his footing. Luo Chen clenched his jaw but stayed upright.

Shaurya didn’t kneel— but he felt it. His entire body shivered.

Lorgann dug his claws into Shaurya’s shoulder.

"Human... THIS is the pressure of a Spirit Lord. Level 3."

Shaurya’s eyebrow twitched.

"Fantastic."

On the throne, An Ning’s gaze swept over the cultivators who mocked him.

They were now trembling like trembling prey.

He lowered his hand.

The pressure vanished—

as if cut by a blade.

Silence.

Then he spoke bluntly:

"Anyone else want to question my authenticity?"

No one answered.

Even the loudest arrogance had died.

Shaurya exhaled slowly.

"Yeah. Definitely need brain here..."

Lorgann nodded seriously.

"I advise you to not anger him."

"Good advice."

Then Shaurya smirked.

"But you know me."

"Human, PLEASE—"

Too late.

Shaurya raised his hand casually.

"Yo. Shadow Blade. Nice intro."

Lin Shu facepalmed.

Every other sect gasped:

"He just—talked casually!?" "Is he insane!?" "Does he want to die!?"

An Ning’s attention shifted to Shaurya.

Grey eyes sharpened. That calm arrogance flickered with curiosity.

Shaurya grinned.

"No offense, but you made a pretty dramatic entrance."

An Ning didn’t reply immediately.

He simply stared.

Long.

Silent.

Judging whether Shaurya was an idiot or interesting.

Finally—

A faint smile tugged at his lips.

"You have spirit."

Shaurya shrugged.

"I get that a lot."

Suddenly—

The entire hall shook violently.

B O O O O O O O O M !!!

Stone cracked. Platforms tilted. Air twisted into spirals.

An Ning raised his left hand into the air.

"You want inheritance?"

His voice boomed.

"Then earn it."

He dropped his hand.

Instantly—

A pulse of dark energy exploded from the throne.

Every wall in the valley split open.

Cracks glowed crimson.

Then—

ROAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR—!!!!!

Bestial cries exploded.

Dark holes tore open in the side walls.

Shattered stone peeled back like broken shell.

Cracks in the ground widened into gaping maws.

From within them, beasts emerged.

Dozens.

Hundreds.

Then thousands.

Some were scaled.

Some furred.

Some made of rock.

Some wrapped in ghostly chains.

All of them radiated killing intent.

"B–Beasts...!"

"So many!"

"There power..... These beast are powerful."

"This is insane—!!"

The valley transformed into a living storm of claw and fang.

In the midst of that chaos—

On a certain ledge—

Wang Tian’s expression, instead of panicking, turned... complicated.

Brows furrowed.

Eyes distant.

Then slowly, a familiar cocky smile spread across his face.

"So he really is An Ning," he muttered.

Sheng Lu stood beside him, arms crossed, face serious.

"That loser now thinks he can test your capability, my Emperor..."

He clenched his fist.

"How dare he speak so boldly in front of you..."

Elder Liya, standing a step behind them, let out a soft laugh.

"Stop acting like this, you two," she said, voice teasing.

"He hasn’t recognized us. Yet."

Her eyes glinted.

"Do you really think that cry baby An Ning would dare talk like that in front of you if he knew your identities?"

Wang Tian clicked his tongue.

"Yeah... you’re right."

He rolled his shoulder once.

"Let’s not spoil the surprise too soon."

Shaurya didn’t turn toward them, but he definitely heard their muttering.

He filed it away.

Later.

Focus now.

An Ning raised his hand again—once more surveying everyone, every sect, the royal batches, the rogues, the beast waves.

Then he tilted his wrist.

The beasts moved.

Like a single command had been given.

ROOOOOOOOOAAAR!!

From all around the valley, the beast hordes rushed in.

Pure instinct.

Pure killing intent.

Pure chaos.

"Formation!!" Shaurya barked.

His voice cut through the panic sharp as steel.

"Everyone, close ranks!!"

Sanatan Flame Sect disciples reacted instantly.

They snapped into position around him, layering:

Frontline blades and shields.

Middle-range spear and sabre users.

Rear-line spiritualists and long-range techniques.

Howling Abyss Sect and Moonlight Pavilion wavered, caught between their own formations and the threat.

Shaurya looked left and shouted:

"MENG LIYU!!!

ZIA BAILEY!!!"

Howling Abyss Sect’s leader Meng Liyu turned sharply.

Moonlight Pavilion’s Saintess Zia Bailey also faced him.

"Bring your sects here!" Shaurya yelled.

They didn’t question him.

Both leaders nodded instantly and motioned their sects to regroup around Sanatan Flame Sect.

Within moments, three sects stood together— forming a massive protective unit.

Elder Wan slammed his palms together.

"SIX-FOLD DEFENSIVE DOME!!"

Glowing runes burst from his fingertips, weaving in the air, sinking into the stone below.

Lines of azure and gold traced along the cracked rock in complex patterns, connecting every foot, every edge, every gap.

A translucent dome of multi-layered spiritual light erupted around the combined sects.

A strong protective barrier.

But then—

Two figures casually stepped OUTSIDE the barrier.

Wang Tian. Luo Chen.

Elder Wan’s eyes widened.

"WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING!?"

Shaurya raised a hand calmly.

"Let them have some fun."

Elder Wan exhaled heavily, then chuckled despite himself.

"As Master wishes..."

Wang Tian cracked his knuckles.

"Haah... it’s been a while..."

He grinned.

"Let’s stretch our bodies."

He raised his right fist, bent at the elbow.

Luo Chen smirked.

"Of course," he said, stretching his neck, joints cracking.

"Let’s do this properly."

He raised his left fist.

They fist-bumped sideways.

The sound was quiet.

But the pressure that spilled out afterward was not.

Small ripples of spiritual energy spread from their fists.

Then—

FWOOOOOSH—!!

They charged into the beast tide like unleashed monsters.

"...Those two," Meng Liyu muttered from inside the formation, watching them through the barrier.

Claws scraped against invisible barriers. Fangs crashed into air.

Some beasts tried leaping over, but spiritual light closed in overhead, forming a full dome.

Inside the barrier—

The three sects were safe.

Outside—

All hell broke loose.

Shaurya exhaled.

"Everyone inside the formation," he said.

"Sit. Recover. Guard the injured. No one steps out without permission."

The disciples looked at him—

Then at the raging beast tide outside.

Then at Lorgann sleeping irritably on his shoulder.

And collectively decided that listening to their Sect Master was the only wise choice.

They began sitting down in clusters.

Someone pulled out spare cloth and laid it down like makeshift mattresses.

Another took out flasks of water, medicinal herbs, bandages.

It really did begin to look...

A bit like a picnic.

You know. With a hell-beast apocalypse outside.

Lin Shu sat beside Shaurya, blade across her knees, eyes still watching the outside calmly.

Muo Qian and Su Quan were already helping set up space for Xiao Lian to sit more comfortably.

Jun Hua leaned back, stretching sore shoulders.

Xu Ran started checking the condition of the younger disciples.

Outside the glowing barrier—

The beasts prowled.

Inside—

People sat, bandaged, drank water, and talked in low voices.

Shadow Blade An Ning’s eye twitched.

From high above on his throne, he stared at the sight of three whole sects casually sitting inside a glowing dome like they were at a lakeside rest stop.

"..."

His gaze drifted lower—

To Shaurya—

And then to the tiny molten creature on his shoulder.

His eyes suddenly widened.

"..."

His relaxed posture stiffened.

His gaze sharpened, zooming in on the palm-sized dragon.

He recognized him.

...Lava scales, molten cracks, that crown horn structure...

Lorgann.

The Primordial Lava Dragon.

An Ning stared for a long second.

Then slowly...

A grin formed on his face.

"Well now..."

He chuckled under his breath.

"So someone actually managed to tame Lorgann."

His grey eyes gleamed like sharpened blades.

"Interesting."

His gaze locked fully onto Shaurya.

This one...

This human...

His aura felt different.

Divine form traces.

Insane battle pressure.

Absolute disregard for death.

"Extraordinary," he murmured.

"Seems I may have a candidate who can properly entertain me... or even take my inheritance."

He leaned back again, curious.

"Show me more, human."

Outside the protective barrier—

The beast waves hit the rest of the valley.

Moonlight Pavilion and Howling Abyss Sect disciples, now inside Sanatan’s formation, could only watch from behind translucent walls as other forces fought for their lives.

On a far cliff—

Jade Kingdom Royal Guards formed a sturdy wall with gleaming golden shields, each one engraved with royal sigils.

"Shield Wall!!" the commander shouted.

Beasts slammed into them—

claws scraping metal, teeth clashing against spiritual armor.

Spears thrust through gaps.

Light arrows rained down.

Royal cultivators chanted sword mantras and unleashed crescent slashes, carving gaps into the beast tide.

Not far from them—

Crimson Mist Kingdom’s force moved like blood mist.

Their cultivators blurred in red streaks, weaving between beasts, striking throats and eyes, then vanishing again.

"Blood Shroud—Fourth Pattern!!"

A red veil fell over a cluster of beasts.

They roared in confusion—

then fell one by one, throats slit, cores shattered.

"Crimson Mist and Jade Kingdom are... cooperating?" Xiao Rui whispered from within the shelter.

"They’d be dead if they didn’t," Lee Bie said dryly.

He wasn’t sitting.

He stood near the edge of the barrier, eyes gleaming.

Beasts continued to spill out like a broken dam.

Roars collided with shouts and explosions.

BOOMMMM!!

A shockwave blasted outward.

Dozens of beasts were flung into the air like broken dolls.

Those caught closest simply exploded into a spray of flesh and bone fragments.

Wang Tian’s laughter thundered through the valley.

"HAAHAHAHAHA!! THAT’S MORE LIKE IT!!"

He slammed his fist down into the ground—

A shockwave erupted from his knuckles, cracking the terrain, tossing beasts around him like pebbles in a storm.

Luo Chen moved differently.

His sword flashed—

Not with elegant arcs—

But with brutal, efficient cuts.

Every swing took a limb.

Every thrust took a life.

He flowed through the beasts like a calm, deadly river, no wasted motion.

Inside the barrier, Sanatan disciples whistled.

"They lived upon there Brothers Of Destruction name..."

"Look at that punch!"

"That sword—!!"

Elder Liya chuckled.

"They’re finally taking things a bit seriously."

High above—

An Ning watched them with mild interest.

"Those two are not bad..."

His eyes drifted back to Shaurya.

The young Sect Master was still sitting inside the formation.

He looked relaxed.

But his eyes...

His eyes missed nothing.

From the rhythm of the beast waves— To the pressure fluctuations— To which sects were collapsing faster.

He wasn’t absent from the battle.

He was studying it.

An Ning’s smile widened.

"...Very good."

More beasts poured in.

Some were wolves with stone armor.

Some were six-eyed apes.

Some dragged chains through the dirt like the echoes of old punishments.

Roars shook the air.

The Jade and Crimson royals changed position, back-to-back, combining their formations. Golden shields reinforced by crimson mist. Joint sword formations cutting swaths through beast hordes.

On another platform, a poison-based sect blanketed their section with toxic miasma—

any beast foolish enough to crash through died choking within seconds.

But the waves did not thin.

They multiplied.

And then—

The ground near Sanatan’s ledge cracked again.

Different this time.

Deeper.

Darker.

Something massive stirred beneath.

Shaurya’s eyes flicked toward it.

Elder Wan felt it too.

"Formation—tighten the bottom layers," he ordered quickly, weaving more sigils into the floor.

The crack widened.

A massive claw emerged—

then another.

The beast that dragged itself out was far larger than the others—

A hulking chimera with three heads:

One lion.

One serpent.

One wolf.

Its body was a patchwork of obsidian plates and sinewy flesh.

Eyes glowing with ugly intelligence.

Spiritual pressure swirling around it, heavier than even some Nascent Soul cultivators.

"It’s stronger than the rest—!" Elder Hua gasped.

The chimera lifted its heads.

Roared in three voices at once.

Then turned.

Straight toward the triple-sect formation.

Its front claws dug into the rock.

The ground shook under its weight.

Elder Wan’s barrier flared as the chimera’s aura pressed against it—

CRACK—

A hairline fracture appeared in the dome.

Disciples flinched.

"Elder Wan...!"

"The formation—!"

"It’s cracking—!"

The chimera hissed with its serpent head, then charged.

Each step made the barrier ripple.

It lowered its lion head, fangs bared, darkness gathering in its maw—

Shaurya slowly stood.

Lin Shu’s hand flew to his sleeve.

"Shaurya—"

He smiled.

"Relax."

Golden light flickered faintly around his pupils.

Lorgann lifted his head on his shoulder, molten eyes narrowing at the incoming beast.

Outside, the chimera’s maw glowed with black-red energy—

Power gathering for one massive strike—

The barrier groaned.

Elder Wan gritted his teeth, pouring more spiritual power into it.

"Master..." he muttered. "We may not hold if it hits directly..."

Shaurya stepped calmly toward the edge of the barrier.

Every disciple near him held their breath.

Shadow Blade An Ning leaned forward on his throne slightly.

"Oh?" he whispered.

"Now then, young man..."

He watched as the chimera launched itself in a full-speed charge toward the tri-sect formation—

"Show me how you intend to handle this."

The beast’s roaring head and razor claws filled Shaurya’s vision.

He smiled wider.

"Finally," he said softly.

"Something for me to warm up with."

The chimera crashed down toward the barrier—

And at that exact instant, Shaurya lifted one hand—

Golden aura twisting.

TO BE CONTINUED...