Jared''s gaze hardened to flint.


    He lifted two fingers, aligned them, and traced a single, indifferent line through the air.


    The hiss of severed flesh cut the wind, a wet whistle that still rang in Jared''s ears as the swordpleted its arc.


    Malcolm''s head spun upward, haloed by his own blood, while the torso dropped like a stone through the misted air.


    Even in death that face clung to its deranged grin, as if refusing to ept the verdict Jared had just pronounced.


    A High Immortal Level Three, Lord of the Malevolent Path Hall-gone, severed by a single stroke that still trembled in Jared''s wrist.


    The mountain gate hovered inside a silence so thick Jared almost mistook it for deafness; nothing moved, nothing breathed, as if the world waited to see whether its own heart still beat.


    Below, more than ten thousand cultivators stared at the drifting ash and the


    headless corpse, then at Jared''s floating silhouette, their eyes zed with the shock of animals watching fire for the first time.


    Someone mouthed a question, barely more than breath. "Dead?" The syble fluttered upward and vanished.


    Then the realization ran through the crowd like lightning through dry timber-two High Immortal overlords, Malevolent Path Hall and Ninefold Nether Pce both, wiped away by a youth still short of the highest realm.


    This was no duel; it was ughter.


    A higher order crushing a lower, the way a heel meets dust.


    The concept shrank their thoughts to sparks that fizzled out before taking shape.


    One figure folded to his knees, palms pped against the stone.


    That single copse triggered a ripple; in the span of a heartbeat the field became a sea of bent backs, bodies dropping like dominoes knocked by an unseen hand.


    Stench rose as terror loosened bowels; some shook so violently their teeth rattled, the noise tiny and pathetic against the vast quiet.


    "Spare us, Senior-spare us!" Voices ovepped until words became a single wail. "Malevolent Path forced us! We will turn, we swear!"


    "Mercy, Senior, mercy!" The air vibrated with sobs, each plea scraping Jared''s skin like grit.


    The hall''s remaining elders wore faces bleached of color; one copsed where he stood, others drifted backward, toes searching for any path away from this waking nightmare.


    Only then did Aurelian, ine, and Oswald recover enough to breathe.


    They stared at Jared''s back the way sailors stare at a horizon they once believed unreachable—eyes bright with awe, damp with fear, wild with a sudden, unearned


    hope.


    Joy wrestled with disbelief inside each of them, leaving their expressions oddly hollow.


    Barely a month ago Jared had hidden behind them, counting breaths while Gerald burned his life to shield him.


    Now he stood on the twelfth level''s summit, and with a casual flick erased the giants they once looked up to.


    Faces below him hung open, their terror and wonder mixing into the same helpless stare.


    The pace of his growth had outrun their old equations; he could almost hear their certainties cracking.


    Vermilion Demon Lord drifted to Jared''s side, fangs bared in a grin. "So, what do we do with these fence-sitters?"


    Jared''s gaze swept the crushed lines of cultivators, indifferent.


    "Their ringleaders are dead. The rest may live if they abandon every technique tied to the Door of


    Reincarnation and leave the Nether Ar


    Mountain Range Range Anyone resisting dies."


    His voice was no louder than conversation, yet it threaded every ear like a verdict carved in stone.


    "Mercy, Senior! Mercy!" the valley echoed, the words copsing over themselves in frantic gratitude.


    More than ten thousand crashed to their knees, foreheads punching the dirt like pestles working garlic.


    Jared let their mor fade behind him and lifted his eyes to Reincarnation Peak.


    The stone altar still hissed with


    leftover power, and above it the phantom Door of Reincarnation quivered unwilling to vanish even after Malcolm''s death.


    "The Door of Reincarnation... the souls of the xseed n..." The words crawled


    from his throat, meant for no one.


    Frost light flickered across his pupils, cold enough to burn.


    Malcolm and Morven had fallen; that was only the first stone thrown.


    The true hand waited behind the door, calling itself the Lord of Reincarnation.


    And the stolen souls of his xseed bloodline-those he would pry back, whatever screamed on the other side.


    A slow breath emptied the heat from his chest, leaving resolve behind.


    The Door tangled with the world''s corews; charging in now would be blindness masquerading as bravery.


    He needed deepermand of the Primal Unity Refinement Tome, a higher tier in


    the Chaotic Domain, more des sharpened within.


    Soon, he promised himself. Not decades-soon.


    Turning, he found Aurelian and the others still pinned by awe.


    A thin smile crossed his mouth. "Seniors, Malevolent Path Hall is dust. The


    hierarchy of level twelve will be rewritten."


    Vel


    Aurelian drew a breath, bowed stiffly. "Jared-no, Senior Jared! From this day, level twelve follows you. We will rebuild order and erase the remnants!"


    ine, Oswald, and the rest folded at the waist, allegiance in in their lowered eyes.


    He shook his head. "Forget the titles. I remain Jared. The future of level twelve rests with all of you, not a throne."


    His sight stretched past cloud, stone, and sky, as though another, vaster realm had whispered open.


    "I''m entering the Door of Reincarnation to meet its master."


    The choice settled inside him like iron cooling in water-final, ringing, inevitable.