Three young cultivators were making their way through the valley. One wore the robes of the Black Rose Sect, while the others bore the insignia of the Pure Soul and White Tiger Sects respectively.

As they searched for the scrolls, a faint squealing reached their ears. The three exchanged glances, debating whether to investigate.

The White Tiger disciple closed his eyes, extending his senses. "There's only one aura over there," he reported, brow furrowing. "They're at Peak Core Formation level."

He opened his eyes, glancing between his companions. "For someone to be alone, either they're overconfident..." He paused meaningfully. "Or extremely dangerous."

The two Late Core Formation cultivators shared a cocky look.

"Please, the three of us can easily handle a lone Peak Core disciple," scoffed the Black Rose disciple. "Don't tell me you're scared?"

The White Tiger disciple shook his head sharply. "Fear just breeds defeat. If we work together, we can overcome anyone in this mini-realm."

The three exchanged confident nods before heading towards the strange sounds. As they drew closer, the muffled squeals grew louder and more pained. The Pure Soul cultivator couldn't help but cringe at the cries.

"What kind of freak enjoys inflicting pain like that?" he muttered uneasily. But he didn't dare suggest turning back now, he didn’t want to propagate the already wide-spread belief that Pure Soul cultivators were cowards who would do anything to avoid confrontation.

Turning a corner, the three disciples froze at the sight before them. A silver-haired girl sat casually on top of a massive, armoured boar. In one hand she held a jagged horn, using it to slowly carve patterns into the squealing beast's hide.

The pattern looked like a name…

The Black Rose disciple's face drained of colour. "Amelia!" he choked out. Before the others could react, he spun on his heel and fled back the way they'd come.

The White Tiger and Pure Soul disciples stared after him in confusion. Over his shoulder the fleeing cultivator cried, "Run, it's her!"

Exchanging bewildered looks, the two disciples ran after their companion. Once they'd put some distance between themselves and the crazy cultivator, they grabbed the Black Rose cultivator's arm.

"What are you doing?" the White Tiger disciple demanded. "Don't tell me you're afraid of a little girl?"

The Black Rose disciple shook his head frantically, still trembling. "You don't understand! That's one of Supreme Elder Slifer's personal disciples."

The other two looked even more puzzled.

"So what?" asked the Pure Soul disciple. "She's still just one cultivator."

The Black Rose disciple's eyes were wide with fear. "You don't get it. Amelia's not just strong, she's completely insane! She loves torture and pain." He shuddered. "We can't beat someone like that in a fight and if she gets a hold of us..."

The White Tiger disciple shook his head firmly, he did not take kindly to cowardice. "You should never run from someone just because they're stronger. Don't you have any courage?" He turned to the Pure Soul disciple. "With the three of us, we can handle her."

But seeing the Black Rose disciple's stricken face, he felt the first twinges of doubt. Someone who could inspire such primal fear in a demonic cultivator was clearly dangerous.

The Black Rose disciple seemed near tears. "You don't understand, I've heard Amelia's defeated even Nascent Soul cultivators before. We wouldn't stand a chance!"

The White Tiger disciple paled slightly at this revelation. As a Peak Core Formation cultivator himself, he was quite confident in his strength, he knew he was only able to match Half-Step Nascent Soul enemies currently. Having help could allow him to stalemate a weak full Nascent Soul...but defeat one? Impossible.

The Pure Soul disciple nodded slowly. "Ah, I see. Well in that case, good call on retreating," he said, clapping the Black Rose disciple's shoulder. "I'd rather not tangle with someone unhinged enough to torture beasts for fun."

The Black Rose disciple nearly sobbed in relief at their understanding. But a chill suddenly ran down all three of their spines.

"Oh? Who are you calling unhinged?" a soft voice questioned from right behind them.

They whirled to find Amelia standing there, idly playing with the bloody boar horn. An unsettling smile graced her lips as she tilted her head at them.

“Demon!” The Black Rose disciple yelped, nearly tripping over his own feet to get away. The Pure Soul disciple also backpedalled furiously. Only the White Tiger disciple stood his ground. He raised his sword warily at the girl.

"Though I'll agree, I do take pleasure in certain...acts," Amelia continued lightly. But her gaze turned hungry as it passed over them. "I'd be happy to show you just how much, if you're interested."

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Caelum's eyes narrowed as he was pushed back by the hawk-like beast. It let out an ear-piercing screech, claws swiping dangerously close. He sighed, raising his sword defensively. Through his master's teachings, Caelum had converted some of his demonic techniques into righteous ones—but unfortunately not all of them.

Hopefully I won't need to resort to any demonic techniques to defeat this creature, he thought.

As the hawk swept in for another strike, Caelum activated his Sunrise Slash technique, vanishing and reappearing behind the bird. He slashed at its head with his sword, but the hawk somehow sensed the blow coming and dodged aside at the last second. It immediately countered, its talons grazing Caelum's arm and nearly tearing through the sleeve of his robe. He leapt back just in time, grimacing slightly at the near miss.

"Tch, this thing's instincts are too sharp.”

"Nine Lights Mirage," Caelum muttered. Suddenly, eight identical images of him appeared, each wielding its own sword. They surrounded the hawk in a circle, then attacked simultaneously from all sides.

The hawk let out an enraged screech, pushing back several of the images with a powerful wind blast. Though it destroyed three of the images, the technique allowed two of the real Caelum's sword strikes to land. The hawk squawked in pain as gashes opened along its flank.

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Finally!

Caelum's lip curled in satisfaction, but it quickly turned to alarm as the injured hawk's eyes suddenly burned red. With an echoing shriek, its aura began climbing exponentially, quickly reaching the power of an Early Nascent Soul cultivator.

It’s still climbing! Caelum's eyes widened. He couldn't allow the beast to fully enter its berserk state! At this rate, it would become too powerful for him to handle without suffering from severe injuries. He had to end this now.

Hissing through his teeth, Caelum thrust his sword forward. "Thorned Lash!"

The blade seemed to shoot forward, extending and elongating until it struck the frenzied hawk directly in its thick neck. The razor-sharp point pierced deep, cutting off the creature's building scream.

Caelum quickly retracted the whip-like weapon back to its normal sword form as the mortally wounded hawk collapsed, its aura fading away.

“Just more death…”

As a former demonic cultivator, Caelum was no stranger to violence. Yet he would avoid ending lives when he could.

He let out a soft sigh, watching almost sadly as a long, tongue-like appendage emerged from his sword, devouring the beast's qi.

Though Caelum now followed the righteous path, Bloodthorn would always remain a demonic weapon. Swords couldn’t change their nature even if their master wanted them to. He made a mental note to seek out a righteous blacksmith, to see if the sword could be reforged.

Or maybe Master could help, it was him who gifted Bloodthorn to me in the first place, Caelum nodded. His master had a knack for surprising others, pulling out miracles left and right. If he could turn a mortal girl into a cultivator then perhaps he could show a sword the righteous path.

But before then, Caelum was handicapped. Fighting with a demonic sword whilst using righteous technique doesn’t give him the opportunity to bring out the full extent of his battle prowess. However, the bond between the two was too strong for him to consider using a replacement.

“We live and die together,” Caelum whispered as he flicked the blood from his blade.

Bloodthorn growled in agreement as it continued to feed.

Reflecting on the battle, Caelum sighed. I still have far to go before I can call myself a true righteous cultivator. This battle only proved how reliant I still am on my demonic abilities.

As Bloodthorn burped in satisfaction, Caelum suddenly sensed a spike of energy from the direction Hughie had gone.

"Hughie," he muttered, quickly flying toward the disturbance. Whatever trouble his junior brother had found, Caelum only hoped he wasn't too late.

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Hughie picked his way carefully across the fiery valley, focused on finding that hidden scroll.

Caelum was off battling some giant bird, which sounded way too troublesome. As for Amelia, he honestly had no idea what his Senior Sister was up to, but it likely involved a lot of screaming…and not the good kind.

"You're supposed to be cultivating a heart of iron, boy," Li Fenghao's voice rang out in Hughie's mind. "Yet a mere walking pace has you wheezing like an old man!"

Hughie scowled, but couldn't deny the complaint. The rocky terrain combined with the oppressive heat was sapping his energy fast. Which made him feel uneasy, a Core Formation cultivator feeling tired from walking? Something was off.

"Hey, give me a break! This place is like a bloody furnace," he grumbled back. "I'd like to see you do better in this heat, geezer."

The immortal's disdainful huff nearly blew Hughie's eardrums out. "Excuses, excuses. Focus on your mission or I'll double your training."

Since his master had that conversation with the Greater Immortal, the old man had been motivated in Hughie’s training. Far too motivated.

What a Greater Immortal considered adequate training, Hughie considered torture.

That threat spurred Hughie to quicken his steps. The temperature seemed to climb even higher in response, and he grimaced at the sweat dripping down his back. Ugh, disgusting. At this rate, he'd pass out from heat stroke before ever finding the scroll.

Just then, his foot snagged on a half-buried boulder, sending him sprawling face-first onto the ground. "Owww, son of a..."

Hughie's voice trailed off as his gaze landed on the object his fall had inadvertently revealed - a small chest tucked into a cleft in the rocks. Heart pounding, he scrambled over and wrenched it open.

There, nestled inside, was a scroll sealed with crimson wax!

The Yang scroll!

"Ha, yes!" Hughie cheered, pumping a fist in the air. "Who's the man? I'm the man!"

Li Fenghao snorted. "Yes, truly your intellect is unparalleled. Falling on your face and blind luck, a masterful strategy."

"Hey, a win's a win," Hughie shot back, ignoring the sarcasm. He had done it! Wait until he showed Caelum the scroll. His Senior Brother would be thrilled. But more importantly, he could tell Oliviare how he was the reason why they all passed the first stage.

She’ll be so impressed! I can already imagine the look on her face!

Tucking his prize safely away into his storage ring, Hughie’s facial expression turned serious as he glanced around cautiously.

Other teams could be lurking, looking for an easy ambush. He needed to regroup with the others immediately.

Suddenly, Hughie sensed a flash of movement overhead. He looked up just as a dark figure plummeted from the smoky sky towards him.

Twisting desperately, Hughie narrowly avoided the diving kick aimed at his head. He caught a glimpse of black robes and a porcelain mask etched with a black skull.

"A Black Death disciple!" he gasped, ducking under a flurry of punches. What rotten luck to run into one of them here, and a crazy aggressive one at that!

But Hughie quickly realized something was off about his attacker. Rather than using any techniques, the person stuck solely to physical strikes, as if...holding back?

Cryptic words continued spilling from behind the mask between attacks. "Fight...me...useless...die!"

Hughie's danger sense blared as he sidestepped an elbow strike at his throat.

Who was this weirdo?