The moon hung high above the Federation, draping the sprawling streets in pale silver as a lone figure raced across tiled rooftops. A woman clad in dark robes woven with muted blue and gray streaked through the night like a silent phantom. Her long black hair streamed behind her while her sharp eyes remained fixed upon the fleeing silhouette ahead.

The demon-possessed man glanced over his shoulder, his face twisted into a manic grin.

"You'll never catch me, woman! Die!"

Dozens of blackened needles erupted from his sleeves, screaming through the air toward her.

Fan Shi never slowed.

Her movement technique manifested through psychic principles, leaving behind a procession of lifelike afterimages that scattered in every direction. The poisoned needles pierced illusion after illusion, each image dissolving into ripples of spiritual force. By the time the possessed man realized his mistake, Fan Shi had already vanished from his sight.

"Force Step."

A psychic burst exploded beneath her feet.

The world seemed to fold as she accelerated beyond the limits of ordinary movement, instantly appearing beside the fleeing man. Her hand seized his shoulder before he could react.

"Exorcise."

The single word carried absolute authority.

A blinding wave of spiritual light erupted from her palm.

An agonized shriek burst from within the young man's body as a smoky figure was violently expelled into the open air. The demonic spirit tore free, flailing as invisible laws rejected its possession. Fan Shi caught the unconscious human before he struck the stone pavement, gently lowering him onto the ground.

The young man groaned weakly, tears rolling down his face.

"It... it hurts... please... make it stop..."

"Breathe," Fan Shi said calmly, resting two fingers against his forehead. "Your soul is stabilizing. Do not resist."

Several paces away, black smoke condensed into the shape of a horned spirit whose burning eyes glared at both of them.

"You insolent cultivator. That body belonged to me."

Fan Shi regarded the creature without emotion.

It was a djinn-type demon.

According to the Isolation Path Sect's records, djinns were naturally spiritual beings known for granting wishes, though almost always through malicious bargains that preyed upon mortal greed. Unlike many spirits, they rarely descended into true demonic corruption. Their innate inclinations usually guided them toward either the Human Path or the Asura Path, making demons of this species exceedingly uncommon.

Unfortunately, uncommon did not mean impossible.

"Soul Rend."

Spectral chains burst from both sleeves of her robe.

The translucent links lashed through the air with terrifying precision before striking the djinn across its body. Spiritual cracks spread over its smoky form as the chains tore directly at its soul.

"Argh! Damn you!" the demon screamed. "The blasted Chained Maiden! Fan Shi of the Isolation Path Sect!"

Its body immediately dissolved into thick smoke, sacrificing much of its physical manifestation to escape the worst of the attack. Even so, Fan Shi clearly perceived the psychic wounds carved into its spirit.

Her Mind's Eye remained locked upon those injuries.

No amount of shapeshifting could erase the trail left behind.

Footsteps echoed through the alley as several disciples from the Isolation Path Sect hurried into view.

"Senior Sister Fan Shi! Please slow down!"

"We almost lost you!"

Fan Shi did not even turn around.

"You're too slow," she replied coldly. "Train harder."

She pointed toward the recovering merchant heir.

"Remain here. Protect him until the Federation physicians arrive. Do not allow another spirit anywhere near him."

The young master curled into himself, clutching his chest as another groan escaped his lips.

"Y-Yes... thank you..."

Without another word, Fan Shi launched herself after the fleeing demon.

Her sleeves flicked outward.

Individual links separated from her spectral chains, scattering across the night sky like countless silver stars. She leaped upward, landing lightly atop one floating chain link before springing toward the next. Each step carried her farther into the air, transforming her chains into an ever-changing path that granted unmatched mobility.

With a graceful gesture of one hand, the remaining chain links spread across the surrounding district.

The fleeing djinn darted between narrow alleys, weaving through abandoned courtyards and disappearing into walls of smoke. It believed clever movement and shifting forms could shake its pursuer.

It was mistaken.

The creature had reached the Legend Rank, placing it among practitioners of the Transcendent Method. Such spiritual beings existed beyond the reach of ordinary cultivation techniques. In terms of raw strength, a Legend Rank entity rivaled cultivators standing between the Eighth and Ninth Realms of the Longevity Method.

Yet this was no ordinary opponent.

It was a spiritual creature.

Fan Shi cultivated both the Longevity Method and the Transcendent Method. Throughout this entire region, she alone possessed the qualifications necessary to hunt such an enemy without relying upon reinforcements.

One by one, the chain links drifted into carefully calculated positions overhead.

Each movement anticipated the djinn's future escape routes.

Each adjustment narrowed the invisible cage surrounding it.

When every possibility had been accounted for, Fan Shi finally acted.

Her master had once perfected the Isolation Path Sect's Imprisonment Formation before further refining it through numerous transpositions derived from captured demonic techniques. Although Fan Shi's current version remained slightly incomplete, tonight's prey would not survive its imperfections.

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The scattered chain links resonated simultaneously.

Artificial qi veins ignited between every connection.

Lines of brilliant spiritual energy linked together into a vast lattice that descended from every direction. Magnetized by the formation, the chains converged upon the trapped djinn before it could escape.

Only then did Fan Shi appear behind it.

She exhaled a single steady breath.

"Soul Rend Mandala."

The formation bloomed.

Countless spectral chains unfolded into a radiant mandala whose intersecting patterns shredded body, soul, and demonic essence alike. The imprisoned djinn screamed only once before its existence unraveled into countless motes of fading spiritual light.

Nothing remained.

Fan Shi quietly watched the last fragments disappear into the night breeze.

"May your next life be kinder than this one," she said softly. "Repent for the wrongs you committed, and perhaps your soul will finally know peace."

The chains returned to her sleeves one link at a time.

She landed gracefully upon the empty street, her robes settling around her in silence.

"Good job."

The familiar voice caused her eyes to widen.

A projection materialized before her, its form radiating warm golden light.

It was Da Wei.

Fan Shi immediately lowered her head.

"Your Holy Majesty—"

She barely began to kneel before Da Wei raised a hand with an amused smile.

"No, no. There's no need."

His gaze swept across the quiet streets where the lingering traces of battle slowly faded.

"The reason I can entrust the Hollowed World to itself is because of people like you."

His smile carried both pride and gratitude.

"Thank you. Truly."

Fan Shi remained speechless for several moments.

To most people, the Holy Emperor was an omnipresent existence whose awareness seemed limitless. Yet even his immeasurable power could not observe every corner of the world at every moment. Hidden incidents like tonight's possession often unfolded beyond even his immediate notice, making vigilant cultivators like her indispensable.

Her eyes drifted toward the distant merchant estate.

The young master she had rescued was one of several heirs locked in a bitter succession struggle within his family's merchant guild. Desperation had driven him to seek forbidden shortcuts, and in that moment of weakness, the demonic djinn had found the opening it needed to exploit his ambition.

Da Wei followed her gaze and sighed quietly.

"Greed has always been the easiest door for demons to enter."

Fan Shi nodded once.

"So long as such doors continue to open," she said, "the Isolation Path Sect will continue closing them."

Da Wei chuckled softly.

"I never doubted it."

People could always find a way to lie and cheat the system if it meant getting what they wanted.

Da Wei was that system.

Even he was not truly perfect.

Those closest to him understood that better than anyone else. The Holy Emperor governed the Hollowed World with unfathomable authority, yet the world was vast and filled with countless ambitions, schemes, and loopholes. Mortals coveted power, immortality, wealth, and influence. No matter how flawless a law appeared, someone would eventually discover a crack to exploit. It was an endless contest between order and ingenuity, one Da Wei had long accepted would never truly end.

Fan Shi studied the smiling projection before her for a brief moment before speaking.

"Your Holy Majesty," she said evenly, "what is it that you want? You would not appear before me without a reason."

Da Wei gave an exaggerated cough into his fist. "Ahem. You've become frighteningly sharp."

"I learned from the best."

"Flattery won't—"

"It wasn't flattery."

Da Wei laughed.

Fan Shi folded her arms.

"If this is important, please make it quick. I'm rather busy."

She bent down and picked up the black orb resting where the djinn had been destroyed.

It was the demon's remains.

Unlike ordinary corpses, spiritual creatures condensed their essence into objects such as these upon death. The orb still pulsed faintly with demonic energy despite its owner's destruction. Artifact refiners prized such materials, while alchemists occasionally incorporated them into specialized concoctions. Even if she had no personal use for it, the Federation's bounty office would pay handsomely for proof of extermination.

Then there was the paperwork.

Every demonic incident required reports, witness statements, verification from the local authorities, and confirmation from the Isolation Path Sect. Fan Shi disliked bureaucracy almost as much as fleeing demons.

Da Wei seemed to read her thoughts. "Leave the rest to me."

Before Fan Shi could ask what he meant, another figure entered the alley. It walked with slow, measured steps, emerging silently from around the corner. The newcomer was an Ezekiel.

Its immaculate skeletal frame glowed with gentle golden light, every bone engraved with sacred scripture. Unlike ordinary undead, an Ezekiel was a spirit born of heavenly principles, a being of pure order whose existence opposed corruption as naturally as fire opposed ice.

The Holy Skeleton stopped before Fan Shi and politely extended both hands.

Without needing an explanation, she placed the black orb into its waiting palms.

The Ezekiel bowed once in gratitude before turning away and disappearing into the night as silently as it had arrived.

Fan Shi watched it leave before shifting her attention back to Da Wei.

"...What exactly was that about?"

Da Wei clasped his hands behind his back.

"I came because I'd like to recruit you."

She raised an eyebrow.

"For what?"

"I'm preparing representatives for a contest."

"A contest?"

"Against the Supreme Heart."

Fan Shi's expression grew interested.

"It will resemble a tournament," Da Wei continued. "The details will come later, but each side will select individuals to compete. I need capable people whom I can trust."

A slow grin spread across Fan Shi's face.

"So that's why you came personally."

"I thought you might appreciate the invitation."

She did not hesitate.

"I accept."

"I knew you would."

...

..

.

[POV: Zhu Shin]

Far from the bustling Federation, beneath the quiet shade of ancient pines, a solitary man stood before a weathered tombstone.

His broad shoulders were wrapped in armor fashioned after a mighty bull, its iron plates scarred by countless battlefields. Dark hair spilled past his shoulders, while a thick beard framed a stern face that had intimidated enemies for centuries. Only the silver strands gathering around his temples and the tips of his beard betrayed the relentless passage of time.

This was Zhu Shin, the Iron Bull.

One of the Holy Ascension Empire's greatest generals.

Very little of his life truly belonged to him. Nearly every waking hour was devoted to drilling soldiers, reorganizing supply lines, inspecting fortifications, and ensuring the Empire's Guardians remained coordinated with the military. His responsibilities never ended.

Even so, once every century, he always returned here.

Before him stood a simple stone monument.

Upon its smooth face had been carefully carved a single name.

Zhu Lian

Beneath it rested a single inscription.

"A pearl shines brightest not because it outlives the sea, but because it never loses its brilliance."

His beloved younger sister.

Time had stolen her long ago.

Now it was slowly reaching for him as well.

Zhu Shin rested one weathered hand against the cold stone.

"I couldn't do it, Lian..."

His voice cracked.

"I couldn't reach the Eleventh Realm."

Tears quietly rolled down his rugged face.

"I failed to become immortal. Perhaps... it won't be much longer before I join you."

No soldier had ever seen the Iron Bull cry. No subordinate would have believed such a sight possible. Only here, before the sister he could never protect, did he allow the burdens he carried to surface.

He possessed countless regrets.

Among the greatest was never being allowed to march at the army's forefront against the Great Beast.

Instead, by the Holy Emperor's command, the Guardians had formed the first line of defense. They had charged into hopeless battles, sacrificing themselves again and again to purchase precious moments for the rest of the world.

Zhu Shin remembered every war he had survived.

Most vivid of all remained the apocalypse that had nearly erased there civilization. He remembered leading disciplined formations through cities consumed by madness while Conquest spread terror with his grotesque pale creations. That battlefield had been unlike any campaign recorded in military doctrine.

There had been no clear frontlines.

Instead, there was only betrayal, sabotage, confusion, and panic.

Even now, he hated admitting the truth buried deep within his heart. He envied the Guardians. They fought monsters every day without concerning themselves with politics, logistics, or administration.

They simply fought as they pleased.

At his core, Zhu Shin had always been a warrior.

Being reduced to a general whose days were consumed by reports and paperwork often felt like placing a caged tiger behind a writing desk.

He slowly released a long breath.

"They say growing sentimental is proof of old age."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips before fading once more. He understood his duty. His former sovereign, His Majesty Nongmin, had entrusted him to assist His Holy Majesty Da Wei in every endeavor necessary to preserve the world.

That responsibility outweighed personal desire.

It always would.

Closing his eyes, Zhu Shin silently offered a prayer to the Great Guard, to the Holy Emperor himself.

"If Your Holy Majesty can hear this old bull... then grant me one selfish wish."

His fists slowly tightened.

"I want one final bloodbath."

His voice became firm.

"I want a battlefield worthy of everything I've endured. Let my blood boil once more. Let my veins burn with vigor instead of routine. Give me an enemy upon whom I can unleash every ounce of strength and frustration that has accumulated inside me through these long years."

Silence answered him for only a heartbeat.

When Zhu Shin opened his eyes again, a familiar figure stood before the tombstone, smiling as though he had been there all along.

It was Da Wei.

The Holy Emperor folded his arms comfortably.

"Your prayers," he said with an amused smile, "have just been answered."

Zhu Shin stared in stunned silence.

Da Wei's smile widened.

"If it's a battle you seek, I believe I know exactly the place for you."

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