Disciple Zhao's forehead remained glued to the floor of the grand bedchamber. He did not dare wipe the icy sweat stinging his eyes, nor did he dare adjust his cramped, trembling legs.
"Young Master," Zhao stammered, his voice cracking horribly in the vast, gloomy room. "Your... your supreme mastery over the forbidden flesh-mending arts has terrified the outer courtyards. I have a deeply presumptuous plea regarding my own worthless contracted beast..."
Sunny sat on the edge of his bed.
He felt utterly exhausted. His mind was a chaotic mess of fear and confusion. All he wanted was to curl up under the heavy blankets, close his eyes, and pretend this terrifying transmigration into an evil sect was just a bad fever dream.
"..." Sunny simply stared down at the trembling disciple. His glowing crimson eyes pierced the gloom, devoid of any warmth, empathy, or understanding.
Zhao choked on his own spit. The silence was heavier than a mountain.
'Why is he just looking at me?' Zhao thought, 'Is he wondering if my bones would make a good catalyst for his next dark ritual? I am dead!'
"Since my plea is presumptuous, I shall swallow it! Please do not refine my flesh!" Zhao cried out, pressing his face harder against the floor until the jagged stone bruised his skin.
Sunny inwardly sighed. Good. Now leave so I can sleep.
"Go," Sunny commanded.
Zhao scrambled backward on his hands and knees, practically throwing himself out the doors, leaving Sunny alone with his headache.
...
BONG! BONG! BONG!
The deafening toll of the sect's Soul-Rending Bell shattered the morning air, vibrating through the very foundations of the mountain.
It was the highest emergency summons.
Thousands of disciples clad in dark, blood-trimmed robes gathered in the central execution square. The atmosphere was thick with suffocating anxiety and the oppressive weight of demonic auras.
Sunny stood near the front of the assembly, his posture rigid. Internally, he was a ball of pure panic.
'What now? Can't a guy get a single morning of peace? What if someone challenges me to a death match? I don't know any martial arts!' Outwardly, however, with his pale aristocratic features, flowing black robes, and unblinking red eyes, he appeared as a statuesque lord of death, completely unfazed by the commotion.
A towering figure materialized on the elevated sacrificial altar overlooking the square. It was Grand Elder Shen He, cloaked in robes woven from human shadows.
"The Alliance of Orthodox Sects presses upon our borders!" Elder Shen He's voice boomed, carrying the weight of a crushing spiritual incantation.
"The Sect Master has decreed an immediate, absolute restructuring of our ranks!"
The entire square held its breath.
"Beginning tomorrow, the Outer Courtyards and the Inner Sect shall merge," the Grand Elder announced, his cold gaze sweeping over the sea of young faces.
"The safety of the inner walls is abolished. All disciples, regardless of status, shall enter the Blood Slaughter Trials. Furthermore, a new vanguard unit, the Death Sworn, is being formed. Those who survive the Vanguard will be granted direct access to the sect's hidden spirit stone mines and the forbidden scripture pavilion."
A stunned silence washed over the crowd, followed immediately by an explosion of chaotic murmurs. The weaker disciples looked like they were going to vomit.
The Blood Slaughter Trials meant a massive mortality rate. It was a meat grinder. But the truly vicious, ambitious cultivators roared with bloodlust, eager for the chance to pillage the forbidden resources.
Sunny kept his face perfectly still, masking his internal hyperventilation with a facade of chilling indifference.
"Silence!" Elder Shen He roared, unleashing a wave of dark energy that physically forced the weaker disciples to their knees.
"The trials begin at dawn. Prepare your beasts. Prepare your arrays. Death to the righteous!"
As the crowd dispersed in a frenzy of panic and preparation, a shadow slipped next to Sunny.
"Young Master Sunny," whispered a faceless attendant, bowing deeply. "The Grand Elder requires your presence in the Blood Bone Hall."
Sunny followed the attendant through the winding, bone-lined corridors of the inner sect.
When he entered the dimly lit hall, Grand Elder Shen He was seated upon a throne of fused spines, examining a glowing red jade slip.
"Young Master," the Elder began, his tone surprisingly devoid of its usual condescension.
"Word of your sudden... awakening... has reached my ears. To forcefully mutate a creature without an array or spirit stones is a feat worthy of your father's bloodline."
Sunny just stared at him. He thinks I'm a genius. If I tell him the truth, he'll dissect me.
"..." Sunny offered no response, crossing his arms and letting his innate villainous aura naturally wash over the room.
The Grand Elder's eyes narrowed in dark approval at the boy's arrogant silence.
"The sect requires leadership in the upcoming massacre. I wish for you to command the Death Sworn Vanguard. You will lead the first wave into the Orthodox Sect's territory."
Sunny's internal monologue screamed in sheer terror. 'Lead the first wave? Absolutely not!'
"No." Sunny stated flatly. His voice was cold, carrying a finality that brooked no argument.
Elder Shen He bristled, clearly taken aback. Demonic cultivators were supposed to leap at the chance to command forces and hoard battlefield spoils.
To refuse was not just cowardice; it was a profound insult to the sect's brutal traditions.
"You refuse?" The Elder's spiritual pressure flared, making the soul-fires in the room flicker wildly.
"Do you fear the righteous swordsmen, boy?"
Sunny needed an excuse, and he needed it fast. He needed to avoid the Vanguard, but he also realized he couldn't completely run away from the trials.
The Supreme Merge System required beasts and materials. A massive battlefield was a treasure trove of corpses and wild beasts waiting to be fused.
He needed to participate on his own terms, hiding in the shadows, where it was safe.
Sunny let the silence stretch, forcing the powerful Elder to wait in suspense.
"I am no one's shield. I will walk the battlefield alone. I require... specific materials. The Vanguard is too loud."
Elder Shen He's anger instantly evaporated, replaced by a deep realization. He looked at Sunny's emotionless face and misunderstood entirely.
The boy wanted to hunt alone, to harvest flesh and souls for his horrifying dark arts without the Vanguard getting in his way.
"I see," the Elder murmured, a cruel smile touching his lips.
"You truly are a monster. Very well. Hunt as you please, Young Master."
"Hn," Sunny grunted, turning on his heel and leaving the hall.
That afternoon, the Heavenly Demon Sect became a hive of horrifying industry.
Thousands of skeletal laborers and low-level cultivators dragged massive, blood-soaked obsidian blocks into the courtyards. Intricate, glowing red arrays were carved directly into the stone pathways.
The sect was fortifying its position while preparing the massive teleportation formations needed to send the disciples to the frontlines.
Sunny watched the terrifying construction from his high window. He saw massive vats of boiling blood being hauled by enslaved ogres.
He saw spirit stone cannons being mounted on the walls. The sheer scale and speed of the Demonic Sect's preparations were mind-boggling.
'I really, really miss modern plumbing and quiet neighborhoods,' Sunny thought miserably, resting his aching forehead against the cold glass.
By the time dawn broke, the sky was stained a sickly purple. Sunny descended from his chambers, his newly fused Phantom Ash Scorpion scuttling obediently in his long shadow.
The main square was unrecognizable. It was now a sprawling staging ground.
The terrified Outer Sect disciples were huddled together, clutching their low-tier beasts, looking like cattle waiting for the butcher.
But what drew Sunny's attention was the formidable perimeter guard that had arrived during the night.
Three rows of elite cultivators from the Law Enforcement Hall stood perfectly still, their faces hidden behind heavy iron masks.
Beside each enforcer sat a massive, identical beast.
They were monstrous hounds with flesh that looked like exposed muscle and bone, radiating a suffocating aura of death.
The hounds sat in perfect unison, their skeletal tails perfectly still.
They were only Tier 2 Elite beasts, but seeing fifty of them perfectly synchronized created an aura of intimidation that would make even a Tier 4 Commander beast hesitate.
Sunny couldn't help but stare, his system automatically providing the data.
[Monster Name]: Blood-Marrow Hound
[Monster Grade]: Normal
[Monster Level]: Tier 2
'If I could just get my hands on two of those,' Sunny thought,
'I wonder what they would fuse into?'
He took a slow step forward.
The nearby Outer Disciples saw the Young Master staring hungrily at the Law Enforcement beasts.