Zhi Xuan walked through the dark passage, reaching the stone door of the emergency room. Chu Feng carved the door rune again, and the door immediately opened.

  Inside, Zhi Xuan immediately dropped onto the straw mat, his body feeling like a fractured furnace, barely able to contain the turbulent black jade essence. The sharp pain from his crushed ribs and the burning sensation spreading in his spiritual kidney due to the Deathbringer's remaining poison were a double torment.

  "Young Master, we will prepare the 'Devil's Harvest' immediately," Chu Feng whispered through the crack in the door before closing it. There was a terrifying note of respect in his voice; they were now dealing with an entity far more brutal than they had anticipated.

  Silence descended. Zhi Xuan did not waste a single second. He spat out the last black blood mixed with poison residue, then immediately channeled his black jade essence.

  He did not use a cultivation technique. He used the Heavenly Trifold Reincarnation Cauldron, which he manifested as a small, spinning core within his Sea of Consciousness, channeling the Law of Spring. This Law, representing birth, clarification, and regeneration, began to work on his spiritual blood.

  His Wheel of Heavenly Samsara rotated slowly, aiding the spiritual blood to spread throughout his meridians. Zhi Xuan sank into his sea of consciousness, sitting cross-legged atop his sea of consciousness, the divine cauldron circling him.

  Until, the devil seed, the size of a black grape, seemed to awaken. Zhi Xuan’s sea of consciousness slightly rippled for a moment before returning to stillness. From beneath the sea, a figure with dark purple hair emerged.

  The eyes were red with dark, burning embers. The black-red robe belonged to Zhi Xuan. The Wheel of Heavenly Samsara, reinforced with the Azure Holy Flame, trembled faintly as if Zhi Xuan's sea of consciousness was accommodating two souls that were one.

  The dark purple-haired figure was none other than the manifestation of the Devil Seed that had long been dormant, awakened by the combination of extreme pain, the forced use of forbidden techniques, and the brutal validation in the blood arena. He was a perfect shadow of Zhi Xuan, but filled with an older, colder authority—the Devil Soul that he had been suppressing.

  "Long time no see, myself." The voice of the dark purple-haired figure did not reach Zhi Xuan’s ears, but crept into his soul. Here, the sound of the Ancient Devil Monument's vibration felt very distant. It was as if the scope of his hearing contained only himself and the dark purple-haired figure.

  Zhi Xuan did not open his eyes in his sea of consciousness. He knew that glancing at his Devil Soul manifestation was equivalent to giving legitimacy to the entity he had to suppress his entire life.

  "I do not know you," Zhi Xuan replied, his mind as calm as a frozen lake. The Wheel of Heavenly Samsara spun with the law of winter, an instinctive defense; his Sea of Consciousness seemed to freeze, beginning to channel cold energy, attempting to freeze the dark purple figure in place.

  The silence was piercing; there was no sound and no fluctuation. Only souls that seemed to be one, inseparable. Zhi Xuan felt a chilling cold in his sea of consciousness, as if the law of winter was not freezing the dark purple-haired figure, but himself.

  The dark purple-haired figure grinned, a grin that betrayed the feeling of joy from a reunion. The face of the dark purple-haired figure was as smooth as pure jade, yet his eyes were a wild, blood-red illusion filled with a primordial aura.

  "You are freezing," the Devil Soul whispered, his voice containing laughter. "You always try to freeze the inevitable. The fight in the blood arena, the pain you swallowed, all of it was a call for my awakening. You have allowed the Devil's Breath to seep into your Spiritual Blood, and now, you are surprised I came to collect."

  The figure stepped forward onto the surface of the frozen Sea of Consciousness. His footsteps left blood-red ripples. The cold aura emitted by the Law of Winter was ineffective against him; instead, the cold aura seemed to welcome him, reinforcing his authority.

  "I am you, Zhi Xuan. The abandoned soul, suppressed under a pile of mortal ethics and incomplete Dao," the Devil Soul continued, his hand raised. "You have absorbed all the joy, the victory, and the low cheers outside."

  Zhi Xuan restrained himself, focusing the energy of the Law of Spring from the Divine Cauldron to continue healing his spiritual kidney, ignoring the presence of the Devil Soul.

  "I am a Dao cultivator. Your path will never be mine," Zhi Xuan countered, his tone flat and unwavering.

  The Devil Soul laughed heartily, a laugh that echoed like a cracked bell, but only within the Sea of Consciousness.

  "Dao? What Dao are you talking about, Zhi Xuan? The Dao that forces you to fight with torn wounds, that forces you to kill twenty helpless Souls just for cheap spiritual stones?"

  The Devil Soul manifestation moved closer, his devil-sculpted face now only inches from Zhi Xuan.

  "The Dao that makes you choose mass harvest over ethics? That is not Dao; that is you, you who want to surpass the heavens under which you take shelter."

  The dark purple-haired figure did not wait for an answer. His long, slender fingers, which looked like blood-stained jade, slowly stretched toward the forehead of the meditating Zhi Xuan.

  "You and I are the same, Zhi Xuan," the Devil Soul whispered, his tone now softening into a deadly persuasion. "You hate betrayal, you love efficiency. You seek validation amidst bloodshed. In this Arena, you found your true face, free from shadows and judgment. You are the Black-Haired Devil, and you like it."

  The Devil Soul pressed his index finger onto Zhi Xuan's forehead. There was no pain, only a perfect resonance that sent a wave of brutal warmth throughout the Sea of Consciousness.

  BRAGHH!

  The Wheel of Heavenly Samsara spun wildly, as if it had just been struck by heavenly lightning. The Azure Holy Flame wrapping the wheel dimmed for a moment, shocked by the primordial energy that crept in. The Law of Winter cracked, and the ice on the surface of the Sea of Consciousness began to melt into warm blood.

  The Devil manifestation used the truth as its poison. It did not attack with force; it attacked with understanding. Although it was only a thought from the devil seed that swallowed blood and desire, it was already very strong to shake his Dao Heart.

  "Let go..." The murmur sounded subtle and offered comfort, like a zither plucked with bones. "Let me handle the rest."

  Zhi Xuan felt the touch—not a physical touch, but a perfect soul resonance, a kiss from the deepest abyss of himself. It was the most dangerous comfort, a promise of freedom from pain and exhaustion.

  "You are just a devil thought! not my true soul," Zhi Xuan replied, his voice within the Sea of Consciousness trembling, with determination etched in his bones and meridians, refusing to surrender to the Devil Soul's whisper.

  Stolen story; please report.

  The Purple-Haired Devil Soul, with his finger still on Zhi Xuan's forehead, snorted. The amusement in his eyes vanished, replaced by the disappointment of a predator whose prey suddenly brought out a hidden claw.

  "Devil thought?" the figure repeated, his voice now cold again. "What Heavenly Law distinguishes Thought and Soul, Zhi Xuan? I am the core of all your blood that has been purified repeatedly by Sacrifice, Betrayal, and Coercion. I am the you who is praised in the arena."

  The Devil Soul withdrew his finger. Zhi Xuan's Sea of Consciousness immediately felt a burning emptiness.

  "You suppress the Law of Winter because you fear the loneliness it represents, and you welcome the Law of Spring from the Divine Cauldron, because you want to be reborn as a stronger version of me," the Devil Soul continued, now floating backward, letting Zhi Xuan face the chaos in his own Sea of Consciousness. "However, I will not force you. We are one vessel, and this storm belongs to you."

  The figure pointed downward. The blood ripples on the surface of Zhi Xuan's Sea of Consciousness grew larger, bringing with them the real physical pain—crushed ribs, a lacerated spiritual kidney. But quickly, it felt enveloped by something dark and calming, as if his soul was reconstructing itself.

  "Fight, Zhi Xuan. But, remember when you kill, remember who first justified your cruelty. That is us, you and I. If you die, I die with you. But if you live, we are a unity that will shake heaven and earth."

  The Devil Soul manifestation slowly faded, dissolving back into the Devil Seed which now shrunk again to the size of a black grape. Zhi Xuan's Sea of Consciousness violently fluctuated for a moment, then gradually became quiet, silent, and dark.

  Outside the Sea of Consciousness, in the dark stone cultivation room, Zhi Xuan let out a long, trembling sigh. Cold sweat drenched his red silk robe, mixing with dry bloodstains. The internal fight, though without physical clash, felt more exhausting than facing the Blood Reaver and the Deathbringer simultaneously.

  His eyes snapped open, his head spinning with a sharp, piercing pain, both hands raised to clutch his turbulent head. It was as if just one devil thought was capable of shattering his will and Heavenly Dao.

  Zhi Xuan's facial expression was a terrifying shift; he shook his head and roared, then shifted to be filled only with a cold gaze and a primordial surge of bloodlust, the next instant shifting to roaring and shaking his head to expel the remaining devil thought.

  Zhi Xuan roared lowly, his voice hoarse and barely audible within the isolated stone room, but the vibration felt like an earthquake tearing at the soul.

  He gripped his throbbing head with both hands, his knuckles turning white. His sapphire eyes now radiated a wild gold-jade light, fighting against the flash of blood-red coming from within.

  Every breath was a battle; every heartbeat was a battlefield. The Devil Soul did not use force; it used brutal truth infused by every drop of blood Zhi Xuan had spilled.

  "The Dao that makes you choose mass harvest over ethics? That is not Dao; that is you."

  The echo of those words felt like a heavenly hammer striking the foundation of his Dao cultivation, shattering the illusion of ethics he had been using to justify his actions.

  Yes, he hated loneliness. Yes, he hated the feeling of being unwanted. Yes, he loved the desire to keep moving forward. Yes, he sought validation. The Arena gave it to him. The Devil Soul was only a mirror holding a fire.

  "Silence!" Zhi Xuan roared, his voice now slightly clearer, filled with the pain of self-contradiction. He took a sharp breath, forcing his black jade essence to circulate, no longer to heal, but to suppress.

  The physical pain—cracked ribs, a lacerated spiritual kidney—now felt much lighter compared to the philosophical clash he had just experienced.

  He shook his head wildly, as if trying to expel the mist obscuring his view, but all he saw was the red-eye illusion and the blood-jade grin of his Devil Soul manifestation.

  "I am not you! You are not me!" Zhi Xuan yelled, his voice now returned to normal, but full of brutal despair.

  Every wisp of wind that blew in the dark room felt like the whisper of the devil soul,

  "You are the Black-Haired Devil. You like it, you consider it family, blood is your true family."

  Zhi Xuan punched the stone wall beside him with a trembling fist. The blow only yielded dust, but the piercing pain in his hand helped ground him, bringing him back from the primordial abyss to the reality of the dirty arena sand.

  'The Devil Soul is right,' Ruo Xianxue echoed, her voice now sounding so close, no longer distant and isolated. 'Victory is sweet, Monkey. The validation from the cheers of blood... that is the food you seek, after the bitterness of the Dao you walk.'

  Zhi Xuan closed his eyes again, focusing the Wheel of Heavenly Samsara on the Devil Seed point. He forcibly summoned the Law of Winter, not to freeze the Devil Soul, but to freeze his own desire.

  I do not want this.

  I only want money.

  I only want to be strong.

  He tried to convince himself, but the devil soul resonance had swallowed every feeling of being unwanted and abandoned that he felt, summarizing it into one undeniable conclusion. It was his soul that was not strong enough to withstand the turmoil, could not resist the desire to be given warmth.

  The truth was a poison more deadly than the Deathbringer's Essence Shattering Poison Orb. It pierced all the times he felt unwanted and discarded.

  "We cannot hide anymore. We must know who our enemy is. I cannot leave the village, Uncle Chen is on duty. Only you can be relied upon, Zhi Xuan."

  "Boy, your body is like a withered stalk!"

  "Come on, little devil, you will be a slave of the Zhu clan."

  "You are a curse, you only existed in a baby basket drifting in the river, you will bring disaster wherever you go!"

  The voices seemed to pierce him bitterly, which he had long tried to bury under a hard layer of determination, now rising, infused with the rotten warmth of the Devil Soul. They were no longer memories; they were accusing arguments.

  "No! I will not betray myself just by submitting to you!" Zhi Xuan let out a muffled howl, a sound that could barely penetrate his constricted throat. He forced himself to get up, no longer caring about the straw mat. He stood, his body shaking violently, like a jade statue struck by heavenly lightning.

  He forced the Law of Winter to its absolute limit, creating a cold wave that spread throughout his meridians, attempting to freeze every thread of pleasure left by the Devil Soul's laughter. But the Law of Winter only felt cold and painful, reaffirming the loneliness he wanted to avoid.

  "I am a Dao cultivator! I am not a slave to desire!" Zhi Xuan roared, his sapphire eyes fighting against the threatening red flash.

  Suddenly, he stopped. All his trembling subsided. The roar in his throat vanished. His sapphire eyes no longer struggled; they only stared blankly at the stone wall in front of him.

  His black jade essence, which had been wildly turbulent, now suddenly became calm, silent, and extremely cold. In his Sea of Consciousness, the Wheel of Heavenly Samsara slowed down, not due to exhaustion, but due to a consensus etched in his soul.

  He could no longer distinguish between right and wrong. The Heavenly Dao he pursued demanded sacrifice, betrayal, and loneliness. His Devil Soul offered comfort and validation for cruelty.

  Why refuse the truth if the truth is the most efficient? Why deny the self if the acknowledged self is the Black-Haired Devil?

  A thin, terrifying smile slowly bloomed on his blood-stained lips. It was not Zhi Xuan’s smile. It was a cold, primordial smile, filled with older authority.

  Zhi Xuan raised his hand. He looked at his hand, and in it, he no longer saw the hand of a struggling youth; he saw a claw ready to draw blood.

  The blood-red flash from within his eyes finally won. Not completely dominating, but merging. His sapphire eyes now had a subtle red circle in the iris, a faint sign of the Dao Fracture and the merging of Devil Desire with his main soul.

  Zhi Xuan waved his hand, his Divine Cauldron came out and spun over his hand, he smiled slightly looking at the cauldron. Then, Zhi Xuan raised his left hand, allowing the Heavenly Moth, Xiao Die, to float out from the folds of his robe.

  Its gentle rainbow light immediately filled the dark stone room. Xiao Die, who sensed the change and the fractured shift in her master's soul and essence, hummed vigilantly.

  "Do not worry," Zhi Xuan whispered, his voice now softening only for his spiritual creature. "You will not attack, you will only watch me."

  Zhi Xuan, stiffly and feeling rough, did not conceal the dense, pure spiritual blood strength. He snapped the Azure Holy Flame on his finger, the dark purple flame feeling like the same face, just like himself. He snapped his finger, and the flame seeped back into his body.

  Zhi Xuan stepped slowly, his movement stiff and rough. With one step, he reached the stone room door. Waving his hand slowly, he slammed the divine cauldron toward the stone door.

  WHANG!

  The Divine Cauldron, now shrouded in a cold gold-jade aura yet filled with undeniable authority, struck the door sealing rune with calculated force. The stone door shifted, revealing Chu Feng standing outside, looking agitated.

  Chu Feng gasped, stepping back one step when he saw Zhi Xuan's eyes. The sapphire eyes were now framed by a faint red circle, like a ring of blood eclipse surrounding a frozen star. The youth's jade face was pale from exhaustion, but his expression—a thin, stiff smile—was a mask of primordial cruelty.

  Zhi Xuan had changed, yet he remained the same.