The Tale Of The Demonic Sword God

A heavy silence loomed over the grand hall of Azure Cloud Sect. The once-unshakable sect now trembled under the weight of fear, an unfamiliar sensation to those who had spent centuries basking in power. Seated in the center of the grand hall was Sect Master Liu Tianhai, his usually composed face grim with an uncharacteristic hint of worry. The elders stood around him, their expressions betraying their unease.

A trembling disciple rushed in, dropping to his knees as he cupped his fists in salute. "Sect Master! Another branch sect has fallen!"

Murmurs spread like wildfire among the elders.

Liu Tianhai's fingers curled into his armrest, his knuckles turning white. "Which one?" he asked, his voice colder than a winter's wind.

"All of our branches of small sects, my lord."

A sharp intake of breath filled the hall. The elders exchanged glances, their worst fears confirmed.

One of the elders, Elder Xu, stepped forward. "This is no longer a coincidence. Mo Wuyuan is back… and he is hunting us down one by one."

A storm of rage and unease brewed in Liu Tianhai's eyes. "That cripple should've died the moment he was cast out. How has he gained such strength?"

Elder Xu's face darkened. "The reports claim that he wields a demonic blade unlike anything seen before. The disciples say it devours the weapons of the fallen. He has also gained control over Blood Qi and Shadow Steps. If this is true… he has become a monster."

Liu Tianhai exhaled sharply, his gaze flickering with a cold glint. "Then we must snuff him out before he grows any stronger."

The elders nodded in agreement. The time for discussion was over—action was needed.

Liu Tianhai turned his gaze toward a young man standing at the edge of the hall, clad in immaculate Azure Cloud robes embroidered with the sect's sigil. His posture was straight, and a confident smirk played upon his lips.

"Jiang Feng," Liu Tianhai called.

The young man stepped forward, kneeling before the sect master. "Yes, Sect Master."

"You are one of our strongest inheritance disciples. You have already reached the normal rank of the Earthly Saint Stage—that should be more than enough to eliminate a mere Demon Soldier Stage enemy."

Jiang Feng bowed deeply, his smirk widening. "Rest assured, Sect Master. I will carve Mo Wuyuan's head from his shoulders and bring it back to you."

The elders murmured in approval, convinced that Jiang Feng's strength would put an end to this nightmare.

But none of them realized that they were sending him straight to his doom.

Meanwhile at a Village two miles from Azure Cloud Sect – A Village Motel...

The dim glow of lanterns flickered against the wooden walls of the roadside motel, the scent of roasted duck and cheap wine wafting through the air. I sat in a secluded corner of the tavern, my freshly purchased black-crimson robes flowing like liquid shadow over my form. The garments were tailored to perfection, their crimson patterns resembling wisps of blood curling against the darkness of the fabric.

With the loot from the fallen sects, I had acquired everything I needed—new clothes, a proper supply of weapons, and a temporary resting place before my final march toward Azure Cloud Sect.

The Crimson Veil whispered within my mind, a low hum of satisfaction.

"You have done well, Wuyuan. But power alone will not be enough. Concealment is as vital as strength. No one must sense your presence before the right moment."

Following its teachings, I had erased the traces of my demonic qi, making me indistinguishable from a common traveler. Even if a cultivator with a sharp sense were nearby, they wouldn't suspect a thing.

As I sipped a cup of wine, the wooden doors creaked open, and in walked a familiar face.

Jiang Feng.

My former junior martial brother.

Once, he had looked up to me with eyes full of admiration, eager to train under my guidance. He had followed me like a loyal shadow, always speaking of how he respected and admired my talent.

But on the day I was framed, crippled, and exiled, he was just like the others.

He stood among the crowd, watching with amusement as I was humiliated and cast out.

Now, fate had pulled our paths back together.

He had yet to notice me, his arrogance evident in the way he strode in as if he owned the place. His Azure Cloud robes were immaculate, his sword strapped neatly to his waist, and his expression carried the smug confidence of someone who thought they had already won.

But the moment his gaze landed on me, his smirk faltered.

"Wuyuan?" he murmured, disbelief flashing across his face.

I placed my cup down, looking at him with the faintest smile. "Junior Brother Jiang. It has been a long time."

Jiang Feng's eyes narrowed. He studied me, likely searching for the broken, crippled outcast he had once known. But I was no longer that man.

"You should be dead," he said finally, his voice cold.

"Many have wished for my death," I mused, "but fate is cruel. Here I stand, while those who conspired against me are nothing more than corpses rotting in the dirt."

Jiang Feng scoffed. "You think you've become something great just because you took down some weak sects?"

He stepped forward, his Earthly Saint Stage qi beginning to rise. "You are nothing, Wuyuan. You were trash then, and you are trash now. It's time you accept your place in the dirt."

I let out a quiet chuckle, my fingers tracing the hilt of Heaven's End. "You should be careful with your words, Jiang Feng. The last man who spoke to me like that lost his head."

Jiang Feng's patience snapped. He lunged.

The moment he attacked, I activated Shadow Steps. My body blurred, vanishing just before his sword could reach me.

"Too slow."

I reappeared behind him in an instant, my blade slashing down toward his exposed back. But he spun, barely managing to deflect my strike with his own sword. Sparks ignited as steel met steel, the sheer force of our clash shaking the wooden floor beneath us.

Jiang Feng's sword gleamed with golden light as he unleashed a wave of sword qi, aiming to cut me down in one strike.

I dodged, stepping to the side with fluid precision. "Is that all, Junior Brother?"

Jiang Feng gritted his teeth. "Arrogant bastard!"

With a roar, he activated Azure Cloud Sect's signature technique—Thousand Sky Severing Blades.

Golden blades materialized in the air, forming a swirling storm of destruction.

I smirked. "Let's see if your techniques can withstand mine."

Dark qi exploded from my body as I activated the first form of Heaven's End Sword Art—Shadow Rend.

A single devastating slash cut through all one thousand of his summoned blades in an instant.

Jiang Feng's expression twisted in shock.

"Impossible—!"

Before he could react, I closed the distance, my movements like a phantom in the night. My sword sliced across his chest, blood erupting in the air like a crimson mist.

He stumbled back, eyes wide in disbelief. "You… you're a monster…"

I pointed Heaven's End at him, my voice ice-cold.

"No. I am the reaper that has come to collect the debts of the past."

With a final, merciless strike—I cut him down.

The motel was silent.

Blood pooled around Jiang Feng's lifeless body, his Azure Cloud Sect robes torn and soaked in crimson. The scent of iron lingered in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of burning oil from the lanterns above. The wooden walls were scorched and cracked, remnants of our battle etched into the very foundation of this place.

I exhaled slowly, lowering Heaven's End as the last traces of Jiang Feng's qi faded from existence.

Then, it happened.

A violent storm of demonic qi erupted from within me, twisting and reshaping my body in ways I could barely comprehend. My very being burned with power, my muscles tightened, my veins surged with an overwhelming force. This was different from my previous breakthroughs. This wasn't just an increase in strength—this was a complete transformation.

I clenched my fists as a suffocating pressure radiated from my body. The wooden beams above me creaked in protest, the ground beneath my feet shattered, forming deep cracks that spread like the veins of a dying beast.

My cultivation surged past its previous limits, shattering the very barriers of the Demon General Stage.

I had not just advanced one stage.

I had ascended two stages.

I had become a Demon King.

From Demon Soldier Stage… to Low-Rank Demon King Stage.

"Hahaha… magnificent." The Crimson Veil's voice slithered into my mind, filled with dark amusement. "You were already beyond the realm of a mere Demon General… but now? Now, you have entered the domain of kings."

The power coursing through me was immeasurable.

A Demon King's power was equal to that of a Heavenly Lord Stage cultivator—a realm that could turn mountains into dust, split rivers with a flick of the wrist, and command legions with a mere thought.

Jiang Feng had come to kill me.

Yet, in the end, he was nothing more than my stepping stone.

"The heavens must weep to see your rise, Wuyuan." The Crimson Veil hummed, "but do not become complacent. You are strong, but your enemies still outnumber you. You must refine your abilities before taking your vengeance further."

I nodded, gripping Heaven's End tighter. "Then teach me."

The Crimson Veil chuckled darkly. "Very well. You are ready to wield the true gifts of a Demon King. Pay attention, Wuyuan… for I shall teach you techniques that will make you unstoppable."

I knelt on one knee, closing my eyes, allowing the demonic spirit's knowledge to flood my mind.

And then, the lessons began.

"First, the Blood Armor—a defensive art that will allow you to create an exoskeleton of hardened demonic qi and blood essence."

Images of the technique flooded my mind. The armor wasn't just a protective shell—it was an extension of my own being, a living construct of my will and malice.

I raised my hand, focusing the newly refined demonic qi coursing through me. Dark crimson tendrils began to coil around my body, merging and solidifying into hardened plates. My entire form was soon encased in an exoskeleton of blood and darkness, glowing with an ominous aura.

I flexed my fingers. The armor felt light as air yet radiated an unbreakable pressure.

"This armor is not just for defense," the Crimson Veil explained. "It absorbs damage and converts it into qi, replenishing your strength mid-battle. The more you fight, the more unstoppable you become."

I smirked. An armor that grew stronger the longer I fought?

I liked the sound of that.

"Next, I will teach you Phantom Steps, the superior version of your Shadow Steps."

Unlike its predecessor, Phantom Steps wasn't just about speed—it was about erasing my presence entirely.

I took a deep breath, letting the technique take form. My body flickered—one moment, I was standing still, and the next, I had vanished entirely. Not even my killing intent remained.

Phantom afterimages flickered in and out of existence, my movements becoming unpredictable and untouchable.

"No enemy will be able to track your true location," the Crimson Veil purred. "Against weaker foes, they will see dozens of illusions, all moving at once. Against stronger foes, even if they detect your presence, they will not be able to react in time."

"Now, let us move to Demonic Qi Projection—the art of manifesting killing intent into tangible attacks."

This was more than just an aura of oppression. This was the ability to weaponize pure malice.

I focused, letting my rage and hatred take shape. Dark spears of qi materialized around me, floating like phantoms in the air. With a single thought, they shot forward, tearing apart the wooden beams of the ruined motel.

The destruction was instantaneous.

"A technique of absolute dominance," the Crimson Veil laughed. "The more enemies you kill, the more potent your projections become. Soon, you will be able to slaughter with your presence alone."

"And finally," the Crimson Veil's voice dropped to a whisper, "the most terrifying ability of all—Infernal Domain."

Infernal Domain was not a technique.

It was an extension of my very existence.

I spread my arms, letting pure demonic qi flow from my body, extending beyond my physical form. The air darkened, a suffocating aura blanketing the ruined motel. The walls trembled. The air itself seemed to shrink, as if reality could barely hold back the weight of my presence.

Any cultivator weaker than me—if they had been here—would have already collapsed, unable to move under the sheer weight of my Infernal Domain.

"You now command your own personal realm," the Crimson Veil declared. "Within it, demonic qi flourishes, and all who are weaker than you will crumble before your might."

I clenched my fist, feeling the raw authority that came with this power.

If I had possessed this technique when I was betrayed, those cowards wouldn't have even been able to stand in my presence.

I opened my eyes.

A Demon King had descended upon the world.

The lesson ended. I stood in the wreckage of the motel, the blood of my fallen enemy pooling beneath my feet.

I turned my gaze toward the distant mountains, where Azure Cloud Sect stood.

Jiang Feng had been the first, but he would not be the last.

I was no longer a crippled disciple.

I was no longer a mere Demon Soldier.

I was a Demon King.

And I was coming for them.