The sensation of falling into the abyss was not like plummeting through air; it was like being dragged through a sea of crushed glass. The spatial distortion tore at Lu Chen's robes, threatening to shred his physical body into bloody mist. Yet, within his dantian, the newly evolved Earth-Rank Void Root pulsed with a terrifying, rhythmic heartbeat.
Instead of being crushed, the Void Root passively consumed the violent spatial energy, converting the lethal pressure into a dark, cooling current that stabilized his descent. Lu Chen's eyes snapped open. The Luck-Binding Mirror in his mind's eye hummed, casting a pale, ethereal light over his surroundings.
He landed without a sound.
The chamber he found himself in defied all natural laws of the Great Azure Realm. Waterfalls of heavy, silver mercury flowed upward toward a fractured ceiling. The gravity was skewed, pulling his hair slightly to the left, while shattered pillars of white jade floated lazily through the air like driftwood in a stagnant pond. This was a pocket dimension, a sealed bubble hidden deep within the Ancient Sword Tomb.
And he was not alone.
At the center of the chamber, atop a massive dais carved with primordial runes, stood a pedestal. Hovering above it was a blade of breathtaking beauty. It was a broadsword, fractured down the middle, yet bound together by arcs of crackling golden lightning. The Qi Yun—the providence radiating from it—was so thick it looked like a burning golden sun. This was no ordinary artifact; it was a fragment of a Sovereign's legacy.
Reaching for the hilt was a towering figure clad in the pristine, silver-trimmed azure robes of the Azure Cloud Sect.
Lu Chen recognized the broad shoulders, the arrogant posture, and the heavy, blood-soaked aura immediately. It was Mo Han, the Commander of the Azure Cloud Enforcers and Fang Tianyou's most fanatical attack dog.
"To think the legends were true," Mo Han's voice echoed, thick with greedy reverence as his fingers ghosted over the crackling hilt. "The Severing Edge. A sword forged from the marrow of a fallen deity. With this, Young Master Fang will secure his place as the Infinite Sword Sovereign. No one in the Nine Provinces will dare question his divine right!"
Through the lens of the Luck-Binding Mirror, Lu Chen looked at Mo Han. The commander possessed a staggering pillar of crimson and gold Qi Yun, representing immense martial talent and a destiny steeped in the blood of his enemies. He was at the absolute peak of Foundation Establishment, half a step into the Golden Core realm.
"A fine sword," Lu Chen's voice broke the silence, cold and flat, drifting through the ruined chamber like a winter breeze. "Pity it will be buried with a dog."
Mo Han's hand froze. He turned slowly, his eyes narrowing as he locked onto the figure emerging from the shadows of a floating jade pillar. For a moment, confusion flickered across his scarred face. Then, recognition dawned, followed by a cruel, mocking sneer.
"Chen Lu. The little rat who likes to play tricks," Mo Han laughed, withdrawing his hand from the sword and drawing his own weapon—a heavy sabre that thrummed with fiery Sword Intent. "I don't know how a piece of trash like you survived the valley, or how you stumbled into this sealed space. But you have saved me the trouble of hunting you down. The Young Master wants your head on a pike."
"Your Young Master is a thief playing dress-up," Lu Chen replied, his expression entirely devoid of emotion. He took a step forward, his plain iron sword sliding from its sheath. "And you are just the parasite feeding off the scraps of his stolen destiny."
Mo Han's aura exploded. The sheer pressure of his half-step Golden Core cultivation cracked the stone beneath his boots. "Insolent wretch! I will carve the flesh from your bones!"
He vanished.
Mo Han's speed was terrifying, a testament to his heavy providence. He appeared directly above Lu Chen, his flaming sabre descending with the force of a falling meteor. "Azure Cloud Annihilation Slash!"
It was a strike meant to obliterate not just the body, but the soul. The air screamed as the fiery Sword Intent vaporized the ambient spiritual energy.
Lu Chen did not dodge. He didn't even blink.
In the depths of his soul, the Luck-Binding Mirror rotated. The golden pillar of Mo Han's providence suddenly flickered, a tiny thread of misfortune weaving into his destiny. At the exact moment the sabre fell, the skewed gravity of the chamber violently shifted by a fraction of a degree.
It was a minuscule change, but in high-level cultivation combat, a millimeter was a chasm.
Mo Han's strike missed Lu Chen's collarbone by a hair's breadth, burying itself into the jade floor. A shockwave of fire erupted, but Lu Chen was already inside the commander's guard.
"Void Severance," Lu Chen whispered.
He didn't unleash a massive, flashy attack. Instead, Lu Chen channeled his newly evolved Earth-Rank Void Root into his iron sword. The blade turned pitch black, absorbing all light around it.
Lu Chen slashed upward.
There was no sound of clashing metal. There was no explosion of Qi. There was only the sickening sensation of absence. Mo Han's fiery Sword Intent—a technique honed over decades of slaughter—was simply erased. The Void Sword Intent devoured the energy, leaving nothing but dead air.
Mo Han gasped, his eyes widening in pure horror as his sabre, an earth-grade artifact, dissolved into grey ash where Lu Chen's blade had touched it.
"What... what demonic art is this?!" Mo Han stumbled back, clutching the severed hilt of his weapon. His confidence, built on a lifetime of superiority, began to fracture.
"It is the end of your luck," Lu Chen stated coldly.
He didn't give Mo Han time to recover. Lu Chen advanced, his footwork a ghost-like dance born from the Abyss. Every time Mo Han tried to summon his Qi to defend himself, Lu Chen's Void Intent swallowed it whole. It was a suffocating, despair-inducing assault.
Desperation twisted Mo Han's face. He turned and lunged for the pedestal. "I am the General of the Azure Cloud! I am chosen by heaven!"
His hand clamped around the hilt of the Severing Edge. Golden lightning surged up his arm, injecting him with ancient, violent power. Mo Han roared, his muscles bulging as the legendary sword accepted him as its temporary master. He swung the massive blade in a horizontal arc, unleashing a wave of golden devastation that tore the dimensional space itself.
"Die!"
Lu Chen stopped his advance. He looked at the incoming wave of golden destruction, and a dark, predatory smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"You think providence can save you from the Void?" Lu Chen raised his left hand, aiming his palm directly at the roaring Mo Han.
In his mind, the Luck-Binding Mirror flashed with blinding intensity. The mirror locked onto the massive pillar of Mo Han's Qi Yun.
Plunder.
An invisible, irresistible force clamped down on Mo Han's soul. The golden wave of energy from the Severing Edge suddenly sputtered and died, inches from Lu Chen's face. Mo Han froze, a horrific choking sound escaping his throat.
He could physically feel his destiny being ripped from his spiritual sea. The golden aura surrounding him was violently inhaled by the dark vortex within Lu Chen's dantian.
"No... my Qi... my fortune..." Mo Han fell to his knees, his skin rapidly aging, his vibrant energy withering into the husk of a mortal. The Severing Edge, sensing the sudden absence of its wielder's luck, violently rejected him. The golden lightning flared, scorching Mo Han's hands to the bone.
He screamed, dropping the blade.
Lu Chen walked forward, the sound of his footsteps echoing like a death knell. He stood over the broken commander.
"You..." Mo Han coughed up black blood, looking up at Lu Chen with eyes devoid of life and filled with abyssal terror. "You are the anomaly... the Sovereign of the Void... Tianyou's root... it told us to fear the dark..."
"Tell him I am coming for it," Lu Chen said softly.
With a flick of his wrist, Lu Chen's dark blade cleanly decapitated Mo Han. The commander's head rolled across the floor, his eyes frozen in absolute despair.
Instantly, the Luck-Binding Mirror feasted. A massive torrent of pure, liquid gold providence surged into Lu Chen. His Earth-Rank Void Root vibrated with ecstasy, condensing the stolen luck into pure, unfiltered cultivation essence. Lu Chen's aura spiked, his Foundation Establishment base solidifying, pushing him ever closer to the Golden Core threshold.
He stepped over the corpse and reached out, wrapping his hand around the hilt of the Severing Edge.
The sword struggled for a fraction of a second, but faced with the absolute, consuming emptiness of the Void Root, it surrendered. The golden lightning faded into a docile hum, submitting to the true predator of the realm.
Lu Chen exhaled, feeling the immense power of the ancient weapon settling into his grip.
But the moment of triumph was violently interrupted.
CRACK.
A sound like the shattering of the sky echoed through the chamber. The air above Mo Han's headless corpse began to twist and tear. A blood-red array materialized in the air—a forbidden soul-tether mechanism.
Mo Han's death had triggered a spatial anchor.
The dimensional fabric was violently ripped open from the outside. Through the jagged, bleeding spatial rift, an overwhelming aura poured in. It was an aura so bright, so artificially blinding, that it made the very heavens weep.
Stepping through the rift was a young man clad in golden robes, his eyes burning with a mixture of aristocratic fury and undeniable shock. Around him, the phantom image of a pristine, heavenly Innate Spirit Root pulsed with the stolen light of a thousand destinies.
Fang Tianyou.
For a moment, the world stood entirely still.
Inside Lu Chen's dantian, the artificial Void Root suddenly convulsed, releasing a soundless, predatory roar. Across the chamber, the stolen Innate Spirit Root within Fang Tianyou's chest violently resonated, pulsing with a traumatic, agonizing throb that made Fang stagger.
The two roots—one stolen, one forged in the abyss—recognized each other.
Fang Tianyou clutched his chest, his golden eyes locking onto the dark, unassuming figure holding the Severing Edge. The charismatic facade of the Azure Cloud Sect's 'Chosen One' cracked, replaced by a primal, instinctual dread he hadn't felt since he threw a crippled boy into the Abyss of Despair.
"You..." Fang Tianyou's voice trembled, a mixture of rage and disbelief echoing through the torn spatial chamber. "It's impossible. You died in the dark."
Lu Chen slowly raised the Severing Edge, the tip pointing directly at Fang Tianyou's heart. A terrifying, void-like smile spread across his face, devoid of any warmth, promising only the absolute consumption of all things.
"I did," Lu Chen whispered, his voice resonating with the weight of the abyss. "And now, I have come to collect my rent."