Old Demonic Fu was not an ordinary demonic cultivator.

Even among demonic cultivators, his name once carried terror.

Pure terror.

Back when he still possessed his fleshly body and had yet to become a trapped spirit inside a mirror, countless sects feared hearing the three words Blood Soul Elder.

Because wherever Old Demonic Fu appeared, death followed afterward.

Not ordinary death either.

Whole sects vanished overnight.

Villages disappeared without corpses remaining behind.

Cultivators who offended him had their souls extracted alive while screaming for mercy for days without end.

And Old Demonic Fu enjoyed every second of it.

During his younger years, he woke up and lived inside a mortal village located near poisonous swamps filled with corpse insects and venomous mist. He didn’t know where he came from, or why he didn’t remember the rest of his childhood but that village he woke up to did not produce immortal cultivators.

It only produced corpses.

Yet somehow, Old Demonic Fu survived.

Not only survived—

He adapted.

While other children cried from starvation, he learned stealing.

While other children feared corpses floating inside swamp waters, he learned dissecting them.

And when plague spread throughout the village, he alone remained calm while watching everyone rot alive.

At twelve years old, he already understood something terrifying about the cultivation world.

Mercy was weakness.

Kindness was stupidity.

Only the cruel survived long enough to become strong.

And eventually—

A wandering demonic cultivator discovered him.

That demonic cultivator later regretted it.

Because years afterward, Old Demonic Fu personally refined his master into a soul lantern after poisoning him during cultivation.

That was the beginning.

From then onward, his rise became stained completely with blood.

He cultivated forbidden corpse arts.

He refined living humans into spiritual medicine.

He massacred caravans.

Destroyed clans.

Devoured wandering souls.

And each time he grew stronger, he became more terrifying.

During his Core Formation years, he once slaughtered an entire mountain sect after one disciple insulted his robe.

Not one hundred.

Not two hundred.

Thousands died.

Even children.

Even spirit beasts.

Even servants.

The rivers beneath the mountain turned red for three days afterward.

And during his Nascent Soul breakthrough—

He used eight hundred living cultivators as sacrifice.

Their screaming souls became nourishment for his breakthrough.

The heavens themselves thundered angrily during his ascension into Nascent Soul Realm.

Yet he survived.

Because Old Demonic Fu was terrifyingly clever.

He never fought fairly.

Never.

He poisoned rivals before battles began.

He used soul parasites.

Blood curses.

Soul extraction arrays.

Spirit collapsing formations.

Corpse puppets.

And even illusion realms capable of trapping cultivators until their minds broke completely.

Many righteous cultivators tried killing him before.

None succeeded.

One sect elder hunted him for thirty years across several kingdoms.

Old Demonic Fu later skinned him alive.

Another Nascent Soul expert once cornered him near a forbidden sea.

Old Demonic Fu escaped by detonating thousands of trapped souls beneath the ocean.

The explosion erased half the coastline.

That was the kind of monster he was.

And yet—

Right now—

Old Demonic Fu honestly believed one thing clearly.

The most terrifying existence he had ever encountered was not a demon emperor.

Not an ascendant cultivator.

Not an ancient beast.

Not a heavenly tribulation.

Not even the mysterious higher realm rumors pursued by countless immortal cultivators.

No.

It was this faceless God connected somehow toward the tiny and puny Silent Sword Sect.

This existence.

This impossible creature.

This horrifying faceless giant whose mere fingers could flatten Nascent Soul cultivators like insects.

Old Demonic Fu still could not understand it.

Even now.

Especially now.

He had been killed.

Not defeated.

Not suppressed.

Killed.

And afterward—

His soul became trapped inside a mirror.

A mirror he could not damage.

Not even slightly.

He tried demonic curses.

Nothing happened.

He used soul attacks.

Nothing happened.

He attempted blood erosion techniques.

Nothing happened.

Even his Nascent Soul spiritual pressure could not leave a single mark.

It was absolute despair.

Complete despair.

And now—

He was being carried around like a toy.

Old Demonic Fu silently stared upward from inside the mirror afterward while fear slowly accumulated inside his spirit.

Just what kind of existence was this faceless God?

Why did it possess boundless spiritual energy beyond even what he could comprehend?

Why did the aura around it feel endless?

It was like staring toward a sky with no limit.

No matter how hard Old Demonic Fu sensed—

He could not reach the end.

Meanwhile, after mocking the Silent Sword Sect disciple earlier, Old Demonic Fu suddenly felt movement.

The mirror trapping him was lifted.

Immediately afterward—

The scenery around him changed.

And the moment he arrived there—

Old Demonic Fu froze completely.

Darkness.

Boundless darkness.

An endless abyss like night stretched beyond his vision.

Cold.

Silent.

Heavy.

His soul instantly trembled afterward.

Because the environment surrounding him did not feel like ordinary space.

No.

It felt ancient.

Primordial.

The darkness alone made his Nascent Soul spirit feel unstable.

As if simply remaining exposed there for too long would corrode him into nothingness.

Old Demonic Fu’s breathing instinctively became rough afterward despite already lacking a fleshly body.

What place was this?

What realm was this?!

Could this truly be the higher realm countless cultivators desperately sought through endless cultivation?!

Was this the true destination beyond Ascendant Realm?!

Meanwhile, the faceless God suddenly spoke casually afterward.

"Oh, you’re alive."

Old Demonic Fu instantly focused completely.

Meanwhile, the God continued speaking calmly.

"How strange."

"Usually the things I take out from that tiny cultivation world turn into nothingness."

"It seems Nascent Soul cultivators are worthy after all."

Old Demonic Fu remained silent afterward.

Because he knew the truth.

This had absolutely nothing to do with his cultivation.

Nothing.

It was the mirror.

The mirror protecting him.

If the mirror shattered right now—

The horrifying unknown energy surrounding this place would erase his spirit instantly.

No doubt about it.

Meanwhile, the faceless God suddenly spoke again.

"I’ll show you something."

Before Old Demonic Fu could react—

The mirror moved.

And afterward—

Old Demonic Fu saw it.

The staircase.

Completely filled with corpses.

Not human corpses.

Not ordinary corpses.

These creatures looked horrifying beyond belief.

Rotting flesh.

Broken jaws.

Bloodied mouths.

Twisted limbs.

White lifeless eyes.

And yet—

Despite already dead—

The aura surrounding those creatures still felt deeply unsettling.

Old Demonic Fu instantly became disturbed afterward.

Because he had experienced countless horrifying things during his life.

He saw soul beasts consuming children alive.

He once walked through a cursed city where corpses continued screaming after death.

He fought ghost kings.

Corpse emperors.

Blood fiends.

Even ancient plague cultivators.

But these creatures—

These creatures felt wrong.

Completely wrong.

No spiritual qi.

No cultivation.

No soul fluctuations.

Yet somehow—

They moved.

They hunted.

They devoured.

And the sheer amount stacked throughout the staircase made Old Demonic Fu’s spirit tremble slightly.

Because he immediately imagined something horrifying.

What if these creatures spread endlessly?

What if entire kingdoms drowned beneath them?

What if cultivators became infected too?

The thought alone made him uncomfortable.

Meanwhile, the faceless God suddenly laughed afterward.

"You know..."

"I killed these shits so easily by doing this."

Suddenly—

Old Demonic Fu saw a small shard flick outward.

The movement looked casual.

Almost playful.

Then instantly—

BOOM!

The head of one undead exploded apart violently.

Brain matter splattered everywhere.

Old Demonic Fu instantly became silent afterward.

Completely silent.

Because that attack—

That simple attack—

Felt horrifying beyond reason.

The speed.

The force.

The terrifying compression of energy.

Old Demonic Fu was absolutely certain.

If that attack targeted the Blood Soul Sect—

The entire sect would disappear.

Everything.

Buildings.

Disciples.

Elders.

Mountains.

Nothing would survive.

Meanwhile, the faceless God casually continued observing the undead corpses afterward like this horrifying scene was ordinary.

Old Demonic Fu slowly stared toward the dead creatures afterward.

Then gradually—

Something inside his mind clicked.

A terrifying realization.

These creatures.

These undead monsters.

This strange terrifying world.

This faceless giant.

This endless abyss beyond the mirror.

None of it matched the cultivation world he knew.

Not even slightly.

And suddenly—

Old Demonic Fu felt something resembling enlightenment.

An epiphany.

Slowly—

He closed his eyes afterward.

Meanwhile, outside the mirror—

Clayne misunderstood completely.

He thought the old demonic cultivator finally became terrified after seeing the undead corpses and the outside world.

Then eventually, Clayne simply became bored afterward.

So casually—

He returned Old Demonic Fu back into the tiny immortal world once more.