The other disciples remained silent, but they were clearly unconvinced. Resentment in the human heart isn’t so easily erased.

"Senior Brother Qi, there are traces of Mo Family mechanisms in the southwest corner."

A disciple couldn’t help but cry out, as if he’d seen something unbelievable.

Qi Huan forced his thoughts aside and immediately led the group, quickening his pace toward the voice.

When the searchlight illuminated the hollow ahead, even the most defiant Yan Qi gasped. Hundreds, thousands of skeletons were laid out in a radial pattern. A rusted Bronze nail was embedded in every skull, and decayed chains linked the withered bones together into a bizarre Star Map.

"Demon Suppression Nails!"

After a long moment, Qi Huan slowly exhaled. He looked down at the skeleton closest to his feet. A decaying Bronze nail was driven straight into its forehead, with a web of fine, horrifying cracks spreading out across the White Bone.

Yan Qi suddenly cried out, "Look at the one in the southeast corner!"

The Yin River formed a swirling deep pool here. Half of a giant Bronze pillar jutted out from the pool’s edge at an angle.

At the end of the chains wrapped around the pillar was a jet-black skeleton, over ten feet tall.

Even after countless years, the skeleton remained frozen in a posture of roaring at the heavens. Its twelve pairs of ribs thrust toward the cavern roof like Curved Sabers. A six-inch spiral horn grew from its forehead, its surface covered in dark-red blood grooves.

Qi Huan’s Adam’s apple bobbed. The sole of his boot crushed a small finger bone, letting out a sickening CRUNCH.

Unconsciously, beads of sweat had formed on his forehead and begun to drip down. A cold sweat quickly soaked the back of his robes.

He raised his searchlight, illuminating the skeleton’s skull. The surface of the rusted Bronze nail was covered in dark, tadpole-like markings. A dark green crystal had oozed from a crack near the head of the nail.

"What is this..."

"It must be the skeleton of a Martial Dao expert."

"A skeleton can be this big?"

"Yue Mountain is over two and a half meters tall. It’s not like we’ve never seen someone ten feet tall before. I remember a few years ago, a general from the Great Zhou Dynasty came to the Celestial Craft Cave to request a weapon, and he was even taller than that."

"But look at the horn on its head. That’s not something a human can grow."

"Could it be the remains of a Demon Fiend?"

As the disciples chattered among themselves, Qi Huan, as if possessed, stepped forward and reached out to touch the horn.

The next moment, his body trembled slightly, and he froze in place like a statue.

The shocked cries of his sixteen disciples sounded distant, as if from behind a thick curtain of water. A sinister chill shot from his fingertip, up through his meridians, and straight into his mind.

The horn had liquefied at his touch. Dark red markings slithered up his arm like living creatures, forming a hideous demonic totem beneath his skin.

"Senior Brother Qi!"

Yan Qi’s anxious voice rang out as a Crossbow Arrow grazed past Qi Huan’s ear and struck the rock wall. He had tried to shatter the skeleton, but the arrow merely struck a spark against the bone. The remains were unscathed; instead, the Refined Steel arrow had shattered into pieces.

But the world in Qi Huan’s eyes had completely distorted. The Yin River had become a churning Sea of Blood, and every White Bone opened its hollow sockets to roar.

’Why?! Why isn’t my loyalty met with trust! I poured my heart and soul into the Celestial Craft Cave for so many years, only to be condemned for one single incident?’

Waves of blood crashed against a shore of piled skeletons. Each White Bone morphed into the familiar face of one of his fellow disciples.

He saw the skull of the Mo Family Hall Master, Zhu Xu, crack open its jaw. Its rusted Bronze dentures clacked together in a piercing sneer. "A dog from the Hidden Blade Pavilion thinks he’s worthy of touching the Celestial Craft Map?"

A nearby floating skull suddenly grew his master’s face. A shriek squeezed from its fractured throat. "You think kneeling and licking a blade can wash your bloodline clean? You are my disciple. Did you really think they would treat you as they once did? That they would still see you as the most talented disciple in the Celestial Craft Cave?

Wrong! Utterly wrong! That Xu Yunfan is the center of attention now, surrounded by adoring fans. Every Hall Master watches his every move. And you? You’re nothing but a rat in the gutter, completely ignored!"

’The year the Weapon Casting Hall was first established, who was it that stood guard over its grounds for seven grueling days and nights?!’

Qi Huan’s roar shattered the waves of blood, but more images emerged from the spray. He saw himself vomiting blood as he marked the weaknesses of mechanisms on an Ink Line Map, while Mo Han casually used his record of achievements as a coaster for a teacup.

He saw himself leading his disciples in a desperate defense of the fissure in the Ghostly Wail Abyss, while disciples from the Punishment Hall planted a secret letter—proof of treason—in his chambers.

’No, that wasn’t me! It wasn’t! I didn’t do it! What have you planted in my memories?!’

Qi Huan clutched his head and staggered backward. His expression was ferocious, veins throbbing at his temples as if they were about to burst through his skin.

A giant Bronze mirror rose from the Sea of Blood, replaying the scene of the victory banquet held three days prior, upon their arrival at the Ghostly Wail Abyss.

Qi Huan saw himself standing on the stone steps outside the hall, holding a gift. His ceremonial robes from the Hidden Blade Pavilion were soaked with sweat and stuck to his back. The disciples passing by treated him as if he were invisible; the respect they once held for him was gone.

"Senior Brother Xu is here!"

"Senior Brother Xu is here!"

He looked back to see Xu Yunfan, the Thunderfire Qilin Hammer on his back, walking into the banquet hall. He was the center of attention, flanked by an adoring crowd of disciples.

Mo Han’s hearty laugh echoed from within the hall.

"Get rid of the seats for the Hidden Blade Pavilion. Their First Disciple seems to prefer lurking in the shadows..."

The mirror’s surface was suddenly splattered with blood. The Blood Beads coalesced into an image of his Sixteen Guards having their weapons confiscated. Yan Qi clutched a hand with a severed finger, his face contorted in a tragic scream.

"Senior Brother Qi! They said our Sword Boxes would offend the honored guest!"

"I designed the Nine-Link Crossbow with my own hands! You change one decorative pattern and claim it’s a legacy of the Celestial Craft Cave!"

Qi Huan’s Profound Steel Sword shattered the Blood Mirror, but the shards transformed into thousands of barbed Imperial Decrees.

The Cinnabar script on the decrees dripped with venom: "Those of the Hidden Blade Pavilion shall never hold a position of central authority."

He recognized it. It was the opening line of the *Loyalty and Righteousness Edict*, which he had been forced to copy three hundred times on his birthday last year.

A rotting hand suddenly reached out from the pile of White Bones, its palm holding a still-beating heart.

The Demon Fiend’s beguiling voice mingled with the pulsing of his own blood. "Look at the sect brothers you protect. While they feasted at the victory banquet, did they save even a single grain of rice for the dog sent to exorcise spirits in the gutter?"

The Demon Fiend’s skeleton suddenly rose. Its jet-black claws pierced his chest and closed around his beating heart.

Amid the searing pain, Qi Huan heard an androgynous whisper in his ear. "Do you want the power to take revenge? To take back everything you’ve lost, openly and rightfully? If they will not give it, you will snatch it. If they are unwilling, you will seize it. Kill anyone who objects. Those who follow you shall prosper; those who oppose you shall die!

Can you smell it? The delicious Primordial Spirit rising from the Earth Veins... It will grant you supreme power!"

"Senior Brother Qi!!"

In reality, the sixteen disciples watched as Qi Huan suddenly collapsed to his knees. From his Sword Box, the six remaining Profound Steel Longswords of varying lengths shot out. They hummed, hovering in mid-air to encircle him completely.

The sight made all the disciples stop in their tracks, their faces etched with shock.

Unable to restrain himself, Yan Qi stepped forward.

The six hovering swords suddenly let out a piercing buzz. The wavy patterns on their spines began to glow with a dark, bloody light.

Yan Qi’s fingertips were still three inches from Qi Huan’s shoulder when one of the longswords shot forward, piercing his throat.