Villains Aren't Stepping Stones!

Chapter 114: Chapter 115: Three Perspectives

The cold, biting winds of the Northern Continent finally began to recede into the distance as the group crossed the threshold of the Northern Branch of the Conferred Pagoda.

The obsidian towers, etched with silver runes that hummed with a protective frequency, stood as a stark reminder of the order and power the Shen Clan maintained even in the most desolate corners of the lower realm.

At this moment, Ling Luochen, Shen Haoran, Shangguan Mu’er, and Qing’er finally returned to the heart of the Conferred Pagoda’s sanctum.

The journey back from the Saint’s secret realm had been silent, each of them lost in the reflections of the trials they had endured and the treasures they had secured.

Ling Luochen stepped forward first, her blood-red eyes reflecting a new, tempered light.

The breakthrough to the Core Formation realm had stabilized her foundation, but the insights she had gained from the third trial of the heart required deep, uninterrupted meditation to fully integrate into her soul.

”Young master,” Luochen began, her voice soft yet firm with resolve, ”I would like to refine what I received from that secret realm. The heritage of that expert is domineering; if I do not tame it now, it may affect my future path. Forgive me for not being able to entertain you during your stay.”

Shangguan Mu’er, standing beside her disciple, also bowed with a grace that befitted a Great Elder, her bluish-silver hair caught the dim light of the hallway. ”The same goes for me, young master. The Cultivation technique is profound beyond my initial estimates. And I also need to refine the artifact that was given to me.”

Shen Haoran stood with his hands tucked into his flowing sleeves, his golden eyes scanning the two women with a look of indifferent approval.

He appreciated their drive; a flower that did not seek to grow in the presence of the sun was a flower not worth keeping.

”Go,” Haoran said, his voice echoing slightly in the high-arched hall. ”I also have something to do. The treasures of a Saint are not easily digested; do not come out until your foundations are as solid as the most precious diamond.”

”We obey,” the two women said in unison.

With one last respectful bow, they turned and left for their respective private residences, their auras already beginning to pull inward as they prepared for the grueling process of secluded cultivation.

Haoran watched them go for a moment before turning his head slightly toward the shadow that always followed him. ”Qing’er, follow me.”

Qing’er followed without any questions.

Her presence was as silent as a ghost, her red eyes ever-watchful, her loyalty a constant that required no words.

She knew the Young Master had obtained something far greater than simple scrolls or artifacts, she just have no idea what it is.

Perhaps he will tell her later.

*

*

*

At this moment, in the Prime Origin Realm, within the central heart of the Shen Clan Domain, the atmosphere was one of triumphant, albeit bloody, peace.

In one of Chu Xueyu’s private palace—a structure of white jade and crimson silk that sat atop a floating mountain—the scent of sandalwood and spilled wine hung in the air.

Chu Xueyu, the Ruthless Empress, sat upon her throne, her gaze fixed on the young woman standing before her.

Ning Xueli, the girl Haoran had brought from the backwater region a year ago, stood tall, and unlike a year ago, she now radiated a terrifying, sharp aura that made the very air around her vibrate with killing intent.

Her once-soft, inexperienced, eyes were now cold and focused, a testament to the baptism of fire she had undergone.

”How was your mission?” Chu Xueyu asked, her voice carrying the weight of a sovereign.

Ning Xueli cupped her hands, her movements crisp and disciplined. ”I have annihilated those disciples hiding in the Northern Region, aunt. The remnants of the Golden Cloud Sect who sought refuge in the frozen caves have been erased. Not a single soul escaped to tell the tale.”

Chu Xueyu nodded in satisfaction.

A year ago, when the Shen Clan declared war against the Golden Cloud Immortal Sect for their insolence, the Empress and the Enshrined Elders hadn’t just sought blood; they had used the conflict as a massive, live-action training ground for their younger generation.

This brutal methodology had allowed Ning Xueli to shatter her previous innocence, which made her dao heart firmer, allowing her to break through to the fourth stage of the Golden Core Realm in record time.

She had hunted, she had bled, and she had killed a bloody path to reach where she is now.

This was all to prove to Chu Xueyu, that even without the Supreme’s Inheritance, she can still become an unparalleled genius.

”Very good. Now, you actually look like a Cultivator,” Chu Xueyu said, a rare, thin smile touching her lips.

She observed the girl’s posture—ruthless, ambitious, and prideful. Compared to the innocent girl Haoran had brought home, Ning Xueli was now starting to resemble Chu Xueyu herself when she was young.

”The world is not a place for the kind-hearted, Xueli. You have learned that well.”

”I have, aunt,” Xueli replied, her voice steady.

”Hm. By the way, I received some news that Haoran might be returning soon,” Chu Xueyu added casually, though her eyes carefully watched Xueli’s reaction.

”Really?” Ning Xueli’s eyes brightened instantly, the coldness in her gaze melting away to reveal a spark of genuine, girlish joy.

Chu Xueyu nodded, inwardly amused. It seemed that no matter how ruthless Xueli could get on the battlefield, her heart softened at the mere mention of her son’s name.

”Yes. But for now, go and see Feng Yanmei, she was looking forward to seeing you back. She has been pestering the guards for news of your return for three days,” Chu Xueyu waved her hand in dismissal.

Hearing that name, Ning Xueli couldn’t help but smile wryly. Feng Yanmei, the little gremlin, probably wanted to find her so they could experiment with new explosive formations or ”blow up things together” in the name of research.

Shaking her head, Xueli cupped her hands one last time toward Chu Xueyu before walking out of the throne room.

Once outside, the cool, high-altitude air hit her face as she took a deep breath, the spiritual Qi of the Shen Domain filling her lungs.

’Haoran is coming back,’ she thought, a genuine smile spreading across her face. ’It’s been an entire year. He’d surely be surprised by my growth, right?’

*

*

*

Meanwhile, in the Southern Region, countless distance away from the order of the Shen Clan, a very different kind of struggle was taking place.

Huo Yue, Medusa, and Zhu Ziyan stood at the edge of a misty forest that looked like it had been pulled from a fever dream.

The mist was so thick it felt like damp wool against their skin, obscuring everything further than five meters away.

The trees were twisted, their silver bark glowing with a faint, bioluminescent light that pulsed like a slow heartbeat.

”So this is it?” Ziyan asked, her cat-ears twitching as she tried to catch any sound through the muffling fog.

”Yep. The Heartfelt Misty Forest,” Huo Yue replied, her red robes a sharp contrast to the grey surroundings.

”It is said that those who enter this place cannot say a single lie,” Medusa added, her hand resting on her slender and curvaceous hips, her eyes scanning the shadows. ”The spatial laws here are tied to the concept of Truth. To speak a falsehood is to invite the mist to choke your very soul.”

”Really?” Huo Yue tilted her head in genuine interest, a mischievous glint in her eyes. ”Let’s try it out. A little test of the legends.”

She cleared her throat, standing tall and puffing out her chest. ”Ahem. I’m not beau— urgh, I’m not beau— I’m not beau—”

Her face reddened, her throat tightening as if an invisible hand were squeezing her windpipe.

She struggled for a moment, her eyes bulging, before she finally exploded with the words: ”I’m not— I AM INCREDIBLY BEAUTIFUL!”

The pressure vanished instantly.

Huo Yue gasped for air, clutching her chest before she covered her mouth with her hand, acting perfectly surprised.

”Oh my~,” she giggled. ”It seems the legends are true. You really can’t lie in this place. Even the universe itself demands I acknowledge my own radiance.”

Ziyan and Medusa stared at her with identical expressions of pure, unadulterated disdain.

”Narcissistic,” Ziyan muttered, flicking her tail.

”Go die,” Medusa added bluntly.

Huo Yue acted as if she didn’t hear them, her playful demeanor shifting in an instant as her face turned serious.

She closed her eyes, her nostrils flaring slightly. ”All jokes aside... I can feel it. There is a Heavenly Flame nearby. The resonance with my own Qi is undeniable.”

’Master?’ she called through her mental link.

Fairy Liu, hidden within the ancient ring on Huo Yue’s finger, responded with a voice that was both cautious and expectant. ’It should be the Clear Heart Flame, ranked 21st in the Heavenly Flame rankings. It is a flame of purification, Huo Yue. It is said to calm the heart, burn away inner demons, and reveal all falsehood. It is the perfect flame for an alchemist who seeks to create pills of the highest purity.’

”Heavenly Flames?” Ziyan and Medusa’s expressions turned serious as well.

They knew that for an alchemist like Huo Yue, a Heavenly Flame was more than a tool; it was a path to reach the peak.

Huo Yue had even told them repeatedly that even amongst the alchemist, she is incredibly unique, as she needed more Heavenly Flames than the others.

”Let’s go,” Huo Yue said, her eyes flashing with a fiery determination. ”I can feel the heat calling to me from the center of the mist.”

With that, the three of them stepped deeper into the Heartfelt Misty Forest, their figures swallowed by the fog as they sought the flame that could burn away the lies of the world.