If I, a death row inmate, am not to become a demon, am I to become a member of the Imperial Guard?

The night was like a knife, slicing through the desolate northern suburbs. Blood mist churned in the wind, like a sleeping giant serpent.

Zhou Yang stood atop the crevice, his figure like a shadow. The life lamp on his chest trembled slightly, its light flickering in the blood-red air.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the putrid stench of death. The smell carried the scent of rotting wood, mixed with the dampness of the old tomb.

His fingertips trembled slightly, and his blood, as black as ink, rushed through his veins. Twenty years of lifespan transformed into blazing flames in an instant, surging into his entire body.

"Burn out," he murmured to himself, his voice carried away by the wind.

The corpse poison within the body clashed with the ancient cultivation technique, producing a piercing cracking sound.

A cloud of blood mist suddenly appeared in his right palm, condensing into a shape resembling a blood-red bone blade.

The bone blade was not metal, yet it was as hard as black iron. It was woven from blood essence and corpse energy, emitting a faint crimson light.

The blade swayed slightly, like a living animal. Zhou Yang grasped it, feeling a cool touch on his fingertips.

At this moment, the inspector in front had already stood on the other side of the crevice.

He was clad in obsidian armor, his brow furrowed. A flicker of fear crossed his eyes, yet he maintained his stance.

"Sinners, you will all die the same death!" the inspector shouted, his voice echoing through the valley.

He formed a hand seal, and a shield of true energy unfolded before him. The shield was like a thin film, light yet hard, shimmering with a pale blue light.

Zhou Yang did not back down; the blood-red bone blade was already in his hand.

He took a step, his footsteps making a crisp sound as they landed on the gravel.

The blood mist from the bone blade spread out, heading straight for the inspector's chest.

The crimson bone blade hurtled toward the shield, emitting a piercing metallic whoosh.

The shield, which should have been able to withstand everything, trembled like paper in front of the bone blade.

The blood mist pierced through the shield, and the blade tip went straight into the opponent's chest cavity.

The inspector's eyes suddenly went blind, and his chest was slashed open by a blood-red blade.

Blood gushed out instantly, staining his armor crimson.

He only managed to let out a muffled groan before collapsing to the ground, his body trembling violently.

Before his death, the inspector used up all his remaining true energy.

A black talisman in his hand ignited with azure flames, which shot into the sky and pierced the night.

In the firelight, a line of ancient seal script was faintly visible, like some kind of secret summoning code.

The flames vanished instantly, and the talisman turned into tiny stardust, drifting with the wind towards the distant mountains.

This stardust carries a message that may cause even greater turmoil.

Zhou Yang's body trembled violently after the blood-red bone blade successfully pierced through him.

He felt that the light of his life had dimmed after it had burned out.

The blood mist slowly dissipated in his hand, the bone blade turned into bloodstains, and then disappeared.

He looked down at the back of his hand, where the blood was still pulsating slightly.

The blood vessels in his right arm looked as if they had been cut open with a knife, and bright red blood dripped from his fingertips.

Zhou Yang forcefully severed the aftershock of the bone blade, his wrist feeling as if it had been cut by a sharp blade.

His knees trembled uncontrollably, and he finally knelt on the broken rocks.

His face was deathly pale, and his eyes were as cold as frost.

The pain in my chest felt like needle pricks, but it was masked by a strange sense of pleasure.

At that moment, dust billowed up in the distance. Qin Shuang had caught up, and two blood-red warhorses neighed in the dust.

She saw Zhou Yang already kneeling, his brows furrowed, his voice low and deep: "Can you still stand up?"

Zhou Yang looked up, his gaze piercing through the chaotic dust and landing on Qin Shuang's eyes.

"I still can," he replied softly, his voice still warm from the blood.

Before he could stand up, Qin Shuang suddenly grabbed his shoulder.

Her warm palms pressed gently against his back.

Their fingers were intertwined tightly, as if trying to connect their strengths together.

"We still have a long way to go." Qin Shuang's voice was calm, yet it warmed Zhou Yang's heart.

Zhou Yang nodded and leaned on Qin Shuang's shoulder.

Blood dripped onto the ground, congealing into a small patch of dark red starlight.

The starlight swayed in the wind, like faint lamplight, reflecting on the two people's backs.

Their shadows were stretched long by the moonlight, casting long shadows across the northern wilderness.

The night wind howled, carrying away the lingering warmth of the blood mist, but leaving behind the echo of a heartbeat.

Zhou Yang's breathing became steady, and the pain in his chest gradually subsided.

Although his lifespan had been burned off by twenty years, he could still feel his blood flowing through his body.

Qin Shuang said softly, "This is just the beginning; there are even bigger provocations to come."

Zhou Yang gritted his teeth and smiled, a blood-red smile etched onto his cheeks.

"Let them see that the title of Corpse King is not an empty legend," he replied coldly, a resolute glint in his eyes.

The sound of two horses' hooves faded into the distance, and dust rose again.

The bloodstains left thin marks on the ground, as if to suggest that their journey would continue forward.

In the darkness, the twinkling stars symbolize the formation of a new deterrent.

The sound of horses' hooves stopped.

They didn't stop at the same time. Qin Shuang's horse stopped first, and Zhou Yang's horse staggered forward a few steps before finally stopping, swaying its head like a drunkard.

A north wind blew in, carrying the scent of withered grass. The sky was turning a pale, pale gray-white.

Zhou Yang's hands and feet were shaking.

He practically fell off the horse. His legs buckled, and his knees slammed into the ground with a dull thud. He braced himself with his hands, his knuckles turning white from the effort. He tried to stand up, but failed twice.

Qin Shuang tied her horse to a dead tree and walked to his side. She didn't say anything, but simply reached out her hand.

Zhou Yang looked up at her, grabbed her wrist, and used it to stand up.

"Find a place." His voice was hoarse, as if it had been sanded.

Qin Shuang nodded. She supported Zhou Yang, her gaze sweeping around the area. The wilderness consisted only of sparse trees and jagged rocks. Finally, her gaze settled on a small hillside not far away.

There is an abandoned hunter's cabin on the other side of the hill.

The house was small, barely a shell, with most of the walls collapsed, but it still managed to block the wind. Qin Shuang helped Zhou Yang sit down in a corner where it was still usable, while she went to find some dry branches and started a small fire in the center of the house.

Flames quickly rose. The orange-red light shone on Zhou Yang's pale face.

He leaned against the wall and slowly closed his eyes. The system panel automatically appeared in his mind.

[Host: Zhou Yang]

[Cultivation Level: Divine Realm (Great Completion)]

[Cultivation Technique: Nine Revolutions Profound Technique - Heavenly Corpse Scroll (Completed)]

[Remaining lifespan: 110 years]

[This battle will consume 30 years (of the Inspector) + 20 years (of the Corpse Emperor's intimidation) = 50 years]

[Corpse Virus Mutation: No Changes Detected]

He stared silently at the number.

One hundred and ten years.

He once had over two hundred years left to live. A battle took away almost half of that.

Is this deal worthwhile?

He remembered the horrified face of the inspector, and the kneeling figures of the Heavenly Principle Cult members. Whether it was worth it or not was no longer important. The deal was done; he had survived. That was all.

The price is this body that's almost falling apart, and those numbers that keep shrinking.

He opened his eyes; the flickering firelight was somewhat blinding. He unbuttoned his shirt, intending to take off his wet, cold clothes and change.

His movements were slow, and the pain from pulling at his wound caused him to break out in a cold sweat.

Qin Shuang walked over and squatted down.

"Don't move," she said, reaching out to help him.

Her fingers were cold, and Zhou Yang instinctively flinched when they touched his skin.

Qin Shuang didn't stop. She gently lifted his blood-soaked inner shirt, exposing the crisscrossing wounds on his chest to the air. The most conspicuous thing wasn't the wounds, but the bluish-black corpse patterns that spread from his heart like a spiderweb.

These patterns seemed to flow slowly in the firelight.

Qin Shuang's breathing paused for a moment.

She had seen this thing before. She had seen it in the woods outside Anyang County when Zhou Yang first displayed that terrifying power. But this time, she saw it much more clearly. The patterns seemed alive, coiled within his body, like some ancient and evil mark.

Her gaze became somewhat complex. There was scrutiny, inquiry, and a hint of heartache that she herself didn't even realize.

She took out a small cloth bag from her bosom, opened it, and inside were clean wound medicine and strips of cloth.

"It might hurt a little," she warned.

Zhou Yang didn't say anything, he just leaned against the wall and looked at the hole in the ceiling.

Qin Shuang dipped her finger in water and began to clean the wound. She washed it very carefully, her movements so gentle that they didn't seem like those of a Jinyiwei commander. She had treated countless wounds, including her own. But those were all for survival, for fighting; her movements were always swift and decisive, without a single wasted effort.

Now, however, her hands are moving very slowly.

Her fingertips would occasionally brush against the cold, lifeless markings, each touch feeling like an intrusion into some dangerous taboo. Yet she didn't withdraw her hand.

Zhou Yang could feel the warmth of her fingers and her careful movements. His tense nerves inexplicably relaxed at that moment.

"Isn't it ugly?" he suddenly asked, his voice tinged with self-mockery.

Qin Shuang paused in her movements. She looked up and met his gaze.

"Shut up," she said softly, then continued applying the medicine to him.

The powder burned as it was sprinkled on the wound. Zhou Yang gritted his teeth and remained silent. Sweat trickled down his temples and dripped into the dust.

Qin Shuang bandaged his wounds, then took off her tattered coat and dried it by the fire. She handed Zhou Yang a dry cloth.

"Wipe your face."

Zhou Yang took the cloth, wiped his face haphazardly, and cleaned away the blood.

The two sat in silence, the only sound the crackling of the flames.

Its daybreak.

Qin Shuang stood up and walked outside the small house. Not far away, there was a narrow waterway, and a dilapidated fishing boat was moored on the bank. The planks were blackened, and it looked like it had been abandoned for a long time.

Zhou Yang also came out. Although his face was still pale, his steps were much steadyer.

"Burn it," he said.

Qin Shuang glanced at him but didn't ask why. She walked to the riverbank and used a tinderbox to set fire to the tattered fishing net at the bow of the boat. The fire quickly spread, the dry planks crackling and burning, and thick black smoke rose into the sky.

This is the last trace they left behind. Burn it, and everything will be gone.

The two returned to the fire and ate some dry rations.

"We are now... wanted criminals," Qin Shuang said calmly, as if stating a fact.

"We've been that way for a long time," Zhou Yang said. "It's just that this time, the whole world knows."

On the Heavenly Principles Sect's side, he killed the Inspector and even used the Corpse Emperor's methods. This kind of hatred is irreconcilable. On the Embroidered Uniform Guard's side, Commander Chen will not let it go easily. He holds Gao De's secrets, thus cutting off his own escape route.

"Where to next?"

Zhou Yang looked at the distant, continuous mountain range, his gaze stretching far into the distance.

"We're going to the capital."

Qin Shuang was somewhat surprised.

"Go to the capital? That's a den of dragons and tigers. If we go there now, we'll be walking into a trap."

"No." Zhou Yang shook his head. "That's the only place we can hide."

He turned his head and looked at Qin Shuang.

"Do you think running to the ends of the earth will make a difference? The Heavenly Principles Cult is more powerful than you think, and the Imperial Guards can roam the world. No matter where we run, we will be found. Rather than being caught up in the shadows, we might as well jump into the brightest place."

He paused, his voice carrying a cold calmness.

"The most dangerous place is the safest. The capital is a deep pool, crowded with people and a mixed bag. Finding two people there is like finding a needle in a haystack. If we go there, we can blend in."

Qin Shuang fell silent. She understood Zhou Yang's meaning. This was the final step in their escape. It was better to hide under everyone's watchful eyes than to remain hidden.

She looked at the man before her. He always came up with the boldest and most unconventional plans. But these plans often actually worked.

"What are you going to the capital for?" she asked.

Zhou Yang's gaze sharpened.

He stood up, walked to the fire, reached for the half-dried coat, and put it back on.

"Do two things," he said, buttoning his shirt.

"First, find out the truth about that blood sacrifice alchemy. Gao De is just a minor character; the person behind him must be in the capital."

"second……"

He raised his head and looked at Qin Shuang, his eyes filled with an unprecedented solemnity.

"Find the other fragments of the bronze dragon bone."

Qin Shuang's heart skipped a beat. Of course, she knew what the bronze dragon bone was. It was the key to repairing that broken sword. And that broken sword was now in Zhou Yang's hands.

Zhou Yang took out the broken sword tip from his pocket; the cold metal gleamed with a dark light in the morning sun.

"The Heavenly Principle Sect wants it, and the Embroidered Uniform Guard wants it too," he said slowly. "This thing is a source of trouble. But at the same time, it is also our means of survival."

His hand gripped the tip of the sword tightly.

"We can no longer afford to be passively attacked. To become stronger, we need more power. Repairing this sword is the fastest way."

The firelight gradually dimmed. As the smoke dissipated, the hut returned to its cold and quiet state.

Zhou Yang tucked the sword tip back into his robes and then looked at Qin Shuang.

"So, let's go to the capital. Let's get to the bottom of all this."

Qin Shuang looked into his incredibly bright eyes, which showed no sign of wavering or fear.

She suddenly realized that the person in front of her was burning not only with lifespan, but also something far more terrifying.

She nodded.

"it is good."

In short, that's the answer.

The rising sun finally crossed the mountain ridge, and golden rays bathed the wilderness.

The two packed their things without looking back. They walked to where the horses were tied, untied the reins, and mounted their horses.

"We need to hurry," Zhou Yang said. "We need to get to the capital before all the lackeys in the country realize what's happening."

Qin Shuang responded, flicked the reins, and the horse charged off first.

Zhou Yang followed closely behind.

The two riders, one in front and one behind, left long trails of dust on the official road of the capital.

Behind them lies the legend of the Corpse King, the kill orders from two major powers, and the burned past.

Ahead of them lay the unknown capital, a deeper vortex, and their only way to survive.