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

The blades of the flesh-and-blood millstone clanged softly in the shadows. Zhou Yang stood at the end of the narrow corridor, his breath almost inaudible due to the noise. Seventy-seven swirling points of light were reflected in his eyes, the only pause.

"Only a breath's breadth," he muttered to himself, the veins in his palms bulging like thin ropes, taut and trembling.

My mind has calculated every possible path, yet I'm still held back by the limits of my physical body. Calmness is the only way.

He looked up, staring at the system's halo. The system's voice, like an ice scalpel slicing past his ear, said: "Command received."

Zhou Yang did not hesitate. The command was already in his mind: "Burn ten years of lifespan to deduce the optimal route." His tone was calm, but it carried a hint of barely perceptible desire.

The halo flashed red instantly, as if his blood had been ignited. Cold light gathered on his chest, then sliced ​​through his veins like a sharp blade. Pain surged like a tidal wave, as if a thousand knives had pierced his chest.

He felt his lifeline receding. Ten years of life turned to ashes in an instant, exhaled with each breath.

In the pain, his consciousness was slicing through by the intense light. The darkness before him was filled with countless red lines, stretching out like blood vessels and intersecting into a giant net. Each line marked a point in time, and the flickering lights were like beating hearts.

The system's voice sounded again: "Deduction complete."

Zhou Yang's vision cleared instantly. One of the red lines was particularly thick, with an unusually steep angle, passing the point where the blades met, but without touching any of the sharp edges. It was a trajectory that rose diagonally upwards, as if tearing the sky directly from the ground.

He dared not hesitate for a moment. Leaning slightly forward, he lightly touched the paving stones, leaving a trail of tiny footprints. Each step landed precisely on a node of the red line, as if dancing with the beam of light.

The tip of the blade was aimed directly at the narrow passage in front of him. The blade's rotation stopped at that exact moment, and the air was filled with the chill of metal.

Zhou Yang closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The pain in his chest was diluted by the boiling blood. Then, his figure, like a leaf pushed aside by the wind, instantly turned into a faint afterimage.

The afterimage swept across the gap in the blade, and time seemed to stretch out in that instant. The metallic gleam of the blade trembled slightly as the afterimage passed by, then returned to its original position.

The light returned to normal, and the blade began to spin again. But Zhou Yang was no longer in the same spot.

He ran to the stone door at the end of the corridor, behind which was a dimly lit stone chamber. There was only an ancient lamp in the chamber, its light flickering on the mottled patterns on the walls.

Under the lamplight, an ancient bronze tube rested quietly on a stone platform, emanating a faint chill. The lid of the tube was slightly ajar, and tiny specks of light seemed to be rotating inside.

Zhou Yang strolled to the ancient tube and gently touched it. It felt cool to the touch, yet carried a faint pulse. That pulse spread across his fingertips, like ripples of some kind of information.

The system's voice whispered in my ear: "Ten years of lifespan have been consumed. The 'optimal route' has been obtained."

He suddenly realized that his life was being counted by the system. Although the pain in his chest had subsided, the residual heat was still burning in his veins.

He looked up at the walls of the stone chamber. Ancient runes were carved into the walls, with tiny cracks in the spaces between them. These cracks corresponded precisely to the starting point of the red line he had just seen.

Zhou Yang chuckled softly, his voice low but carrying a strange lightness: "Now, we have the real key in our hands."

He gently placed the ancient cylinder back on the platform, then turned and walked towards the stone door. The flesh-and-blood millstone outside the door had stopped turning; only the sound of the wind could be heard in the distance.

As he stepped out of the stone chamber, the corridor lights were turned back on. The red trail behind him slowly faded, leaving only a faint afterglow.

He glanced back at the stone chamber door, where a faint light shone through the crack. That light seemed like a harbinger of another journey.

Zhou Yang lifted his foot, his steps steady. Each step was on a rhythm he had calculated in his mind, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

Behind him, the system's halo flashed again, as if silently recording the price he had paid this time.

"No amount of lifespan can bring back lost time," he muttered to himself, without any hesitation.

The path ahead remains hidden, but he already possesses the key to unlock it.

He quickened his pace and ran towards the other side of the stone chamber, silently memorizing the coordinates of his next target.

The lights in the stone chamber gradually went out behind them, and darkness enveloped them once again.

Zhou Yang's silhouette stretched long in the lamplight, like a silent blade slashing into the unknown abyss.

The oil lamp in the stone chamber dripped, casting a flickering shadow on the stone walls in its dim light.

On the central stone platform, the skeletons lay silently.

The skeleton was dressed in a silk robe similar in shape to the old man, with tattered gold thread still remaining on the cuffs.

Zhou Yang's gaze lingered on the bones, his fingers gently tracing the rotting skin, feeling a chill.

He reached his hand toward the stone wall beside him and found that a dented stone brick had been deliberately cut away, revealing dark red bloodstains.

Above the bloodstain, there was a line of tiny characters, seemingly eroded by time, yet still legible.

**My disciple Han Yong, I have been deceived. This tomb is a "Furnace of Longevity," those who enter become fuel to nourish my wicked disciple!**

Zhou Yang frowned, a long-forgotten name flashing through his mind.

Han Yong—Fang Tian's disciple, who once fought alongside him at the Snow Mountain Temple.

That time, Han Yong fell before the blood-stained altar, leaving behind only a black ring.

At that time, Zhou Yang only remembered that he had burned ten years of his lifespan in exchange for a fatal breakthrough.

Now, seeing this text, he understands that not all of those ten years flowed into his body.

The core of the furnace is located in the "Tianxuan" position; destroying it will break the mechanism itself, allowing you to seize its power.

The two characters "Tianxuan" are like a secret code engraved in my heart.

Zhou Yang turned to look at the other end of the stone chamber, where there was a huge stone door with dim star patterns inlaid on the door frame.

At the center of the star pattern is a recessed gemstone, with dim light flowing between the stone walls.

He reached out and gently touched the gemstone, feeling a faint pulse, like the heartbeat of some kind of power.

The old man's words flashed through my mind: "As long as we find Tianxuan, we can control life and death."

Only then did Zhou Yang realize that the old man who called himself his master was not actually his mentor.

The true master was Han Yong, who had already turned into bones.

The old man appeared because he wanted to take the core of the furnace left by Han Yong and use his lifespan to create the illusion of immortality.

He used Han Yong as a stepping stone, and even allowed Zhou Yang to unknowingly ignite the flames for him.

A cold smile curled at the corner of Zhou Yang's mouth.

"Han Yong, whom I killed, was actually a pitiful guy."

He remembered that day, Han Yong stood in front of the altar with tears in his eyes, but still insisted on stopping the old man from continuing the ceremony.

The old man stabbed Han Yong with a hidden weapon, and blood splattered on the stone wall, which was the source of that drop of blood.

A strange sense of pity rose in Zhou Yang's heart.

However, the blood and flesh have already been sacrificed, and the portion of ten years of lifespan absorbed by the ring may have already entered the old man's body.

He gently tossed the ring onto the stone platform; the ring traced an arc in the air before embedding itself in the skeleton's chest.

Bloodstains spread instantly, and a low hum emanated from the skeleton's chest cavity.

The characters on the stone wall trembled, as if torn apart by some force.

Zhou Yang clenched his fists, his heartbeat echoing in the silence.

He knew that to destroy the furnace, he had to smash the gem in the Tianxuan position.

But the moment it shatters, the entire mausoleum's mechanisms will self-destruct, and all the life force will dissipate.

This is the final warning left by Han Yong: the only revenge is to make the greedy master lose his foundation.

Zhou Yang took a deep breath, feeling a heaviness in his chest.

He turned to the stone wall and whispered, "Master, your plan ends here."

The sound echoed in the stone chamber, as if it had pierced through a thousand years of dust.

Then, he suddenly raised the iron hammer in his hand and smashed it hard against the gemstone.

The gem was shattered, fragments scattered, and the star pattern instantly lost its luster.

After a piercing metallic cracking sound, a deafening roar came from behind the stone door.

The entire structure of the mausoleum began to shake, and dust fell from the ceiling.

Zhou Yang nimbly rolled away, dodging several falling rocks.

He stood up and looked at the stone gate that was about to collapse.

Behind the door was a deep, dark passageway, with a faint blue light flickering in the darkness.

He understood that the end of the passage might be what was known as "destiny".

However, the entrance to the passage was blocked by huge stones, and it could only be entered after the tomb completely collapsed.

Zhou Yang pulled the ring from the skeleton's chest and held it in his palm.

The ring's surface was stained with blood, and a dark red light flickered faintly.

This ring was once Han Yong's keepsake, and it may also be the old man's lifeline.

He stuffed the ring into his pocket, deciding to preserve his lifespan before seeking a real breakthrough.

The walls of the stone chamber finally cracked, and huge boulders poured down from the sky.

Zhou Yang rushed out of the stone chamber and headed towards the valley outside.

The sound of the wind in the valley swept past my ears, carrying away the smell of blood and dust.

He looked back and saw that the collapsed stone chamber had turned into a pile of ruins, and the ashes were scattered by the wind.

There was no resentment in my heart, only a faint sense of satisfaction.

"You guys are just unlucky," he muttered to himself, his footsteps echoing on the damp dirt road.

The road ahead remains winding, and the treacherous world of martial arts continues to beckon.

But Zhou Yang has already grasped a new key—Tianxuan's method to break the deadlock, and the old man's true face.

He quickened his pace and ran towards the ancient well deep in the valley.

Beside the ancient well, there was a withered vine, on which hung a jade pendant that gleamed with a cold light.

Zhou Yang reached out and took off the jade pendant, which was engraved with the words "Reversal".

He looked up at the sky, the gray clouds gradually dissipated, and the moonlight shone on the mountain road, illuminating his silhouette.

This time, he was no longer just a pawn.

He wants all those who exploit him to pay the same price.

He chuckled, the sound echoing through the silent valley.