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

His lifespan of thirty years was burned to ashes.

Zhou Yang's vision suddenly went black. He staggered, using the rusty knife to steady himself. The feeling was awful. It was as if someone had removed his bones, leaving only a pile of rotten flesh. His throat went dry, and he coughed violently, bringing with it a metallic taste of blood.

But it's worth it.

Every swing and block from the four stone generals, their footwork, their coordination—every detail had been rehearsed countless times in his mind. What had once been an impenetrable encirclement now appeared riddled with flaws.

That's not a flaw in actual combat.

That was a flaw in the formation.

They were like four chess pieces, connected by an invisible thread. As long as the thread remained unbroken, the pieces wouldn't fall apart. Zhou Yang had seen through the movement of this thread.

He straightened up, blood rushing to his throat, but he forced it back down. He looked at the one-armed, broadsword-wielding stone general. The opponent was trying to adjust its position and rejoin the formation.

"There's no chance anymore," Zhou Yang whispered.

His fingers tapped lightly on the rusty blade, producing a crisp sound.

That's not enough. Simply spotting the flaws isn't enough; he can't afford to waste time on them. Time is running out. His lifespan is even shorter. He needs a way to deliver a fatal blow.

What will you exchange it for?

Zhou Yang's answer was simple.

Longer lifespan.

He closed his eyes. Five years of life were rekindled.

A sharper, more intense pain pierced his mind than before. He felt as if his soul had been pierced by a red-hot iron rod. Countless fragments of information exploded in his consciousness, then rapidly reassembled into a clear image.

It's not Shi Jiang.

At the heart of the picture is not any enemy.

Everything was drawn in and flowed to the area directly beneath the altar. There, a black stone, like a heart, beat rhythmically. It was drawing energy from the earth's veins and then transferring it to the four stone generals.

The core of the formation.

Zhou Yang suddenly opened his eyes, the image still lingering deep within his pupils. He remembered the ancient stele he had seen before, inscribed with four characters: "Tianxuan Node".

It turned out to be the case.

He grinned. There was a hint of madness in his smile.

"I've found you."

His gaze passed over the stone general and locked onto the inconspicuous stone altar in the distance.

The way to break through the formation is not to kill all the enemies.

It means cutting off their roots.

Zhou Yang moved. Without the slightest hesitation, he shot forward like an arrow released from a bow, his target aimed directly at the broadsword stone's intact left arm.

He wants to kill this cripple.

This action was highly deceptive. In the "judgment" of the other three stone generals, this human should indeed do it. Killing and wounding the enemy was a perfectly natural tactic.

The Broadsword Stone General let out a deep roar, its massive body shifting sideways, using its remaining left arm to protect its chest joint. Its two companions—the Spear General and the Chainhammer General—immediately attacked from both sides. They were determined to kill this daredevil who dared to disrupt the formation.

Everything was going exactly as Zhou Yang had predicted.

He had been waiting for this moment.

Just before the spear was about to pass him, Zhou Yang's toes suddenly tapped the ground. His originally straight forward trajectory instantly turned into an unbelievable zigzag.

He slid out almost touching the ground.

The spearman's spearhead missed its mark. The chain mace's meteor hammer whistled past his head. Both weapons generated fierce winds, yet neither even touched the hem of his clothes.

This was something he gained by sacrificing his lifespan—a perfect prediction of their attack trajectories!

Broadsword and his companions were all stunned for a moment. A brief pause could be fatal to a formation.

Zhou Yang has broken through the encirclement!

Behind him, the three stone generals roared in shock and anger. Zhou Yang ignored them completely. His eyes were fixed only on the altar.

Ten zhang (approximately 33 meters).

Five zhang (approximately 10 meters).

Three zhang!

The stone generals reacted with lightning speed. They immediately understood Zhou Yang's intention. Their roars grew even more ferocious. All four stone generals, including the one-armed broadsword general, abandoned their pursuit and turned back to defend!

They used their enormous bodies to block the path between Zhou Yang and the altar.

too late.

Zhou Yang had pushed his speed to its limit. The rusty knife in his hand flew out, transforming into a streak of black light, and precisely nailed to the foot of the chain hammer general. The stone general stepped on the blade, his foot slipped, and his massive body instantly lost its balance.

It was just a minor obstacle.

However, this bought Zhou Yang a precious moment.

It's now!

He rushed onto the altar. The altar was cold and covered in runes. He could feel a massive flow of energy beneath his feet, continuously surging into the earth.

That dragon-suppressing stone.

Zhou Yang had no weapon. Without hesitation, he raised his right hand. The thick black mist swirling around his body, like venomous snakes responding to a command, instantly converged.

The black mist did not condense into a knife, nor into a sword.

It transformed into a ferocious claw, covering Zhou Yang's right hand. The claw was thicker than his arm, with swirling black mist, as if it had crushed an abyss.

Behind him, the broadsword general's greatsword whistled as it came crashing down. The weight of the sword caused the altar's stone slabs to crack.

Without turning his head, Zhou Yang used all his strength to slam the black mist claw into the ground in the very center of the altar.

"Get in!"

He growled.

boom!

The black mist claws ignored the hard stone slab and pierced straight into it, as if the stone were tofu.

The next moment, the claws grabbed something from the ground.

It is gentle and profound, yet full of boundless energy.

Dragon-Suppressing Stone!

Zhou Yang's expression was contorted with pain. The stone, which had been gathering energy, was now retaliating fiercely. Countless streams of earth energy surged through his arms and into his body. His meridians felt like balloons being stretched open, ready to burst at any moment.

"Smash it!"

His eyes turned bloodshot. He covered his right hand, which was stuck in the ground, with his other hand. The muscles in his arms were bulging, and the veins were standing out.

He started stirring with all his might!

It's like stirring a pot of hot porridge with your hands.

From the depths of the earth came a suppressed wail, like a sleeping behemoth whose heart had been pierced by a red-hot iron rod.

Click!

A clear crack spread from Zhou Yang's hand, quickly covering the entire altar.

The broadsword behind Zhou Yang unleashed its unstoppable strike at that moment.

However, it only completed half of its action.

The light within it, and its eyes burning with flames, suddenly dimmed.

The halfway point of the chop froze.

Clang.

The greatsword slipped from its powerless hand, smashed against the stone slab, and broke in two.

It's not just that.

The four stone generals—the spear general, the chain hammer general, and the archer general—all froze at the same time. The flames representing life and power on their bodies dissipated rapidly, like punctured balloons.

The formation has been destroyed.

Their energy source was destroyed by Zhou Yang himself.

Zhou Yang continued stirring. He could feel the Dragon-Suppressing Stone crumbling inch by inch under the erosion of his black mist. The massive energy that had gone berserk was forcibly absorbed by him, with a portion flowing back into his body to replenish what he had just consumed.

This deal is a win-win situation no matter how you look at it.

Another crisp sound.

The Dragon-Suppressing Stone shattered completely.

The cracks on the four stone figures instantly spread like a spider web.

Immediately afterward, under Zhou Yang's watchful gaze, the broadsword's massive body collapsed with a crash, starting from the gap left by the sword's cut.

It shattered into a pile of lifeless stones.

Subsequently, the spearmen, the chain hammermen, and the archers collapsed one after another, turning into piles of ruins.

The stone chamber was completely silent.

Zhou Yang released his grip and slowly straightened up. His heavy breathing echoed in the empty space. His right arm, which was stuck in the ground, was still twitching. As the black mist dissipated, it revealed a charred section of his arm, with what looked like magma flowing beneath the skin.

The cost is high.

But he won.

He looked at the rubble scattered on the ground, then down at the cracked altar at his feet, and a weary smile appeared on his lips.

Interest received.

The cracks in the Dragon-Suppressing Stone split open, and the red light vanished abruptly. The eyes of the four stone generals lost their blood color, and their stone bodies instantly lost their luster, resembling gray bricks washed by rain.

With a muffled thud, the stone statue collapsed, sending dust billowing up. The rubble crashed to the ground with a piercing cracking sound.

Zhou Yang didn't stop walking; he looked down at the center of the altar. The dragon scale fragment lay quietly on the blood-stained stone slab, as if it were breathing.

He reached out, his fingertips lightly touching the cold scales. The chill spread rapidly from his fingertips, through his veins, and straight to his heart.

In an instant, a surge of heat rushed into his chest. The blood congealed at the wound, and his skin glowed a dark red as if it had been scorched by flames.

The half-corpse's body contracted in the light, the ruptured blood vessels reconnected, and the previously rotten muscles became firm.

Zhou Yang closed his eyes, feeling the power coursing through his body. Each breath felt like inhaling a mouthful of fresh blood.

He clenched the dragon scales, feeling his fist tremble slightly. Faint scale patterns appeared on the surface of the scales, like the breathing of a living dragon skin.

The black jade ring vibrated silently in his left hand. A faint purple light emanated from the ring's surface, followed by the clear outline of a complete dragon's spine.

Zhou Yang opened his eyes, his gaze lingering on the illusory image. It was an ancient dragon spine, inlaid within the divine weapon.

"If you put them together, they could probably be a world-shaking weapon," he muttered to himself, a hint of mockery in his voice.

At that moment, a cold laugh came from the stone gate of the palace, the sound seeming to rise from the abyss.

A dark shadow streaked across the sky like an ink line, instantly bursting into the dimly lit entrance.

It had a slender body, was draped in a black robe, and its face was covered by a veil, revealing only two cold, gleaming eyes.

His eyes were fixed on Zhou Yang, who held the dragon scale in his hand, his gaze devoid of emotion, filled only with calculation.

"Zhou Yang, do you think you can rest easy now that you've taken the dragon scales?" The shadowy voice was deep, yet it echoed in the silence.

Zhou Yang did not answer immediately; his fingers remained tightly gripping the scales, the ring's light seemingly dancing on his chest.

"I just seized the opportunity," he said, his voice calm but with an undeniable determination.

The dark figure chuckled softly, approaching with unhurried steps. Each step left a faint black mark on the ground, like an undercurrent spreading.

Zhou Yang's gaze swept over the murals in the palace, where ancient dragons meandered, their scales scattered among them.

He already had a plan in mind. If he could piece together all the fragments, he would surely be able to forge a divine weapon capable of tearing the heavens and earth apart.

However, the appearance of the shadowy figure indicates that he is not the only one who covets the complete dragon spine.

"Is this all you want? This piece of mine?" the shadowy figure asked in a low voice, a hint of mockery in his tone.

Zhou Yang didn't look away and replied calmly, "There are still a few pieces missing. No one can underestimate something that's not yet finished."

The shadowy figure's veil trembled slightly, as if a smile was about to appear.

"Then let's go rob it together," it said. "Once we've collected all the fragments, your so-called 'divine weapon' won't even deserve a tombstone."

Zhou Yang smiled, but he didn't show it.

He gently placed the dragon scale back on the stone slab, then pushed the ring to his chest. The ring's glow merged with the dragon scale, forming a miniature halo.

The halo spun in his palm, emitting a deep hum.

"Okay," Zhou Yang replied softly, "I will let them burn out in my hands."

The shadowy figure nodded, its silhouette elongated in the lamplight. It turned and left, leaving a lingering shadow that vanished at the doorway.

The altar lights came on again, illuminating the newly healed wound. The bloodstains appeared exceptionally bright red in the light, yet they no longer bled.

Zhou Yang looked down at the dragon scale in his hand, silently counting in his mind: how many more are left, how much lifespan will be burned up, and what the price will be.

He looked up, his gaze passing through the high windows of the palace. The distant mountains were shrouded in a thin mist, like a huge barrier.

A soft click came from the corner of the wall—the sound of the stone door closing again.

He turned and walked deeper into the path. His footsteps echoed in the stone path, like the light tapping of chess pieces moving on a chessboard.

Every step is treading on the edge of equivalence.

No one knows when or where the next trade will take place.