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

The imperial prison was very deep.

It was also very quiet.

Unlike the bloody clamor within the palace, the quiet here was steeped in musty smells and despair. Water seeped through the walls, making them perpetually slippery, and touching them left one's hands covered in greasy moss. The air was thick with the mingled stench of rust, aged blood, and excrement, pressing heavily on one's lungs.

Zhou Yang likes it here.

This quiet allowed him to hear his own heartbeat.

He sat on a straw mat, the ground beneath him cold and stone. In his hand he held the black fragment he had taken from Wuchen. It was icy to the touch, like a piece of ice that had never melted. Its texture was neither gold nor stone, its surface smooth yet absorbing light, looking like a small piece of solidified night.

The candlelight in the imperial prison was dim. The tiny flames flickered in the wind, casting his shadow long and thin against the opposite wall, like a silent ghost.

He rubbed the fragments with his fingertips.

A rough texture came from my fingertips, very slight, yet very clear. On the fragments, there were some extremely fine lines. They didn't seem to be carved by hand, but rather grew naturally, twisted and coiled, carrying an indescribable eeriness.

Just now, in the palace, amidst the embers of blood and fire, he sensed it.

This fragment resonated with the dragon spine fragment inside his own body.

It was very faint, like a call from across thousands of miles. But he caught it.

It was a throbbing sensation originating from the depths of one's blood.

Now, in this absolute silence, this feeling was even more pronounced. The dragon spine fragment within him, like a sleeping heart, was emitting an extremely low, deep hum as the fragment in his hand drew near.

Zhou Yang closed his eyes.

He could "see" inside his own body. In his dantian, the fragment of the dragon's spine floated silently, emitting a faint, eerie light. The black fragment in his hand, like a star drawn to the sky, echoed it through his skin and flesh.

Two fragments, which should have been one.

Zhou Yang opened his eyes, his gaze calm.

He knew that this was both an opportunity and a trap.

It's an opportunity, because this fragment must hold more secrets about the Dragon Spine Divine Weapon.

It's a trap, because exploring things at this level comes at a high price. His system is simple and fair. You have to pay the price to gain something. You have to burn your life to know something.

He did not act immediately.

He was just waiting.

He waited for himself to calm down. He waited for his heartbeat to return to normal. Before making any decision, especially one as life-or-death as this, he would first assess the risks and benefits.

What could he exchange ten years of his lifespan for? A top-tier martial arts technique? A desperate counterattack? A powerful enemy?

Now, he wants to use it to exchange for some unknown information.

Is it worth it?

Zhou Yang tapped the edge of the shard lightly with his fingers, producing a soft "tap." The sound was dull, like striking a solid piece of lead.

He thought of Wuchen. That protector of the Heavenly Principle Sect, the madness and obsession in his eyes before his death. For this thing, he was willing to give up his life. The Heavenly Principle Sect, this enormous shadow, was also chasing him like a mad dog.

The value of this thing has gone beyond the scope of a simple "weapon".

It is a key.

A key that can open a Pandora's box.

Zhou Yang's favorite thing to do is pick locks.

He took a deep breath. The stale air in the prison filled his lungs, but instead of making him uncomfortable, it made him even more alert.

"It's decided."

He muttered to himself, as if talking to another version of himself.

"In business, what matters is boldness."

He no longer hesitated.

With a thought, the system interface, dormant deep within my consciousness, surfaced. There were no complex patterns, only the simplest language and the coldest rules.

Please enter your command.

Zhou Yang's consciousness coalesced into a line of text.

"Burning life: ten years. Analyze this item's information."

[Command confirmed. Cost: 10 years of lifespan. Execute?]

"Yes."

[In progress...]

The moment the words fell.

Zhou Yang shuddered violently.

An indescribable chill exploded from his heart, instantly engulfing his entire body. It wasn't the cold felt on his skin, but a freezing sensation originating from his very bones and the depths of his soul.

He felt his blood slow down and thicken instantly, like asphalt about to solidify. The capillaries under his skin contracted one by one, bringing a slight stinging pain. A few strands of his black hair at his temples turned gray at a visible speed.

Vitality is being drained away.

It wasn't a metaphor, but a literal detachment. He could clearly "see" an invisible current of energy, representing the time of his existence, being pulled out of his body and poured into the black fragment in his hand.

ten years.

A full ten years of lifespan.

For a young man in his twenties, this is almost a third of his future. He could have spent these ten years enjoying power, tasting fine wine, and touching more warm skin.

But now, everything has changed.

It was replaced by a cold, overwhelming flood of information.

"boom--!"

Zhou Yang's mind felt as if a sea of ​​stars had been forcibly stuffed into it.

Countless images, sounds, smells, and emotions mingled together, transforming into a storm that raged within his confined space of consciousness. He saw a colossal sword beyond description. The sword was so large that it spanned galaxies, its blade a winding dragon's skeleton, its edge shimmering with starlight.

He saw the giant sword fall from the sky, piercing the burning celestial palace. The magnificent palaces and pavilions were reduced to dust beneath its blade, and countless "gods" clad in splendid robes and adorned with radiant wings turned to ashes amidst their wails. A war swept across the entire celestial realm, its blood staining every nebula crimson.

He heard the dragon's roar.

That was the roar at the beginning of creation, filled with anger and sorrow that tore through time and space.

Then, there is the breaking.

The greatsword shattered in a cataclysmic collision. The dragon's spine crumbled, turning into countless fragments that rained down like a meteor shower into the endless abyss of darkness.

The image flashed by rapidly before finally freezing.

A star chart.

An incredibly ancient and vast star map. On the star map, the paths of countless stars are marked, interwoven into a complex web. And in the center of this web, beside an inconspicuous, dark star, a faint point of light flickers.

Beside the spot of light, three ancient characters appeared.

Stargazing Pavilion.

[Information analysis complete.]

The system's cold voice rang out, as if it were reading a report that had nothing to do with him.

Zhou Yang suddenly opened his eyes, his body went limp, and he fell backward, his back hitting the cold wall with a thud.

"puff--"

He spat out a mouthful of turbid blood, which splattered onto the stone slab in front of him. The blood was dark red and contained some black fragments.

He was breathing heavily, his chest like a broken bellows, each breath accompanied by excruciating pain. Cold sweat had already soaked through his inner shirt, sticking stickily to his body, making him extremely uncomfortable.

He felt completely drained.

It wasn't fatigue, but a kind of emptiness. A weakness at a certain level of life. It was as if he was no longer in his twenties, but an old man on his deathbed, struggling even to lift a finger.

He leaned against the wall and it took him a while to recover.

He raised his slightly trembling hand and touched his temple.

The hair there was completely white, like frost and snow in winter, glaringly bright.

"ten years……"

Zhou Yang chuckled softly, his laughter hoarse and tinged with self-mockery.

"That's a really good price."

He had no regrets. In trading, you have to be prepared to accept losses. Besides, he won this round.

He got the answer.

The Dragon Spine Fragment is more than just a weapon. It is a divine artifact, a relic of a great war between gods and immortals. And repairing it is not simply about obtaining a weapon; it's more like... restarting something ancient.

Stargazing Pavilion.

Zhou Yang chewed on the name in his mouth.

An ancient force independent of the imperial court and the martial world, dedicated to observing celestial phenomena and guarding secrets. He knew little about this organization, only that it had existed for a very long time, so long that even many historical records failed to mention it. Like a ghost, it floated at the highest point in the world, coldly observing the rise and fall of dynasties and the martial world.

The next fragment is right there.

This is a bigger problem than the Heavenly Principle Sect.

Zhou Yang leaned against the wall and slowly stood up. His legs were still a little weak, but the light in his eyes was ten times, no, a hundred times brighter than before.

It's the excitement of discovering new prey.

He looked down at the black fragment in his hand. At this moment, the fragment had lost its cold, light-absorbing quality and become ordinary, just like a common black stone.

He has already "bought" the information it contains.

Zhou Yang carefully tucked it into his bosom and placed it close to his body.

Then, he walked to the iron gate of the imperial prison, reached out, and patted it heavily.

"Clang—"

The heavy iron gate was opened from the outside.

A captain of the Imperial Guard stood at the door. Seeing Zhou Yang's pale face and graying temples, he paused for a moment, then bowed and said, "Lord Zhou, do you have any orders?"

Zhou Yang didn't say anything, he just walked past him.

Every step felt like walking on cotton, unsteady and powerless. But he walked steadily, his back ramrod straight.

He walked through the dark and damp passageway and emerged from the imperial prison.

It was night outside.

The stars in the sky were very bright, like a handful of broken diamonds scattered on black velvet.

Zhou Yang stopped and looked up at the sky.

His gaze seemed to pierce through the endless void, reaching that point of light on the ancient star map.

Stargazing Pavilion.

A slow, slanted smile curved his lips. But there was no joy in that smile, only cold calculation.

"The new ledger is about to be opened," he said softly.

A breeze blew in from a corner of the palace wall, carrying a chill. Zhou Yang pulled his collar tighter, trying to dispel the bone-chilling cold.

He turned and walked towards his residence.

The moonlight stretched his silhouette long, lonely, yet like a sword about to be drawn, its sharpness fully revealed.