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

The time has come.

A hoarse voice pierced the night sky.

"The festival begins."

The Imperial Advisor stood on the high platform; his voice, though not loud, pierced everyone's ears like a needle. The square was packed with people. Their eyes were vacant. Their faces were covered in dust. Some had cracked lips, from which blood seeped. They were driven and pushed, finally converging in the center of the square where the bronze cauldron stood. Like a flock of sheep awaiting slaughter.

Zhou Yang hid in the shadows. His flying fish robe was wet and cold. Sweat soaked through his inner garment. He touched the wrinkles on his face; this disguise made him feel suffocated. There was a strange smell in the air. It was dust, blood, and the burnt smell of incense and candles.

The Imperial Advisor stretched out his hands. His wide sleeves slipped down, revealing withered arms. Runes were drawn on his arms. The runes seemed alive, slowly moving. He muttered incantations. The words were indistinct. The voice didn't sound human; it sounded more like the howls of countless dead souls.

As he chanted, a sudden change occurred.

Suddenly, wisps of red aura rose from the bodies of the masses in the center of the square. It was the aura of blood. It was forcibly extracted from each person's seven orifices and pores. Their bodies trembled violently, yet they could not utter a sound. Their faces withered, and they decayed at a visible speed.

Countless streaks of blood rose into the air, converging into a red river. They swirled and intertwined, ultimately pouring into the massive bronze cauldron.

The black smoke and purple mist inside the cauldron immediately surged and churned, making a bubbling sound, like a pot of boiling poison.

Zhou Yang's heart clenched. This was a sacrifice. Using the lives of tens of thousands of living people to exchange for that elusive power. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.

He glanced to the other side. The saintess still stood there. Her white skirt fluttered in the night breeze. She was like an untouched statue, her face etched with compassion. But Zhou Yang noticed that her fingers, hidden in her sleeves, were slightly flexing. It wasn't nervousness; it was excitement. Like a wild beast about to pounce.

The sky began to change.

The crescent moon changed. First, its edges were stained crimson. The red spread rapidly, like blood dripping into clear water. The entire moon turned red, a dark, sinister red. The blood-red light spilled down, carpeting the entire square with an eerie crimson.

Everyone was enveloped in this red light, except for the Imperial Preceptor and the Holy Maiden on the high platform.

Zhou Yang felt a sudden heaviness wash over him. The air thickened, as if filled with mercury. Each breath was incredibly difficult. It was a oppressive force emanating from the blood moon overhead. Only by activating his "Shattering Star" cultivation technique on its own could he barely counteract the pressure.

One year and three months. Not enough time to watch this grand spectacle.

Zhou Yang thought to himself with a self-deprecating smile.

The blood moon's light grew ever brighter. Space began to distort. High in the sky, a crack appeared out of nowhere. It was very thin, like a black scar. Then, the crack began to widen. A teeth-grinding creaking sound emanated from within, as if something was tearing the sky apart.

An even more terrifying aura seeped out from behind the crack.

That wasn't just a simple killing intent or malevolent aura. It was a far more ancient, more desperate scent. It was decay, it was the end. It was as if the end of the world had arrived. Some of the weaker-willed Imperial Guards in the square had already collapsed to their knees, their legs giving way. Their spirits were being crushed by that aura.

The Imperial Advisor burst into laughter. His laughter was hoarse and maniacal.

"Come! Descend! Great being!"

He floated up, hovering directly above the bronze cauldron. His hands formed a strange hand seal. Black smoke and purple mist from the cauldron shot into the sky, forming a massive vortex that led directly to the crack in the heavens. He was guiding. He was welcoming.

The saintess's movements changed. She slowly raised her hand. A seven-inch-long dagger had appeared in her hand, its surface crystalline, as if carved from ice. Her gaze was fixed intently on the Grand Preceptor's back.

It's now!

Zhou Yang's eyes were sharp as knives. There was only one chance. The moment the Grand Preceptor fully guided the descent, and the Holy Maiden launched her sneak attack, would be the weakest point in their defenses.

He focused his mind on the system. He didn't burn his lifespan. That would be too drastic. He wanted to catch them off guard.

"Heavenly soldiers and puppets, heed my command!"

At a command.

In the distance, a glint of light flashed in the eyes of a stone statue. It was a celestial soldier puppet he had long ago placed. Now, it seemed to come alive. Its heavy body made not a sound. Its stone muscles began to bulge, and terrifying power gathered within.

Zhou Yang moved as well. He held the Dragon Spine Short Sword horizontally in front of his chest. This divine weapon, which had taken much of his lifespan to repair, was now trembling slightly. The dragon scale patterns on the hilt were so hot they made his palms numb. It too could sense the aura emanating from the other side of the crack. It was a pressure belonging to a higher level.

A blood moon hangs in the sky.

The spatial rifts were menacing.

The Imperial Advisor is about to succeed.

The saintess had already raised her dagger.

Zhou Yang and the Heavenly Soldier Puppet were poised to strike.

The entire square resembled a giant stage. Everyone became both an audience member and a sacrifice in this bizarre ritual. A deadly scheme that would determine the lives of countless people was about to erupt under the blood-red moonlight.

The Grand Preceptor was completely enveloped by the beam of light emanating from the cauldron. He seemed to have established a connection with the being behind the crack. His power was surging wildly, far surpassing any enemy Zhou Yang had ever encountered before.

Can't wait any longer.

Zhou Yang's pupils contracted to slits. He prepared to strike. Whether the target was the Imperial Preceptor or the Holy Maiden, he had to seize the greatest benefit from this chaos.

Just then, the Imperial Advisor suddenly stopped laughing.

He slowly turned his head, his gaze piercing through the blood-red smoke, landing precisely on the direction where Zhou Yang was hiding. Those eyes had turned pure black. There were no eyeballs within, only two bottomless vortexes.

"The rats should come out now," the Grand Preceptor said, his voice no longer hoarse, but a superhuman, overlapping tone. It was as if tens of thousands of people were speaking at the same time.

Zhou Yang felt a chill run down his spine.

He was discovered?

How could that be! How could he possibly have the energy to perceive himself when he was fully focused on guiding the descent?

The saintess was equally stunned. Her raised dagger froze in mid-air. She hadn't expected such a turn of events. Her ambush plan had been disrupted.

The Imperial Advisor's lips curled into an exaggerated smile. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the moment. He stretched out a hand and pointed it at Zhou Yang.

"die."

A single word was uttered.

The ground beneath Zhou Yang's feet instantly softened, turning into a swamp. Countless pale arms reached out from the swamp, grabbing at his ankles.