Chapter 343: Persona [2]

Nearly Half a Year Ago...Martial Heaven Peak, Sword Peak.

A lone figure traversed the many peaks of Martial Heaven Peak.

Though his cultivation sat only at the early Tier Three, no one dared underestimate him.

Within the Arena, the battlefield of cultivators this figure held a terrifying record.

Undefeated.

Even against challengers from Tier Four.

Whispers followed him wherever he went.

"I heard that mysterious figure is heading toward Sword Peak."

"A bamboo hat... long hair, white streaked with black. That’s him."

"Isn’t that the one who masters every weapon he touches?"

"They say he copies every technique his opponent uses."

"That’s nonsense. Only a handful of heaven-defying monsters could do something like that."

"...But you did see him fight, didn’t you?"

"I heard he’s developing his own supreme technique. He came out of seclusion just to complete it."

"Hah. Even so, he can’t compare to the rising rookie of our Sword Peak."

"Right. Junior Sword is at the same cultivation realm. This time, that mysterious man will finally lose."

None of them realized.

They were unknowingly speaking about the same person, who was still hidden beneath the surface of fate.

Elsewhere — Chaos Heaven Peak.

Deep within a cavern scorched by battle, a lone young man sat amidst a mountain of beast corpses.

Blood soaked the stone floor.

The man’s long black hair fell loosely down his back. His eyes glowed a deep, eerie red, and his skin was pale, unnaturally so.

He tore into the flesh of the beasts he had slaughtered, devouring them without restraint.

Evil Qi leaked from his body in suffocating waves.

If a demonic cultivator had witnessed this scene, they would have knelt in worship, mistaking him for a newborn god of slaughter.

Yet.

Not far away, within the same peak...

Heaven’s Great Library

Rows upon rows of ancient books stretched endlessly.

Alchemy.

Formations.

Military treatises.

Historical folklore.

Assassination manuals.

Forbidden techniques sealed away from ordinary disciples.

At the center of it all stood a man wearing a mask.

He moved calmly from shelf to shelf, absorbing knowledge at a terrifying pace.

The strangest part?

Behind the mask.

There were no eyes.

And yet, knowledge continued to pour into him as though the world itself was feeding him answers.

Page after page.

Secret after secret.

As if the some Supreme Being itself had decided that this man was worthy of knowing too much.

***

Life and Death Main Peak.

Arena.

Another opponent collapsed.

The crowd fell into uneasy silence as the victor stood unmoving at the part of the arena.

He was known by many names.

But the one that spread fastest among the disciples was.

Little Death Personification.

Death Qi wrapped around his body like a second skin, thick and oppressive, seeping from every pore.

It clung to him from head to toe, refusing to disperse no matter how intense the surrounding spiritual winds became.

Those who challenged him rarely died outright.

Instead, they hovered on the edge.

Between breath and stillness.

Between existence and oblivion.

Every match ended the same way.

A fallen cultivator, trembling, eyes hollow, soul shaken.

And when asked afterward what it felt like to fight him, they all said the same thing.

"That thing... is not alive."

Yet within the same Life and Death Peak, an entirely different legend was being born.

A man known simply as.

The Divine Doctor.

Those healed by him spoke of miracles.

Fatigue vanished like mist under sunlight.

Cultivation bottlenecks loosened without effort.

Emotional scars – resentment, despair, madness quietly dissolved.

Even ailments that had no visible symptoms, injuries hidden deep within the soul, were treated with frightening precision.

It was said that this doctor did not merely heal bodies.

He healed existence itself.

***

Heavenly Beast Peak

Deep within a colossal cave, a being sat cross legged in silence.

His upper body was bare, muscles carved like ancient stone.

Upon his back were two dragon sigils, etched as if painted by the Immortals.

One dragon was pitch black.

The other, pristine white.

They chased one another endlessly, circling in perfect balance, yin and yang locked in eternal pursuit.

But it was not Yin Yang, they were Creation and Destruction.

From time to time, the markings seemed to move.

As if alive.

Atop the being’s head rose two spiraling horns, black and white interwoven, twisting upward in mirrored symmetry.

When he finally opened his eyes.

Twin slit pupils gleamed within them.

Eyes that did not belong to a human.

Eyes that carried the ferocity of beasts and the calm wisdom of ancients.

***

Azure Sky Peak

At first glance, Azure Sky Peak appeared... ordinary.

Too ordinary.

Gentle slopes, restrained spiritual pressure, neither extreme cold nor blazing heat. No thunderous phenomena.

No ominous beasts roaring in the distance. No ancient ruins screaming of forgotten glory.

And yet.

How could anything within the Heaven Immortal Sect truly be ordinary?

Legends whispered that this peak was personally established by the Sect Leader himself.

Not for monsters.

Not for chosen prodigies.

Not for heaven-defying geniuses.

But for those who lacked dazzling talent, and yet refused to kneel before fate.

Azure Sky Peak was meant for cultivators who climbed step by step, who were surpassed again and again by so-called geniuses, only to one day stand higher than those once called monsters.

It was a peak of perseverance.

Of patience.

Of people who won not by brilliance but by endurance.

At this very moment, within Azure Sky Peak.

A great scam was unfolding.

Refined. Elegant. Shameless.

And the mastermind behind it was none other than the newly infamous.

Heart-Bewitching Scholar.

A man whose reputation had spread like wildfire through whole Azure Sky Peak.

Not because of overwhelming cultivation.

Not because of terrifying techniques.

But because.

He could ruin people with words alone.

They said his verses cut deeper than swords.

That his metaphors shattered Dao hearts.

That a single conversation with him had driven proud cultivators into closed-door recovery.

Some claimed he was a poet.

Others swore he was a devil in scholar’s robes.

And now.

Under the clear skies of Azure Sky Peak, amid earnest cultivators chasing slow, honest progress.

The Heart-Bewitching Scholar smiled gently.