Within the heart of the Lower Realms, the wind had turned cold.
News of the previous major auction still reverberated through the thousand territories. Factions that had dared to challenge the Shadow Auction House found themselves erased overnight, their legacies burned from the soil. And through it all, Li Xuan remained hidden in the deepest layers of obscurity, a monarch without a throne, a god who walked without light.
In the central chamber of the newly built Nine-Realm Obsidian Pavilion, Li Xuan sat cross-legged in absolute stillness. A void cocooned him, and inside that void, the Voidheart Enlightenment Sutra pulsed with a demonic rhythm. His body twisted subtly under the pressure of the cultivation. The forbidden mind technique was unlike anything else in existence. With no levels, no path to follow, it devoured the soul as much as it enlightened it.
Each breath he took felt like razor winds slicing into the marrow of his bones.
Yet his eyes remained open—dark, merciless, calculating.
He had begun to understand something more profound than power: meaningless mercy was a disease.
Karma shimmered like a storm around him. Invisible threads stretched from his core to the thousands of puppet sects now under his indirect control. He had installed loyalists in every corner of the Lower Realms. With seven generals, each overseeing seven territories, and forty-nine elite agents fanned out beneath them, the structure of his empire had taken form.
Still, he trusted no one.
Not even the seven who bowed before him now.
"We have crushed the remnants of the Azure Blood Sect," General Qian reported, bowing. "Their karmic value was high. Shall we auction their remains and bloodline slaves as planned?"
Li Xuan gave no reply for a moment. His gaze burned into the void. Finally, he said, "No. Feed the slaves into the karma furnace. Auction only the sect's treasures."
A pause.
"But, my lord, some of those slaves possess ancient talents—"
"I said no."
His voice echoed with a pressure so severe that even General Qian trembled.
Silence returned.
In truth, Li Xuan had seen the karmic fate of those slaves. Keeping them alive would fracture the delicate karmic web he was weaving. For now, he needed harmony—even if it meant silence through death.
Beyond the Obsidian Pavilion, the realm's people grew restless. A new prophecy had begun circulating—one speaking of an immortal flame rising from shadow, burning all false gods.
They called it: The Flame Without Mercy.
Li Xuan knew it referred to him.
---
Later that night, in a chamber hidden beneath thirty layers of spatial locks, Li Xuan entered the karma pool. The pool was a construct only he could touch—formed from the karmic deaths of hundreds of thousands. It surged like a black ocean, glowing faintly with red and gold veins.
He sank into it.
Agony followed. The Voidheart Enlightenment Sutra screamed in resonance. Faces appeared in the liquid—people he had slain, lives he had bartered through auction, names he never cared to remember.
But within that suffering—
Understanding bloomed.
He saw the cause and effect of a single breath, the karmic ripple of a whispered lie, the full consequence of a broken vow.
He saw how to bend it.
Control it.
Become its king.
---
A week passed.
In the city of Cold Ember, a minor auction took place. Elite agent Hei Yun oversaw it. The prizes were minor—spirit beasts, mystic herbs, technique scrolls. But hidden among them was a seed. It was not announced. Not labeled. It was there for the wise to notice.
Only one man did: a robed wanderer with a third eye etched into his forehead.
He tried to bid.
But the moment his hand lifted, a shadow blade pierced his heart.
No explanation was given.
No protest raised.
Everyone knew now—some items were never meant to be sold.
Li Xuan watched it all through a hidden mirror. The seed was a karmic detonator, meant to find its way into the hands of a certain heretic sect in the Upper Realms. Its purpose? To ignite civil war.
This was how he now operated.
He did not conquer by force.
He auctioned destiny itself.
---
Back in his sanctum, Li Xuan stood before a mirror. But the reflection didn't show him.
It showed an immortal. Shrouded in black flames.
The being raised its head slowly.
And smiled.
Li Xuan did not blink.
"Soon," the reflection whispered.
The mirror cracked.
Li Xuan walked away.
He didn't need prophecy to confirm what he already knew: the immortal realms had noticed him.
And he would make sure they never forgot.