Amidst the clouds, the cultivators stood up straight. Master Yuanyuan opened his eyes, studying General Lu, who stood proudly atop the mountain peak.

General Lu stood with his saber clasped, trembling as if frozen. His eyes were tightly shut, and evident agony marred his usually stern and unyielding face.

"The Heart Demon has possessed him; now, no one can help him..."

Master Yuanyuan lowered his head with a sigh, a shadow of gloom crossing his brow.

"It is up to his own destiny."

His voice was cold as a blade. The few figures around him grew solemn, gripping their respective magical artifacts and weapons tightly.

The formless Heavenly Demon had entered the body; what followed was an invisible war of spirit and will.

Feng Zikang could feel that besides himself, several companions were surging within this body, scrambling everywhere, attempting to manipulate the host’s fundamental emotions and desires, in order to devour his spirit and achieve rebirth through possession.

Feng Zikang, however, lacked experience and didn't know where to begin. He rushed and blundered through General Lu’s body, only feeling himself transform into a surge of resentment—feeble and weak. He suffered no counterattack from General Lu's spirit.

"Aoo..."

From within the body, the demonic screams of destruction could be clearly heard. This was a Heart Demon rooted in greed, and General Lu, upright and incorruptible, was the first to drive it away.

Amidst the continuous cries of agony, Feng Zikang felt a chill in his heart. His remaining companions were being eradicated one by one; he didn't know when his turn would come.

He did not wish to die, but he didn't know how to truly begin the process of possession. He could only rush about blindly, his heart growing increasingly panicked and resentful.

He resented how he had ended up in this situation.

He resented that someone hadn't saved him when he was near death back then.

He resented the death of Xiao Die!

He resented the enmity for his nation and family!

Wait—Feng Zikang suddenly awoke. What death of Xiao Die? What enmity for his nation? This wasn't his hatred... this was General Lu’s hatred!

His own flicker of resentment had resonated with the host's!

"That means..."

"Hahahaha!"

General Lu's laughter gained an extra layer of chilling coldness. He suddenly snapped his eyes open, his pupils now entirely blood-red!

"I hate!"

"No good, quickly move the disciples down the mountain!"

Master Yuanyuan roared a warning, but he saw General Lu raise his massive Blood-Red Great Saber high, pouring all his strength into a downward slash! He bellowed, his voice filled with savage ferocity.

"Gongzi Yiwu, die for me!"

"Boom!"

A towering mountain opposite was actually cleaved in two by General Lu’s strike!

Stones shot out, shaking heaven and earth!

"Martial Uncle!"

"Dodge!"

"Ouch!"

The disciples on the martial path below descended into chaos. Although General Lu’s strike wasn't directly aimed at them, the residual blade energy struck down even the lower-cultivation disciples, causing injuries; the falling boulders only compounded their misfortune.

"Hahahaha, hahahaha!"

After that strike, General Lu let his arms hang, head bowed and motionless. After a long moment, he let out a sound of relief and laughter.

Feng Zikang!

Feng Zikang had succeeded in seizing rebirth, grasping one in a billion chance!

It could only be called heavenly fortune. Feng Zikang’s faint resentment had evoked the hatred that General Lu had harbored, suppressed, and left unspoken for many years. It was like a single spark igniting a prairie fire; once started, the blaze was uncontrollable.

General Lu expelled the strike with all his life force, splitting the heavens and earth. His spirit and soul, already severely depleted, were consequently burned away, leaving this body—cultivated for hundreds of years—to Feng Zikang in vain.

The peril of the Formless Heavenly Demon Tribulation lay in this: a moment's carelessness could lead to eternal damnation!

"Hahahahahahaha!"

Feng Zikang’s laughter did not cease; how could he not be joyful? Although this body was aged, it was still that of a cultivator, whose cultivation had reached the Tribulation Crossing realm. Living another few centuries would certainly not be an issue.

If he were lucky, and he were to re-cultivate the Great Dao of the Formless Heavenly Demon, he could even ascend to the Upper Realms, transcending the mortal world and sharing longevity with heaven and earth.

Even if he didn't wish to ascend, having such immense power meant he could simply live out his days leisurely. The frustrations and suffering of his past life could finally be repaid in this one. With the stature of General Lu, a powerful cultivator, who would he fear?

Fine wine, beautiful women, ultimate pleasure—he would taste them all!

Feng Zikang couldn't help but laugh heartily.

"Demon! Give up your life!"

Alas, the happiest moments are often the prelude to misfortune; simply put, this is called extreme joy giving way to sorrow.

Feng Zikang had just finished laughing when he felt something pierce the front of his chest, puncturing the protective armor and gleaming blood-red under the setting sun, intensely alluring.

It was the shaft of a sharp flying sword.

"Ah!"

Feng Zikang cried out in rage, feeling an intense pain in his chest.

He forced back the injury and looked around. A group of figures radiating brilliant light descended majestically from the clouds. Leading them was a handsome young monk, while the one who had inserted the flying sword into his back was a gaunt, elderly Daoist with a sorrowful expression.

"Who... who are you people... why... are you trying to kill me?"

"Heretical demons! Everyone has the right to slay you!"

A woman of half-age, brimming with heroic spirit, stepped forward and scornfully rebuked him.

"Brother Lu, you yourself said that if you could not survive the Formless Heavenly Demon Tribulation, you would lend me your Yaoguang Sword for self-destruction. Now, this old Daoist shall fulfill your wish!"

The Daoist seemed to have some acquaintance with General Lu, his eyes showing reluctance, his face etched with sorrow.

"Venerable Qanyang, this is no longer General Lu. It is the Formless Heavenly Demon from beyond the Thirty-Three Heavens. Quickly destroy both its form and spirit! Namo Amitabha!"

The leading monk recited a Buddhist name, his face full of compassion, yet he pronounced Feng Zikang’s death sentence.

"Why... why... I just want to live, why do you all..."

Venerable Qanyang closed his eyes, the look of pain deepening on his face. He brought his two fingers together, forming a sword seal. The flying sword inserted into Feng Zikang’s chest gave a violent twist, causing Feng Zikang’s entire body to convulse, and his physical form instantly disintegrated into dust!

"You want to live, but all sentient beings under heaven will suffer. Brother Lu, I regret this!"

"Why... why won't you let me live!"

Feng Zikang felt his vision darken. The body he had just acquired vanished, and he plunged back into that endless darkness and cold.

"Why?!"

"I only wanted to live freely; I am not a demon! Why kill me without discerning right from wrong?"

"What kind of 'Righteous Path' people are you? I haven't done anything, and you want to kill me? What nonsense is this 'Righteous Path'?"

"I hate so much!"

"I want revenge! I want revenge!"

Feng Zikang, having reverted to the Formless Heavenly Demon, felt his hatred intensify, but in this lower realm, he sensed no increase in power; instead, he was continuously weakening.

Other than beyond the Thirty-Three Heavens, nowhere was suitable for a Formless Heavenly Demon to exist. The vital energy of the local environment would naturally erode the demon's consciousness until it returned to dust.

"I don't want to die! I want to live!"

Feng Zikang was unwilling. He darted about like a headless fly, hoping to find a warm body. Only through another possession could he survive, only then could he seek revenge!

He had to survive, no matter what!

Perhaps today was his lucky day; after one in a billion chances, he found another body suitable for possession.

As a Formless Heavenly Demon, Feng Zikang was now extremely weak. Even if the target were an ordinary person, the slightest resistance from their consciousness would cause him to perish, never to be reborn.

But he had no other choice.

He rushed into that person's body.

"Silly child, you're awake?"

When Feng Zikang awoke, he found himself in a bamboo hut filled with the thick scent of medicinal herbs. A middle-aged man in white robes sat by the medicine furnace, lightly fanning the flames while holding a book.

The book's title was clearly visible: Liu Hou's Commentary on Grand Duke Taigong's Art of War. Feng Zikang couldn't recognize its value, but this book was the orthodox lineage of the Military School, annotated by Liu Hou Zhang Liang on the great Dao of military strategy pioneered by Jiang Ziya.

Outside the window, the moonlight was bright, casting mottled shadows through the paper screens. In the dim light, the room’s furnishings were distinct: merely a bed, a table, a cabinet, and a bookshelf—extremely simple, yet spacious and entirely devoid of worldly clutter.

Feng Zikang lay on the kang, and with the slightest movement, he felt agonizing pain radiating through his limbs, causing him to groan softly.

"Don't move! You were injured below the Qibao Pagoda Mountain. Your master just treated you; you need time to recuperate!"

Although the man’s voice affected a detached tone, it could not conceal a current of concern. His medicine furnace was set up crookedly, and there were smudges of soot on his face; he seemed to lack the proper tools for fanning the fire, suggesting he was entirely unaccustomed to such chores. Yet, for his disciple's recovery, he didn't mind playing the role of an apothecary's assistant.

"Don't fear the pain; just endure it, and it will pass. Drink this medicine after it boils, and I guarantee you’ll be off the bed in three days."

The white-robed man assumed Feng Zikang feared the pain, unaware that his heart was currently overflowing with joy. Although the widespread pain was hard to bear, it was something only a being with a body could experience.

For Feng Zikang, who had forgotten how long it had been since losing a physical form, this sensation was nothing less than enjoyment.

He savored the sour numbness and pain in his limbs, like drinking fine aged wine, boundless delight filling his heart.

Having learned his lesson once, Feng Zikang dared not speak rashly this time, fearing the white-robed man might again discern his true identity. If he were tricked a second time, given his current weakened state, the Formless Heavenly Demon would certainly be utterly annihilated.

He stared at the back of the white-robed man, calmly assessing the situation.

"Silly child, why are you enduring the pain so well today? You’re listening to me without crying out? Usually, you'd be shouting and squealing by now!"

The white-robed man continued to tease his disciple while fanning the flames.

"Master..."

Feng Zikang didn't know what to say, so he merely called out softly, "Master."

The white-robed man suddenly jumped up as if stung, his eyes wide with astonishment, nearly kicking over the medicine furnace.

"You... what did you just call me?"

Feng Zikang was startled, sensing something was amiss. He bit his lip and remained silent.

"Did you just call me Master?"

The white-robed man walked over to Feng Zikang, touched his forehead, and then touched his own.

"Am I completely worn out? Did I mishear?"

He muttered to himself for a moment before staring intently at Feng Zikang for a long time.

"Call me again."

Feng Zikang felt there must be a reason, fearing he had made a mistake, but he dared not disobey and softly called out, "Master."

To his surprise, the white-robed man was overjoyed. Ignoring the injuries, he swept Feng Zikang up into his arms.

"Ancestors bless us, my silly child! You can finally call me Master!"

After this inexpensive master’s ceaseless explanations and delighted self-talk, Feng Zikang finally understood the situation regarding the youth whose body he had possessed.

It turned out this white-robed man was a successor of the Military School from Dragon and Tiger Mountain—General Lu’s junior martial brother—named Ye Tiansheng. He had cultivated in the small bamboo forest of Dragon and Tiger Mountain for many years. However, his gentle temperament clashed with the Military School's path of killing and conflict, causing his cultivation to advance slowly. He often retreated into seclusion to contemplate and seek progress on the Great Dao.

Thus, Ye Tiansheng did not take many disciples. During the sect selection six years prior, he casually chose a seven-year-old disciple simply to pass on his legacy.

Since Ye Tiansheng had no interest in teaching, after bringing the child back to the bamboo forest, he hurried into seclusion without even asking for the boy's background or name. This long seclusion was disastrous; a seven-year-old child could not care for himself. Soon after, the boy developed a high fever. When Ye Tiansheng emerged from his retreat, the child had already been burned into an imbecile.

Ye Tiansheng was not inherently cold-hearted, and this only increased his guilt. He tried every means to heal the child, but medicine proved useless, with little improvement. No one knew the child's name. Other disciples casually called him "Foolish Egg" or "Silly Lad," so Ye Tiansheng called him "Silly Child."

Because of the child's affliction, Ye Tiansheng had to seek doctors everywhere while constantly diverting his attention to care for him. His progress in cultivation had been increasingly delayed these past few years, but due to their constant companionship, his bond with the 'Silly Child' grew stronger and deeper.

When General Lu underwent his Tribulation, Ye Tiansheng brought this disciple, whom he could not bear to leave for a moment, to watch the proceedings. Unexpectedly, when General Lu failed his Tribulation, the 'Silly Child' miraculously gained sentience.

The second possession by a Formless Heavenly Demon was unprecedented; no one had heard of such a thing. Ye Tiansheng certainly didn't consider that possibility, believing instead that the Ancestors had blessed them. Although the 'Silly Child' had been struck by falling stones, resulting in a bloody head injury, it had miraculously made him intelligent.

Understanding the whole story, Feng Zikang couldn't help but marvel at his luck. At the time of the second possession, the Formless Heavenly Demon was utterly exhausted; it couldn't even overcome the consciousness of a simple ordinary person. Yet, this 'Silly Child' lacked a self-awareness, allowing Feng Zikang to usurp his body for nothing. However, since the person had lost his intellect long ago, Feng Zikang felt no moral burden.

"Haha, Silly Child..."

Ye Tiansheng beamed with joy, calling out "Silly Child," then suddenly covered his mouth. "Right, you have been in my sect for years, but Master never knew your name—how shameful of me! Calling you 'Silly Child' all the time isn't right either. Do you remember your name?"

Feng Zikang nodded; of course, he remembered his name.

Since this 'Silly Child' was nameless, unattached, and without any self-awareness, let this Formless Heavenly Demon replace his life.

Feng Zikang also remembered the agony of a blade piercing his body, the conviction of his vowed revenge, and the burning hatred in his heart.

"Master, your disciple's surname is Feng, and my parents named me Zikang."

He respectfully reported to his Master.

"Zikang! A good name! Excellent!"

Ye Tiansheng was simply overjoyed. He would have said any name was good. The recovery of his foolish disciple’s intellect immediately resolved a long-standing knot in his heart. Once he guided him into the initial stages of the Dao, he wouldn't need to stay by his side constantly, allowing Ye Tiansheng to return to closed-door cultivation and catch up on the years he had lost. This was truly cause for great delight.

"For the next few days, rest well and heal your external wounds. After that, Master will begin teaching you the Great Dao of the Military School of Dragon and Tiger Mountain!"

Feng Zikang acknowledged the instruction, a faint smile playing on his lips, his outward demeanor respectful, yet he paid no heed to the supposed Great Dao of the Military School of Dragon and Tiger Mountain. General Lu, with such profound cultivation capable of shaking heaven and earth, was still taken over by him. In the end, his form and spirit were utterly destroyed, unable even to reincarnate!

The Dao of the Formless Heavenly Demon—to manifest ten thousand forms from formlessness, to master the creation of all things in heaven and earth—that was the highest path!