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Within just an hour, the once-feared Dark Heaven Clan—a name that had ruled from the shadows for centuries—was no more.

Ash covered the mountain valley like snow. Spirit formations lay shattered, their core runes dim and bleeding sparks. Cracks split the ancestral halls; spirit totems toppled like broken idols. Not a single elder remained alive. No guards. No servants. No hidden assassins watching from the shadows.

They were all gone.

The final screams had long since faded, drowned out by the thunder of vengeance.

Shadow Reaper Hui stood alone in the middle of the ruined estate, surrounded by silence and smoke. His crimson aura slowly flickered out as his breath steadied. Blood stained his robes, but his eyes were hollow, as if the last of his burdens had finally burned away.

There was no pride on his face. No triumph.

Only the quiet stillness of someone who had done what needed to be done.

He walked to the central archive—deep beneath the main hall—where the hidden scrolls, spirit techniques, forbidden manuals, and clan inheritance records were stored. The elders had always believed this place impenetrable. But they had never considered one of their own might be the one to destroy it.

Hui gathered everything.

Tomes sealed in jade cases. Martial spirit enhancement scrolls. Spirit bone research. Maps, contracts, and blood-stamped records of hidden allies and black-market contacts.

Every secret the Dark Heaven Clan had hoarded over a hundred years—now belonged to him.

Or rather, to his benefactor.

"These belong to Master Dave," Hui muttered, storing each item with precise care. "Not as payment… but as a thank you."

When it was done, he took one last look at the ruined stronghold.

"This place… doesn't deserve to stand."

With a flick of his hand, Hui summoned all remaining energy within his temporary Ultimate Douluo body. A vast crimson flame spiraled into the sky, crackling with spirit energy. It descended like a divine verdict.

The mountain shook.

In one final roar, the heart of the Dark Heaven Clan collapsed in on itself, swallowed by fire and rubble. The echoes of its fall carried across the nearby valleys—warning and legend in one.

Only Hui remained, standing at the edge of the smoldering ruin.

His twenty-four hours of power were almost over.

As the glow around his body faded and his cultivation began to wither, he removed his mask and let it fall into the ashes.

He was no longer a shadow.

He was free.

Days later, far from the shattered battlefield, a small village nestled among peaceful hills welcomed a quiet visitor.

Hui, now dressed in plain clothes, approached a modest cottage near the edge of the village. There, an elderly woman sat outside, her hands weaving straw, her eyes clouded from age.

She looked up slowly—and stopped.

Tears welled in her eyes as her hands fell to her lap.

"…Hui?"

He said nothing.

He just knelt before her, tears of his own tracing down his face.

"I'm sorry it took so long," he whispered. "But I'm home, Mother. And we're free now."

She embraced him, frail arms trembling.

No more assassinations.

No more orders.

No more masks.

Only peace.

The Reaper had returned home.

And the Dark Heaven Clan was no more.

***

Dave looked down at the Storage Soul Guide Bag in his hand. It was the same bag Reaper Hui had left behind, saying "thank you" before vanishing. Dave slowly opened it and found a surprising collection of items—from rare spirit bones to sect treasures, all neatly organized.

"It's everything the clan had," Dave muttered, recognizing the weight of what was inside. With a sigh, he closed the bag and stored it away.

"I think we've had enough chaos for this beach," he said, standing up and brushing the sand from his clothes. "Let's move on to our next destination."

Meilin and Dugu Yan came near him, following his lead. "Hold on—where are we going next?" they asked curiously.

Dave gave a small nod, glancing at each of them.

Signora stood a few steps away, watching them quietly, her gaze unreadable.

Dave picked up a stick from the sand and spun it once in his hand before letting it fall freely. The stick landed pointing due north.

"It's settled then," he said, grinning. "We're heading to the Ice Plains."

Signora's expression shifted slightly—she understood what that meant.

"The Ice Plains? What kind of place is that to vacation in?" she asked with an arched brow.

Dave just shrugged. "Cold. Dangerous. Perfect change of pace."

The group packed up quickly, their relaxed beach energy now shifting into anticipation. The sun still hung high above the ocean, casting golden rays on the waves—but for them, the warmth of the beach was already a memory.

A transport array shimmered in the air as Dave activated a token. Frosty winds howled from the portal before them, biting and sharp. The sky on the other side was dull gray, the ground beneath thick with glittering layers of ice and snow.

They stepped through.

The contrast was immediate. Gone were the crashing waves and warm sands—in their place stood towering glaciers, frozen ravines, and distant howls carried by the wind.

Crystals of ice floated in the air like frozen fireflies. The very air shimmered with spirit energy, thick and heavy, making each breath feel powerful.

The Ice Plains.

A place where the weak could freeze to death in moments… and where ancient spirit beasts older than some sects still slumbered beneath the ice.

"It's so quiet," Meilin whispered, her voice nearly swallowed by the vast emptiness.

Dugu Yan nodded slowly, arms crossed against the cold. "Too quiet."

"Relax," Dave said casually, glancing around. "People still live out here—we've just come too far north. That's all."

He turned to Signora, who walked beside him with a composed look, as though the cold didn't affect her in the slightest. "See that ridge up ahead?" Dave pointed to a shadowy outline of stone walls and tall buildings partially veiled by drifting snow. "We're nearing the outskirts of Tianshui City."

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