Chapter Thirty-Three: A Change of Heart

“So cold… am I inside the great cauldron?”
Lin Fan felt his vision blur, and suddenly found himself in a strange space, icy coldness piercing his bones, and beneath him, frigid blood pooled.

“What a vicious old man from the Ghost Domain. No wonder the Heavenly Martial Domain and the Ghost Domain are at odds.”
Cursing, Lin Fan’s murderous intent surged. Human hearts are made of flesh, and being born of humble origins, bullied day after day, he had developed a subconscious urge to punish evil and promote good. Now, Lin Fan wished nothing more than to cut the Ghost Domain elder into a thousand pieces.

“Do you think that old man is cold-blooded?”
At that moment, Prison Sky finally spoke, his tone unusually grave.

“Isn’t he? He’s killed so many for his own selfish gain. Now, with the demons watching hungrily outside, these people from the Ghost Domain not only fail to unite against a common foe, but also slaughter each other. It’s intolerable! And to disappoint you, I will not refine the blood essence here—they were innocent.”
Lin Fan was indignant, his anger at its peak.

“Let me tell you about the battles of ancient times.”
Prison Sky’s voice paused, then resumed, not waiting for Lin Fan to reply.

“‘Corpses littered the fields’ can’t describe the carnage. Countless heroes fell, space and time shattered, innumerable souls perished. The Condensed Vein Realm was nothing; in ancient times, it was less than an ant. Those were truly dark ages, where powerhouses sprang up endlessly, races from all heavens descended, and even the demons were not the main players… But enough, you wouldn’t grasp it if I said more.”
Prison Sky spoke calmly, yet Lin Fan could sense the mountains of corpses and seas of blood behind his words. He knew that had he lived then, he’d have been crushed in an instant.

“What was ancient times really like?”
Lin Fan asked, half to Prison Sky, half to himself, shock and fear in his eyes.

“That was an apocalypse. You’ll understand one day.”
Prison Sky did not elaborate, a hint of dread in his voice.

“But that was in the apocalypse. Now is not ancient times, and this Ghost Domain Condensed Vein cultivator acted purely out of selfishness. There’s no comparison.”
Lin Fan’s conviction did not waver: the Ghost Domain elder deserved death.

“That’s not what I meant. That wretch is guilty beyond measure—in ancient times, too. Slaughtering his own people without cause, devouring their blood and flesh to strengthen himself—how is that different from the demons? What I urge you is: make good use of the blood essence beneath you. This is a rare chance, do not miss it.”
Prison Sky sighed, surprised that after all this, Lin Fan still failed to grasp his point.

“Impossible! I have my own principles. Even when I devoured blood and flesh before, they were always my enemies—the ones I slew were those who deserved it. I will not consume their blood essence.”
Lin Fan refused righteously. A true man lives with a clear conscience; he would not taint his cultivation path with inner demons.

“Stubborn! In ancient times, countless people willingly sacrificed themselves for their tribe. Do you think devouring blood and flesh is base? Back then, people committed suicide by the thousands, unstoppable, all to help those at the top of the pyramid advance further. You are in a similar situation now. While the righteousness can’t be compared, in essence it’s much the same.”
Prison Sky berated him.

“What is right? What is wrong? What are inner demons? You don’t understand, because you are still too weak. Perhaps now you think power is neither good nor evil, but that’s far too narrow. This is the best scenario before you: consume their blood essence, break through to the eighth layer of physical cultivation, and then kill that brat outside. Only then can you avenge those who died unjustly—otherwise, even if you died ten thousand deaths, you could not be absolved. Do you understand?”
Lin Fan paused, the bottom line he’d clung to crumbling, but a new sense of greater righteousness arose in its stead.

“Do you mean…?”
Lin Fan murmured. Prison Sky’s words were like a sudden awakening, opening another door in his heart.

“Good and evil, great or small, it is the ability to choose that makes a true hero. You may not understand now, but you will in the future.”
Prison Sky’s voice had grown low, no longer frenzied.

“So that’s it. I was too narrow-minded. I suppose they would want me to deliver them peace, to avenge them by slaying the Ghost Domain elder. That is the right path.”
Lin Fan’s eyes shone brighter, his mind growing clearer.

Seeing the truth of his heart, severing external evil, Lin Fan’s comprehension of the Dao soared. Before stepping into the Condensed Vein Realm, nothing would hinder him; once the power arrived, his progress would be unstoppable.

“Friends who died unjustly, today I, Lin Fan, am caught in the same predicament as you, but I am different—I still have a chance. If I escape, I swear I will personally kill your enemy.”
Lin Fan shouted, his whole body radiating light, a hint of divinity in his aura—a sign of the Condensed Vein Realm, though he had not yet reached it in cultivation, his mind was already there.

At this moment, he was deeply grateful to Prison Sky, understanding that the latter had deliberately let him be captured by the Ghost Domain elder to instill the concept of greater and lesser righteousness.

“You finally understand. Remember, your path is long and arduous. If the apocalypse comes again, such a gentle nature cannot support the whole tribe.”
Prison Sky’s voice was soft, unfathomable.

“All right, now I will refine this blood essence into pills for you. You have something more important to do. I will teach you a fist technique—once mastered, your strength will double.”
Prison Sky’s voice cut off abruptly, and then a vast power spread through the cauldron space. The immense blood essence, once refined, would rival dozens of cultivators at the tenth layer of physical cultivation; even Prison Sky would need ten days and half a month to refine it.

But Lin Fan was immobilized, a wave of energy rushing directly into his mind.

“This is the Divine Creation Fist?”
Lin Fan murmured, sensing an overwhelming aura approaching—a breath of ancient times, containing terrifying power. Just these four words could suppress all ages, sweep across the heavens.

“So terrifying! Unrivaled for eternity, transcending the ages—what is the origin of this fist technique? Just a glance fills me with indescribable dread; my eyes feel as if they’ll split apart, as if I am profaning some sacred thing. Before this, what Seven Star Fist, what Great Kunpeng Fist—they’re all trash, not worth mentioning!”
Lin Fan was ecstatic, his mind immersed in the fist technique. For a moment, a formidable aura surged from him, dominating all directions. The whole cauldron began to tremble, unable to withstand this power, emitting cracking sounds.