Dual Cultivation System: The Villainous Servant’s Rise

“Demons of the Heavenly Void Sect! Your ancestors have arrived! Roll out and accept your deaths!”

The roar thundered across the valley, laced with spiritual energy and raw arrogance.

Inside the command center, Deacon He Tao shot to his feet. His face, already pale from stress, hardened with killing intent. “Again! It’s the Myriad Sword Pavilion.”

He didn’t need to see them. He had traded blows with these specific enemies nearly a hundred times over the last few months. He knew their stink.

“Myriad Sword Pavilion?” Han Lie remained seated, his expression bored. “Deacon He, since the guests have arrived, you should go welcome them.”

He glanced at the girl beside him. “Fairy Qingge, you go assist the Deacon. Consider every head you take a bonus to your commission. How much you earn depends on your blade.”

“Okay~!” Xiao Qingge chirped, her eyes curving into crescents. “Little sister listens to whatever Big Brother says.”

He Tao hesitated, looking between the relaxed Han Lie and the door. “You aren’t coming, Han Lie? With your strength, we could crush them in moments.”

“If I step out now, the real rats won’t show their faces,” Han Lie said, leaning back and propping his boots on the strategy table. “You and Qingge are both late-stage Golden Core cultivators. Dealing with the Pavilion’s vanguard is child’s play for you. I’m waiting for the main course.”

He Tao paused, the logic sinking in. Han Lie’s reputation was a heavy thing. In the Heavenly Void Sect, news traveled slowly, but in the Sun Moon Sect? The name of the man who broke their Holy Son, Zhao Batian, was likely whispered in terror.

If Han Lie stood on the wall, the Sun Moon Sect wouldn’t dare approach.

“Brother Han makes sense,” He Tao conceded. “Watch the rear. Fairy Qingge, let’s go slaughter these bastards!”

The two departed, spiritual energy surging. Outside, the clash of steel and the boom of spellfire erupted almost immediately.

Han Lie closed his eyes, his fingers drumming a silent rhythm on the armrest. He waited.

Hundreds of miles away, in a damp limestone cave.

“Senior Sister Zhao! They’ve engaged!” A scout rushed in, bowing low. “The Heavenly Void Sect and the Pavilion are locked in combat. It’s chaos.”

Perched on a massive boulder, a woman with average features but a dangerously seductive aura opened her eyes. This was Zhao Mei, a direct disciple of the Sun Moon Sect and the architect of the mine’s torment.

“Finally,” she purred, a cruel smile stretching her painted lips. “The Heavenly Void Sect is already bled dry. With the Pavilion keeping them busy, today is the day we wipe them out.”

She stood, her robes fluttering. “Everyone, listen! We strike now. Leave no one alive. Not even the dogs!”

“Kill! Kill! Kill!”

Over a hundred disciples roared in unison, their bloodlust spiking.

They moved like a dark tide, sweeping toward Soul Rest Town. When they arrived at the perimeter of Mine #1, the scene was exactly as promised. He Tao and Xiao Qingge were deep in the fray, surrounded by flashing swords and screaming metal. The base itself was left with only a skeleton crew of terrified lookouts.

“Hahahaha!” Zhao Mei laughed, the sound sharp and piercing. “Look at them! Wide open! Junior brothers, go! Every spirit stone you dig from their corpses is yours to keep!”

Greed lit up the eyes of the disciples.

“Die!”

The vanguard launched a volley of spells. colorful beams of destruction slammed into the administration building, blowing out the windows and sending debris raining down.

Inside, Han Lie opened his eyes. “Right on time.”

He Tao, fighting on the front lines, felt the tremor of the explosion behind him. His heart seized. The base! He turned to rush back, but then he remembered the monster sitting in that room. He stopped, a grim smile touching his lips.

From the smoke and ruin of the administration building, a figure emerged.

He didn’t run. He didn’t shout. Han Lie simply floated upward, stepping on the empty air until he hovered above the chaos. He crossed his arms, looking down at the hundred invading disciples with the detached curiosity of a man watching ants swarm a crumb.

“You certainly kept this old man waiting,” Han Lie said. His voice wasn’t loud, yet it cut through the din of battle, silencing the wind itself. “Sun Moon Sect trash.”

The invading disciples froze. The description of the man—the indifferent posture, the cynical gaze, the terrifying pressure—clicked into place.

“You… you are…” One disciple stumbled back, his face draining of color.

“Han Lie?!”

“It’s him! The old monster who defeated the Holy Son!”

Panic is contagious. Like a plague, it swept through the ranks of the Sun Moon Sect. They knew the story. Their Holy Son, Zhao Batian—a genius at the peak of the Golden Core realm—had been crushed by this man. If the Holy Son couldn’t stand against him, what hope did they have?

They were not warriors to him. They were food.

“Senior Sister Zhao! What do we do?” The disciples looked to their leader, trembling.

Zhao Mei stared up at the figure in the sky, her eyes narrowing. Mid-stage Golden Core? That was what her senses told her. But the reports… the reports spoke of a demon in human skin.

Why didn’t the scout say he was here?

Fear, cold and sharp, pierced her gut. If she had known Han Lie was guarding the mine, she wouldn’t have come within a hundred miles of this place.

“My name seems to carry some weight in your sect,” Han Lie said, his lips curling into a wolfish grin. “I am honored.”

The grin sent a jolt of primal terror down Zhao Mei’s spine. It was the smile of a predator who had already closed the trap.

“Retreat!” she shrieked, her voice cracking. “Everyone run!”

“Run?” Han Lie chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. “I didn’t say you could leave.”

He raised his right hand. A flash of crimson light erupted, coalescing into the heavy, ornate form of the blade, Crimson Oath.

“Since you’ve come all this way, allow me to make my name ring even louder in your halls.”

Han Lie stepped higher, ascending thousands of feet in a single breath. He held the blade downward, pointing it at the scattering ants below.

His spiritual energy surged, thick and scorching. The air around him twisted, shimmering with heat haze. The sky above Soul Rest Town began to darken, dyed a violent, bloody red by the sheer density of his Pure Yang power.

“Soul Severing.”

Hum.

The world went silent for a heartbeat. Then, the sky fell.

A blade of pure fire, thousands of feet long and blindingly bright, detached from Crimson Oath. It didn’t just cut; it incinerated. It was a judgment from the heavens, a colossal guillotine of flame crashing down upon the earth.

Below, Zhao Mei looked up. The reflection of the apocalypse filled her eyes. There was no room to dodge. No time to beg.

Despair washed over the Sun Moon Sect disciples. They didn’t scream. There wasn’t time.

BOOM!

The earth groaned as the strike connected. A shockwave of fire and dust obliterated the landscape, swallowing the screams, the bodies, and the ambition of the invaders in a single, terrifying instant.