A Cunning Pervert in the Cultivation World

In a remote farming village near the western frontier, a young boy stood barefoot in the dirt path, staring up at the strange red sky.

The dome stretched endlessly above them, dyeing the clouds in a deep, unnatural crimson.

”...Mother,” he said softly, tugging at the woman’s sleeve beside him, ”...why is the sky bleeding?”

The woman opened her mouth to answer...

Then soft crimson flames suddenly rose from her shoulders.

The boy’s eyes widened.

He turned around, only to see the same silent fire blooming across every person in the village.

The elders sitting under the old tree, the farmers returning from the fields, the children who had been playing just moments ago... each of them ignited without struggle, their bodies turning into quiet pillars of flame that slowly drifted upward toward the distant sky.

The boy stood frozen in place, small hands trembling, as the familiar faces of his entire world burned in silence.

And soon... he followed them as well.

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In a fortified city farther to the east, the City Lord stood inside the main hall, issuing rapid evacuation orders.

A deep unease had been gnawing at his heart ever since the red barrier appeared, and every instinct told him that something catastrophic was approaching.

”Move everyone toward the southern gate!” he barked. ”Leave the grain if you must... just get the people out!”

Then he suddenly froze.

A strange sensation brushed against his senses.

Frowning, he strode out onto the high balcony overlooking the city—

And his blood ran cold.

Across the streets below, thousands of people were already burning.

Guards, merchants, children, officials... silent crimson flames rose from their bodies one after another, turning the entire city into a sea of quiet, rising fire.

There was no panic.

No resistance.

Only the soft glow of countless human lives being drawn upward.

The City Lord’s lips parted in shock.

Then he slowly looked down at his own hand.

”..?”

Confusion filled his face as faint crimson flames began to seep out from his skin, flickering gently across his fingers with the same unnatural calm.

”...What... is this...?”

The fire continued to spread.

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At the border fortress.

General Zhang Kuo stood frozen upon the high walls of the inner city, his weathered face drained of color.

From this elevated position, he could see farther than most.

And what he saw made his blood run cold.

In every direction... north, south, east, and west... columns of silent crimson flame were rising into the sky.

Villages, towns, cities, military outposts... all of them were lighting up one after another beneath the vast red dome.

It no longer looked like scattered disasters.

It looked as if the entire Fen Dynasty itself was burning.

”...This...”

His voice came out hoarse and unsteady.

The earlier fear that had gripped his heart when he first saw the reddish wall now returned a hundredfold, crushing down on him with pure, instinctive dread.

Then his gaze slowly lowered.

Confusion filled his eyes.

Faint crimson flames were beginning to rise from the back of his own hand, flickering gently across his skin without heat or pain.... yet carrying the same quiet, irreversible certainty he had just witnessed consuming the rest of the dynasty.

Within moments the same quiet fire bloomed across the shoulders of every soldier on the walls, every archer in the towers, every cook and servant in the courtyards below.

...Zhang Kuo’s last clear thought was the image of the Fen Dynasty burning in every direction.

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Far beyond the capital, across plains, mountains, rivers, and countless settlements, the same silent catastrophe began to unfold.

The reddish semi-transparent barrier that had risen at the borders now pulsed like a living membrane, and beneath its vast dome, people and all kinds of lifeforms started to burn.

One by one...

...Without warning and without a single scream.

The flames did not linger where they were born.

As soon as the silent crimson fire fully consumed a living being, the resulting strands of burning light detached from the earth and began drifting upward... then inward.

From every corner of the Fen Dynasty, countless rivers of flame rose into the sky and turned toward a single direction.

...The capital.

Across the horizon, the heavens themselves seemed to bleed as endless streams of crimson light converged from all sides, forming vast glowing currents that cut through the clouds and raced toward the ruined heart of the dynasty.

At the center of that devastation, the colossal flame-wreathed beast stood tall amidst the collapsed city.

Its nine sealed tails trembled under the black pillars, yet its massive head was raised high, maw opened wide.

The three crimson orbs on its dark crown flared brilliantly as the first of the countless flame-rivers poured into its mouth.

Then another.

And another.

An unending tide of burning life force flooded into the False Crown, drawn from every corner of the Fen Dynasty like tributaries feeding a single, insatiable abyss.

The colossal beast’s body trembled under the sheer volume of power pouring into it.

Then... a change began.

The crimson flames swirling around its form grew denser and more refined.

From within the raging fire that covered its fur, distinct flame feathers started to emerge one after another.

They were long, sharp, and ethereal, each one formed from pure condensed fire rather than ordinary flame.

It looked almost like... a phoenix feather.

Currently, the feathers floated and circled behind the beast’s neck like a radiant halo.

At the same time, the nine blazing tails behind it expanded further.

The dark crown upon its head began to change as well.

What had once been a relatively contained structure of black bone and fire started to grow longer and sharper.

Twisted antler-like projections extended upward and outward, becoming more intricate and menacing with every pulse of absorbed power.

And its aura...

It continued climbing.

Without pause.

And without limit in sight.

The oppressive presence that had already blanketed the capital surged higher and higher, breaking through one invisible threshold after another.

The air distorted and the ground trembled continuously.

Even the vast reddish barrier surrounding the Fen Dynasty shuddered under the rising pressure.

Before long, the False Crown’s aura had completely surpassed the Peak of the Nascent Soul realm.

And it was still climbing... into the realm beyond.

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[Here an Illustration of the False Crown new form:]