Until the End of Time: The Demon God’s Redemption

Descent into the Monolith

The gates of the Blood Lotus Sect's inner sanctum yawned open like the mouth of an ancient beast. As Lu Xuan and his companions passed beneath the arch, a chill settled into their bones—a deathly stillness, as if the very air knew a battle was coming and dared not move.

The sect's base sprawled deep within the Wailing Hollow, a cursed region once sealed during the great spiritual war. Its proximity to leyline fractures and decayed spiritual veins granted it unnatural potency, perfect for dark cultivation. Shrouded in mist and soaked in blood qi, the sect had flourished undisturbed for decades.

The path led them through a scarlet grove, where lotus trees wept crimson sap. The sky above had darkened unnaturally, smothering the sun's warmth. And from the monolith's shadow, figures began to emerge—cloaked warriors in blood-dyed robes, faces hidden behind bone-white masks.

The Blood Lotus Sect had arrived.

Their leader, a towering cultivator whose cultivation pulsed at Early Core Formation, stepped forward. "The Eclipse nears," he said, voice muffled and echoing. "And your bones shall mark its rise."

Fei Yan, at Mid Foundation Establishment, stepped into a defensive stance. "We knew it was a trap. Let's make it their funeral."

Without warning, the battle erupted.

The Ambush

Yao Lin's eyes flared golden as time bent around her, allowing her to dodge three blades at once. She danced between moments, but each vision cost her a flicker of herself. A deep cut opened across her shoulder, spraying blood that shimmered like gold dust. Her cultivation remained cloaked in ambiguity—likely resting at Late Qi Refinement, yet her time-altering abilities made her an anomaly in battle, as if she operated from a timeline not fully her own.

Fei Yan screamed and surged into the fray, her sabers a blur. She held off two assassins with precision but fell to her knees when a hidden blade pierced her thigh.

Ming Zhao, a Late Foundation Establishment cultivator, activated a spirit barrier, shielding Su Xue and Mei, but it cracked under the pressure of a dark flame cast by a masked elder at Mid Core Formation. "They're targeting the weakest first!" he shouted.

A burst of frost exploded outward—Su Xue, at the Peak of Core Formation, cut down an attacker with a single icy spear. But the truth lay deeper. Though her cultivation was formidable, it was also shackled. Bound by the laws of time, Su Xue had once stepped beyond Nascent Soul, but in this timeline, her power was sealed. Only fragments could be summoned for now, and even those came at a great cost.

Then she saw it—an elder lunging toward Lu Xuan from behind with a cursed halberd.

"Lu Xuan!"

But it was too late.

Death Cannot Claim Him

The halberd struck true.

It passed through Lu Xuan's heart—and stopped.

The elder's smirk faded.

Black veins spiraled outward from the wound, but instead of falling, Lu Xuan turned slowly, the blade still embedded in his chest. "You should've aimed for my soul."

He pulled the weapon free. The wound closed before their eyes. And then he devoured the elder's cultivation in a scream of crimson qi.

His aura surged—breaking past the bottleneck.

Late Foundation Establishment → Peak Foundation Establishment.

The ground cracked beneath his feet. His veins glowed crimson-gold, the mark of the Immortal Demongod Body—a constitution lost since ancient times. Indestructible, insatiable, a vessel for both ruin and renewal.

Silence fell as several Blood Lotus disciples hesitated.

Su Xue watched, horror and awe dancing in her eyes. "He can't die," she whispered.

Yao Lin's voice was faint. "He's lived this moment before. Every version of it."

Mei trembled beside her. "This is the moment it all starts."

The Return of the Sword

As more disciples closed in, Lu Xuan reached behind him. His hand grasped air—and then something ancient responded.

A shimmer.

A flash of starlight.

Then, from nothing, a sword appeared in his grasp. Long, narrow, obsidian with veins of pale light running along its length. A blade lost to memory.

The others felt it—like the world itself bent slightly.

"What is that sword?" Ming Zhao gasped.

"It has no name," Yao Lin whispered. "Because he never gave it one. But that blade… it's from the first time."

With a single slash, Lu Xuan cleaved the battlefield in half. A pulse of devouring qi erupted outward, pulling in the blood mist and rendering half a dozen masked warriors to dust.

He stood still, sword lowered.

The blade hummed—not with energy, but with history.

A Memory Reborn

In the back of his mind, a memory flickered.

A throne of bone.

A sky bleeding stars.

A woman in red kneeling.

And this sword—resting across his lap, soaked in heaven's blood.

He had wielded this blade at the end of all things.

And now, it had returned to him.

But still—he had never named it.

### Retreat and Revelation

The Blood Lotus Sect faltered. With their **Mid Core Formation** elder slain and morale broken, the survivors retreated into the deeper shadows of the monolith.

Fei Yan leaned on her sabers, panting. "We should pursue."

"No," Lu Xuan said. "This was only the beginning. They lured us here to awaken me. Not to win."

Su Xue walked beside him, her gaze lingering on the sword. "Why haven't you named it?"

Lu Xuan looked at her, something ancient flickering in his demon eye.

"Because it's not the sword that defines me."

She frowned. "Then what does?"

His answer was quiet.

"The choice of whether to use it."

### Chapter End