The courtyard was a mess. Cracks in the stone floor glowed faintly under the residual aura of Esdeath, smoke curling from broken tiles and shattered pillars. The heirs, including Aria, stayed frozen, some still trembling. Jin’s bloodied eyes, sharp and burning, fixed on the first son, who had finally stepped forward from the shadows.

  “Valentine,” the boy sneered, his silver-white hair glinting in the dim sunlight, “you think you can come here and dominate without anyone knowing your past? Do you remember your mother? Her name was Selara Kael, and your father…” He paused, smirk widening, “…Valen Kael Valentine. Did they raise you to be this… arrogant monster?”

  Something in Jin snapped at those words. The mention of names, of family, of the illusions of a life he once cherished—it pierced deeper than any blade. But before he could respond, a powerful aura descended from above.

  The elder had arrived. Elder Tharos, a master of the Dao Embodiment realm, radiated a pressure that forced even the courtyard air to tremble. His lips curled in a cold smirk as he raised a hand and struck.

  The strike was devastating, far beyond anything Jin had faced in the Forest of Forgetfulness. Esdeath met the blow, but the force threw him backward, his body crashing into the stone wall with the sound of shattering marble. Pain exploded across his chest, ribs fracturing, blood streaking from his mouth.

  And then… something deeper ignited.

  Jin’s hands tightened around Esdeath. The Death Qi surged from the blade, feeding his rage, amplifying it, consuming it. Tears of blood streamed from his eyes, dripping down the hilt, marking the sword with his fury. Every breath he drew was fire. Every heartbeat thundered in his ears.

  The first five techniques of the Heavenly Demon Sword Art awakened in his mind—the art of the first supreme demon itself, refined and deadly, waiting for the one who dared to embrace wrath. Each movement, each strike, flowed like a river of blood and death, lethal and precise.

  Jin rose, unsteady but unbroken, and with a roar that shook the heavens, he lashed out.

  The courtyard became a storm of black light and death. The elder moved, trying to respond, but Jin’s attacks were fluid, instinctive, and powered by raw emotion. Esdeath devoured every ounce of energy from the surrounding air, every strike leaving devastation in its wake.

  Cael Noctis Vael had been quick, yes—but nothing had prepared anyone for this. The first son’s minions, the arrogant followers of the Heavenly Demon Lord, tried to intercept, but each move was cut down before they could even lift a finger. Limbs, weapons, screams—the courtyard was chaos.

  Aria’s eyes widened, but she did not move. She knew better than to interfere. Even the other heirs who had been watching froze in awe and fear. Jin’s aura had become overwhelming—Death Qi, rage, and the power of Esdeath fused into one unstoppable force.

  Elder Tharos moved forward, his hand glowing with Dao energy. He was mid Dao Embodiment realm, stronger than Jin by all measurements. The Peacore Formation realm had no right to even oppose him—yet here Jin stood, unyielding.

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  “I will not hold back,” Jin whispered, voice low, deadly. “I will not kneel to insects, nor to false masters.”

  The elder struck. The force was earth-shaking, but Jin met it with the first of the five Heavenly Demon Sword Arts. The air erupted in black blades of energy, each slash carving through reality itself.

  For every strike the elder threw, Jin countered, pushed back, and pressed the advantage. Rage became strength, despair became focus, pain became fuel. Each time Esdeath met a blow, the blade devoured his opponent’s energy and returned it to him, sharpening his strikes, pushing him further than he ever thought possible.

  The first son tried to flee, tried to rally his remaining followers, but Jin was faster. Esdeath swung in wide, perfect arcs, cutting down all who dared resist. The courtyard became a graveyard of blood and shattered pride.

  Elder Tharos unleashed a devastating counterattack—a concentrated strike meant to end Jin in one blow. The Peam core Formation cultivator would have been crushed, yet Jin felt the rhythm of the world around him, the vibrations of the courtyard, the energy of the blood, the pulse of life and death. He dodged with terrifying precision, parried with Esdeath, and let his rage guide his movements.

  Every strike, every step, every breath was controlled chaos. Jin weaved the five techniques together seamlessly, creating a hybrid style that even the elder could barely track.

  Finally, with one final, terrifying swing, Jin severed the elder’s energy focus, collapsing him to the ground. Bloodied and broken, Elder Tharos fell before him but not dead.

  Jin stood there, chest heaving, Esdeath glowing faintly with the residual Death Qi of the battle. He did not laugh, did not smile—he simply breathed. The courtyard was silent, save for the wind and the faint drip of blood from the hilt of his blade.

  Aria stepped forward cautiously, but Jin did not even glance at her. He looked toward the entrance of the courtyard, where the Heavenly Demon Lord Azrael Noctis Vael and the Ten Heavenly Guards had arrived. The remaining heirs behind him shifted uneasily.

  Azrael’s expression was unreadable, though the aura he projected carried the weight of a god. “Enough,” he said, voice low and resonant. “You have proven your strength… and your wrath.”

  Jin’s eyes narrowed, still pulsing with the energy of Esdeath. “He tried to kill my followers. He tried to kill me. I do not kneel to anyone, Lord Vael. This alone satisfies me. The rest is yours.”

  The Heavenly Demon Lord’s gaze softened slightly, though only just. “Very well, Jin Valentine. If you can defeat the elder in single combat, your position as a successor candidate will be affirmed. You understand the stakes. You will fight without restraint.”

  Jin’s lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile. “I never fight with restraint. Send him in.”

  The elder, weak but conscious, was led forward into the central arena. Jin adjusted Esdeath on his shoulder, feeling the familiar pulse of Death Qi. The air was thick with anticipation, the courtyard’s atmosphere alive with the tension of impending carnage.

  Jin’s mind narrowed, all else fading. Rage, focus, power, Esdeath in his hand, the pulse of the ground beneath his feet, the vibrations of the air around him—it all coalesced into one truth: he would not yield.

  The elder attacked first, a storm of mid-Dao Embodiment power. Jin countered with the five techniques, combining raw speed, death energy, and mastery of the first Heavenly Demon Sword Arts. Each strike tore the air and scorched the courtyard.

  The battle raged, neither side yielding. The Peacore Formation cultivator against a mid-Dao Embodiment elder—it should have been impossible. But rage, Death Qi, and the mastery of Esdeath allowed Jin to not just survive, but dominate.

  Finally, after a devastating clash that split the ground, Jin found his opening. He struck with a calculated precision, Esdeath’s blade slicing through the elder’s chest, sending a black ripple of Death Qi coursing through him. The elder crumpled, unable to resist the absolute force of Jin’s wrath.

  Jin stood over the fallen master, chest heaving, hair drenched in sweat and blood. His body ached, his eyes burned, yet his mind was clear. He raised Esdeath, letting the Death Qi pulse outward, and the courtyard trembled once more.

  “Let this be the truth of power,” Jin said, voice low and full of finality. “I bow to no one. I kneel to no one. And none shall stand in my way.”

  The heirs and disciples stared, the fear palpable. Aria’s gaze was calm but filled with awe. The Heavenly Demon Lord himself nodded slightly, acknowledging Jin’s dominance.

  And in that moment, Jin knew something only Esdeath could feel—a resonance deeper than the world itself, a recognition that he had become more than just a cultivator. He had become a force of wrath, a true Heavenly Demon.

  The stage was set. The War of Heirs would continue, but now, the one they could not ignore stood at the center of it all: Jin Valentine, the heir who would not bow, the demon who wielded Death itself.