The Man In Black At The Martial Saint Level

The Third Prince drew upon the blood, essence, and very souls of the fallen for his cultivation, while his black-clad demon guards ravenously consumed the flesh of the defeated monks. These guards, twisted by demonic energy, had mouths filled with razor-sharp fangs gleaming with a metallic sheen. Their menacing appearance sent shivers down anyone's spine. Their stomachs seemed to be bottomless pits—no matter how much they devoured, their bodies showed no signs of overconsumption.

In no time, the demon guards had consumed the corpses of over 100,000 fallen warriors. The raw energy contained within their flesh and blood, especially from those who had reached the rank of martial masters, was unimaginable. As the last remains were consumed, the power within the guards surged dramatically. Waves of dark energy distorted the air, and each guard began undergoing further demonic transformation.

Among them, the strongest, a half-saint level guard, stood out. Under the deliberate guidance of the Third Prince, he was tasked with devouring the remains of six Martial Saints. The tremendous energy of these elite warriors coursed through him, transforming his aura into something almost monstrous. Black lightning crackled around his body, hinting at the immense power he now wielded.

Suddenly, a furious roar—deep and primal—shook the heavens. The half-saint's body began to change once more. His size grew exponentially, towering over the battlefield like a mammoth. His muscles bulged like mountainous terrain, and bone spurs jutted from his joints, gleaming dangerously in the dim light. His scales, once black as ink, now shimmered darker, harder, forming an impenetrable armor. His appearance had shifted entirely, from man to beast, a terrifying war machine.

With a bellowing roar that echoed across the land, the half-saint black-clad guard had broken through—he had entered the realm of the Martial Saints. His aura was so imposing that even the Third Prince glanced at him with approval.

"Yes, you've reached the rank of Martial Saint," the Third Prince mused, satisfaction glinting in his eyes. His decision to feed this guard the remains of six Martial Saints had paid off spectacularly.

But the transformation came at a cost. The man in black, now fully demonized, had lost all capacity for speech, replaced only by feral roars of rage. His consciousness had been eroded by demonic energy, leaving behind a violent, uncontrollable monster. Worse, there were signs he was preparing to turn on his fellow guards.

Noticing the shift, the Third Prince acted swiftly. "Calm down!" he barked, before delivering a thunderous punch that sent the newly-transformed Martial Saint crashing into the ground, creating a pit thirty meters deep.

Dust and debris filled the air, but when the storm settled, the Martial Saint climbed out of the pit—completely unharmed. His toughened skin, now as durable as armor, hadn't sustained a scratch.

"Roar!" He bellowed again, but this time, a flicker of recognition returned to his eyes. He knew the Third Prince was his master.

"Good," the Third Prince sneered. "You're the strongest now. From today, you'll be known as Hei Yi, the leader of the black-clad guards. Don't disappoint me."

Hei Yi growled, unable to speak, but the Third Prince's sharp tone left no room for misunderstanding.

"What are you roaring for?" the Third Prince snapped. "Want to roar again?"

Hei Yi hesitated, unsure how to respond. Instinctively, he let out another low growl.

Boom!

The Third Prince, irritated, slammed him back into the pit with another powerful punch. "I told you to stop roaring! Why don't you understand?"

Hei Yi, once again unscathed, climbed out of the pit, a look of confusion and frustration on his monstrous face. Unable to speak, all he could do was growl—but clearly, that wasn't working in his favor. It was a cruel paradox: unable to communicate, yet punished for trying.

Just as the Third Prince was about to berate him further, a token at his side began to glow with a soft, eerie light. He retrieved it, scanning it with interest. A wicked smile spread across his face.

"So, the masters from all the forces are gathering at Yaowang Valley... And Orion dares to show his face there?"

His narrow, triangular eyes gleamed with malice. Though the Third Prince had doubts about his ability to defeat Orion alone, the situation had changed. If he could align himself with the powerful masters gathering at Yaowang Valley, their combined strength might be enough to take Orion down.

"Perfect," he hissed. "This is my chance."

He motioned to his black-clad guards, who had finished devouring the battlefield's remains. Their eyes glowed with dark energy, their power greatly enhanced by their grisly feast.

"Follow me," he commanded, his voice cold and menacing. "Even if I can't defeat Orion today, I'll make sure he suffers. He'll remember the Third Prince."

With a sinister smile on his lips, the Third Prince led his demon army toward Yaowang Valley, his mind already scheming the downfall of his enemy.