Xiao Yunhai's face bore a faint green and red hue, his veins pulsing ominously beneath his skin as though they might burst forth at any moment.
The final remnants of the Withered Rose poison churned violently within him, threatening to spill over. He clenched his jaw, his body trembling as he fought to contain the toxic energy.
But it was no use. A metallic taste flooded his mouth, sharp and acrid, and he gagged involuntarily.
PFFT!
With a forceful heave, he spat out a mouthful of black blood, the dark liquid pouring onto the ground with a sickening splatter.
Almost immediately, his complexion transformed. The sickly pallor faded, replaced by a rosy, radiant glow that made him appear almost otherworldly.
His features, once strained and haggard, now exuded an ethereal beauty. If one were to see him bathed in divine light, suspended effortlessly in midair, they might mistake him for a heavenly god descended to the mortal realm.
Wiping the bloodstain from his lips with the back of his hand, Xiao Yunhai cast a cold, indifferent gaze ahead.
His surroundings seemed to fade into insignificance as he focused inward, assessing his condition. He had recovered roughly seventy percent of his energy—a remarkable feat, considering the dire state he had been in just moments ago.
The Flame Return Pellet had proven to be a priceless treasure, its effects far surpassing his expectations.
Not only had it eradicated the Withered Rose poison, but it had also replenished a significant portion of his strength. However, he knew better than to rely on such a miracle twice.
The pill's potency was a one-time boon, and he doubted a second consumption would yield the same results.
"Dao Li! Divine Immortal Sect!" Xiao Yunhai's voice cut through the silence, cold and unyielding. A ruthless smile played on his lips as he spoke, his words dripping with venom. "I'll get even with you as soon as I attain godhood. This embarrassment—I'll see to it that you witness it threefold. No, more than that."
For a brief moment, a dense, murderous intent radiated from him, so potent it seemed to darken the air around him.
But just as quickly as it had emerged, he reined it in, his expression returning to its usual stoic calm.
Unlike most experts, he wasn't afraid of his aura leaking out and alerting his enemies. He had courted death more times than he could count, and each brush with mortality had tempered his heart into something unyielding, fearless.
He knew the Divine Immortal Sect would never let him go, just as he would never let them off. They were no benevolent Buddhas, and calling them heartless demons would be an understatement.
His thoughts turned to the innocent child resting in his arms. Xiao Ming, his son, was the only thing that gave him pause.
The boy had been thrust into this chaos through no fault of his own, a mere baby caught in the crossfire of a war he couldn't possibly understand.
For nearly a month, they had been hunted like animals, fleeing from one danger to the next. The cliff had been a desperate gamble, one that had nearly cost them both their lives.
Xiao Yunhai owed his son more than he could ever repay. He could only hope that, one day, Xiao Ming wouldn't look back on these moments with hatred.
To the Sheng Yun realm, Xiao Yunhai was the Disaster Demon—a figure of fear and destruction.
But beneath that fearsome exterior lay the heart of an affectionate father and husband, a side of him the world had never seen.
The road ahead was fraught with peril, and he wasn't even sure of his own survival, let alone his son's. But he would do whatever it took to protect Xiao Ming, even if it meant making unimaginable sacrifices.
"Little Ming," Xiao Yunhai murmured, his voice softening as he gazed down at the sleeping child.
The cold, unyielding air around him seemed to melt away, replaced by a rare tenderness.
"I'm really sorry to do this, but we both have no choice. You'll only understand when you're strong enough to tread this path. For now, it's better if you know very little."
With a gentle touch, he placed his jade-like fingers on Xiao Ming's glabella, the space between his eyebrows.
Soft dao chants spilled from his lips, ancient and resonant, as a blob of golden light emerged from the child's forehead.
The light hovered in the air, alluring and enchanting, before a grayish cage materialized around it, sealing it tightly within its confines. The caged light drifted back into Xiao Ming's glabella, disappearing without a trace.
The golden light contained Xiao Ming's earliest memories—his time with his parents, moments of warmth and love that were now too dangerous for him to remember.
The seal would keep those memories locked away until Xiao Ming was strong enough to unlock them himself, with his cultivation reaching a level where he could bear the weight of his past.
For now, the child would grow up unaware of the dangers that surrounded him, his innocence preserved.
Xiao Ming stirred slightly, muttering incoherently in his sleep, but he remained undisturbed. Xiao Yunhai's expression was grave as he cradled the child closer, his heart heavy with the weight of his decision.
With a final glance at the surroundings, he set off, leaving the desolate landscape behind.
…
A fortnight later...
Xiao Yunhai's headless journey brought him to the outskirts of a small, bustling town. The air here was peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos he had left behind at the Sheng Yun Realm.
The town was modest, its streets lined with simple homes and shops, the sounds of laughter and chatter filling the air.
It was a place where mortals lived their lives undisturbed by the machinations of fearsome cultivators, a place where one could cultivate in seclusion and comprehend the dao through the simplicity of mortal experiences.
From what his Royal Spirit-level core-sense could detect, the town was devoid of powerful cultivators.
The strongest auras he sensed belonged to a few Dao-Merge cultivators who were known as Dao-Masters—or sometimes Demi Immortals.
These figures were considered insignificant in the grand scheme of things back in the Sheng Yun realm. There, Dao-Masters numbered in the billions, their status barely above that of ordinary mortals.
In contrast, this town was a backwater, its inhabitants unaware of the vast world beyond their borders.
The Heaven and Earth qi here was thin, making cultivation a slow and arduous process. But for Xiao Ming, this was the perfect environment. It was safe, far removed from the dangers of the Sheng Yun realm, and it offered an opportunity for the child to grow up without the immense burden of his heritage.
Here, Xiao Ming could develop his mental fortitude and willpower, tempered by the simplicity of mortal life.
Xiao Yunhai's heart ached at the saddening thought of leaving his son behind, but he knew it was the only way.
Once Xiao Ming was settled, he could focus on resolving the calamity that had befallen them. Only then could he hope to reunite with his family and reclaim the peaceful life they once had.