( Authors note: I want to apologize for not uploading these last two weeks, why you might ask? Well the reason is kinda embarrassing, some novel called "as heavens divide" started dropping and I couldn't stop reading it lol, it gave me a lot of inspiration and was a good read, so I hope you guys will check it out. Anyway, enjoy the chapter.)
In the dim, musty prison, where the air was thick with the scent of damp stone and decay, Xiong Wei Zu sat cross-legged on the cold floor, drenched in sweat, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Across from him, the zombie man remained chained to the wall, his undead form slumped in a strange, peaceful sleep—if the dead could find peace that is.
Inside Wei Zu's body, chaos raged. Within his aperture, a small, writhing creature glowed: a peculiar purple snake like being.
For days, Wei Zu had fought to subdue this strange entity, pouring every ounce of his mortal essence into the struggle. And now, he was so close. The creature's deep purple hue began to shift, fading into a shade of orange that flickered like a flame. Its body crackled with an ember-like glow, as if it might burst into fire at any moment.
But just as he neared the final stages of refinement, his energy faltered. Wei Zu's reserves of mortal essence dwindled, the light in his aperture dimming like a lantern running out of oil.
Exhaustion weighed heavy on his mind and body; he had gone too long without sleep or food, and the strain was wearing him down. If he failed now, all his progress would be lost, or worse, the serpent might lash out, seizing the opportunity and devouring him from the inside.
He couldn't afford to lose, and he didn't trust the zombie to save him, he was someone of demonic path after all.
With no options left, Wei Zu made a desperate choice. He reached into the folds of his robes and pulled out three primeval stones.
Without hesitation, he shoved them into his mouth and swallowed. Immediately, his body convulsed, the sudden surge of essence causing his veins to bulge, his muscles to seize. It felt like he was being torn apart from within, his skin straining against the raw power now coursing through him. But he held on, forcing himself to focus.
Doing this he will get a surge of essence in exchange for his muscles tearing up, but luckily, he was a strength path cultivator, and so where his ancestors, so he could take this much without dying.
Now, with a fresh wave of energy burning inside him, Wei Zu unleashed everything he had on the snake. His attacks were wild and imprecise, his vision blurring as he struggled to maintain control.
Yet, for every missed strike, there was another that hit true, driving the creature back, cornering it within the confines of his aperture.
The snake, sensing its impending defeat, thrashed violently, lunging toward the edges of Wei Zu's soul in a final bid for freedom, taking a large bite out of it.
But Wei Zu wasn't about to let it escape, clenching his jaw, he poured every shred of his willpower into subduing it.
Bit by bit, the snake's resistance weakened, its once menacing form shrinking until it was little more than a glowing worm.
The fiery orange light that radiated from its body bathed the inside of Wei Zu's aperture in a warm, flickering glow, like embers in a dying fire.
He knew what he had to do next, though he dreaded the thought.
Grimacing, he drew a small, sharp knife from his belt. This is about to hurt.
Steeling himself against the pain, Wei Zu sliced through his own pinky finger with a swift, brutal motion.
Blood flowed freely, dripping onto the stone floor and pooling beneath him. His breath hitched, a sharp cry escaping through gritted teeth, but he didn't allow himself a moment's hesitation.
With trembling hands, he tossed the severed digit into his aperture, offering it to the snake.
The creature darted forward, devouring the bloody finger in a single, ravenous gulp. As it did, Wei Zu felt a deep pull, like the last drops of his energy being drawn out. His vision swam, and the world grew distant and dim. He knew that he had done all he could.
Whether the refinement succeeded or failed was no longer in his hands.
With the exhaustion of sleepless nights, hunger gnawing at his insides, and the blood loss from his self-inflicted wound, his body could take no more. He slumped to the ground, consciousness slipping away, the cold stone pressing against his cheek as he collapsed into darkness.
Unknown to Wei Zu, as his mind drifted into unconsciousness, a transformation took place inside him. The orange glow in his aperture began to form into something new, taking on a more defined shape. It twisted and contorted, solidifying into the form of a small hand, burning with the same fiery light that had once flickered within the serpent. It had only one finger, but its presence was undeniable.
This was no ordinary creation. It was the Puppetry Gu, the refinement was a success!
Now the puddle of blood, dark and thick, crept across the cold floor, its slow, winding path making its way to the feet of the slumbering zombie. The scent of iron mingled with the musty dampness of the cell.
Xiong Wei Zu lay unconscious, sprawled on the stone, his face pale and streaked with sweat. His cheeks were hollow from days of starvation, his lips chapped and bloodied. His eyes were shut tight, lashes flickering slightly as if caught in a restless dream. His hand, where his pinky had once been, bled freely, staining his robes a deep crimson.
The moment the blood reached the zombie's feet, his eyes snapped open. His purple pupils, clouded over with the haze of death, glowed faintly under the cell's dim light.
His "disciple" was laying before him, broken and battered, his hand missing a finger. Wei Zu's chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, every exhale ragged with exhaustion. But the zombie did not waste a second on sympathy or concern.
His expression was a grim mask, more a puppet's face than a human's, with skin that had long since lost any warmth or softness.
He extended his hand, and from his fingertips, threads of glowing purple energy materialized, shimmering in the dark like ghostly veins. With a flick of his wrist, the strings coiled around Wei Zu's limp body, tightening around his chest and arms. He tugged sharply, and Wei Zu's form slid across the floor toward him, his body jerking as if dragged by unseen hands.
He didn't glance at the wound where the pinky had been severed, nor at the boy's sweat-drenched face. Instead, he directed his attention to Wei Zu's aperture.
And then, something remarkable happened. A sound—strange and unsettling—escaped the zombie's mouth. It was a laugh, though it barely resembled one. A dry, crackling sound that grated against the walls, like the creak of a rusty gate in a forgotten graveyard.
The echo of his laughter seeped through the thick, iron door of the cell, sending shivers down the spines of the prisoners outside. None dared to speak, and even the bravest among them felt a chill race down their necks.
They could only imagine the terror unfolding behind those closed doors.
The zombie's shoulders shook with mirth, and for a moment, there was a gleam in his dead eyes. He bent over Wei Zu, speaking in that same eerie voice, each word rasping like dry leaves caught in the wind. "The brat... he's actually done it... succeeded where so many others failed."
He continued to mutter to himself, his voice a whisper that reverberated through the darkness. "The puppetry Gu... it cannot be tamed twice, it cannot be taken from its master once refined, ...this reckless fool has done it." The zombie's grin widened, though the expression was more sinister than joyful. His sunken face twisted, revealing the hollow depths of his cheeks, the teeth too sharp behind his thin lips.
"An orange glow... interesting. A flame wild and untamed, just like him. A fire that blazes without restraint, unbound by caution or fear." He paused, tilting his head as if examining the depths of the glow within Wei Zu's aperture, though his eyes held no emotion. "This reckless fool... staking everything on a single, desperate chance."
The zombie's lips twitched into a thin, distorted smile, more akin to a rictus than any expression of joy. The sight was unsettling, a grim mockery of what a smile should be.
"A fire like that... it devours, it consumes without mercy," he continued, his voice barely more than a breath, "but such flames can burn out just as quickly. Yet... if it lasts... if he survives..."
His gaze drifted down to Wei Zu's unconscious form, taking in the gaunt lines of his body, the blood-smeared robes, and the shallow rise and fall of his chest. A faint, twisted smile curled his lips. "Yes... he will be interesting to teach."
He moved his hands in a delicate dance, and more of the glowing strings poured from his fingertips. They slid through the air, weaving a lattice of shimmering purple threads that wrapped tightly around Wei Zu's body.
Then, with a sudden, jerking motion, the zombie forced several of the strings into Wei Zu's ears, threading them deep into his mind.
"This will make sure you won't tell anyone what you learned."
The young man's body convulsed at the intrusion, a shudder running through his limp form as the threads wormed their way into his consciousness. The zombie's grin never wavered, even as his focus sharpened.
After that, the zombie summoned a multitude of threads, each one glowing with a faint, ethereal light. The strings wove around Wei Zu's injury, encircling the bleeding stump where his finger had been. They tightened and glowed brighter, a strange warmth spreading through the wound. The skin began to knit together beneath the threads, the torn flesh sealing itself, and the flow of blood slowed to a stop.
The threads pulsed, the purple light suffusing Wei Zu's body with a gentle warmth, knitting together his torn muscles and soothing the damage wrought by days of strain and starvation. The boy's breathing steadied, and the lines of pain on his face softened, his body finally finding a moment's rest.
The zombie watched all of this with a detached fascination, his cracked smile still lingering on his lips.
"Ahhh.. master.. I will make sure the path that she created will flourish once again!"
———
While that was happening:
On a desolate road, a group of mortals shuffled along, their ankles bound with heavy iron chains that clinked with every movement.
They walked barefoot, feet sore and blistered from the relentless terrain, their faces downcast with the heavy weight of misfortune.
These mortals were bound in chains, the result of sheer bad luck. They were once simple farmers, but fate had turned against them. Caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, they found themselves enslaved to the whims of the Gu Masters who now drove them forward, their lives reduced to a slow, agonizing march toward an uncertain fate.
At the head of the line, a figure strode with a confident gait, his hand gripping the chain that kept the mortals tethered together. This was a Rank 2 Gu Master, a man who appeared to be in his early fifties, with a thick beard streaked with gray, framing a face weathered by age and experience.
His skin was rough, tanned by years spent in the wilderness, and his broad shoulders spoke of a lifetime of physical labor. He wore simple functional robes, adorned only by a few insignias that marked his rank, their faded edges hinting at the many years he had worn them.
Trailing the group, another Gu Master kept a watchful eye on the stragglers. He appeared younger, perhaps in his twenties, with a slender frame that made him seem almost fragile.
His long black hair was tied back loosely, and his features were so fine and delicate that from a distance, he could easily be mistaken for a woman. His skin was pale, almost unnaturally so, and he wore robes that clung to his wiry form, their dark fabric swaying with each step.
The two of them were delivery Gu Masters from a distant cavern. The rest of their group was still some distance away, but these two had taken it upon themselves to forge ahead, driven by the urgency of their task. They had something of great importance to deliver, something that couldn't afford delay.
The mortals, who where just simple farmers, founded themselves in this position because one of them had made the mistake of assuming the younger Gu Master was a woman and had tried to charm him with clumsy words.
The misunderstanding had cost him dearly. Not only did he suffer for his misstep, but his friends, who pleaded for mercy on his behalf, found themselves punished as well.
Under normal circumstances, the Gu Masters might have simply killed the insolent mortals and left their bodies to rot in the sun. But they were tasked with maintaining good relations with the clan to whom they were delivering, and it would look better if they presented their captives in person.
Besides, they took a perverse pleasure in dragging out the mortals' suffering, planning to end their miserable lives once they received the proper permission.
As they walked, the older Gu Master turned his head slightly, calling back to his companion, "We're close now. Soon, this job will be behind us."
The younger one nodded, his voice carrying a hint of eagerness. "I can't wait. I'm looking forward to a real bed, and maybe some company... if you know what I mean."
The older Gu Master let out a grunt of amusement. "You're always thinking about women. If you put half that energy into cultivating, you'd have reached Rank 3 by now!"
This wasn't just a simple joke, the guy was really talented, having a B grade aperture and being at peak stage cultivation, if he put his mind to it, he would break trough for sure.
"I plan to gramps, after I finish this job, I will have enough money to upgrade my vital gu to rank 3."
"If you say so squirt, hahahaha."
While they were chitchatting, one of the mortals muttered to himself, bitterness lacing his voice. "A man like him shouldn't be so privileged... The heavens should be fair."
But the heavens, as he would soon learn, had their own strange sense of balance.
A sudden, piercing scream broke the monotony of their journey. It came from the direction of a nearby hillside, echoing through the trees.
The group halted, their eyes turning towards the noise, where they saw a horse tumbling down the rocky slope.
This was no ordinary horse, it was a Wild Ironhide, known for its strength and resilience, a beast that could withstand the roughest terrain and the fiercest predators. But now, its once-proud frame had been reduced to a gaunt shadow of itself. Its muscles shriveled as if drained of life, eyes wide with panic as its body wasted away before their very eyes.
The horse let out one last, agonized screech before collapsing in a heap, its bones visible beneath its thinning hide. From the fallen creature eye, a tiny red insect slide out, its wings resembling a butterfly's but with a glinting needle-like appendage protruding from its body. The insect darted away from the horse's corpse and buzzed toward a figure emerging from the shadows of the woods.
He stepped into view, a man with white hair, dressed in the plain but sturdy clothes typical of a Gu Master. Yet his appearance was marred by burn scars that crisscrossed his face, giving him a twisted, almost haunting look. His eyes gleamed with an unsettling light as the insect sank into the swirling his aperture.
The man's lips curled into a smile as he regarded the two Gu Masters before him, a smile that seemed to hold a secret no one else could grasp. A thought danced through his mind, leaving a chill in the air.
'It seems a tribulation has come,' he mused silently, his gaze fixed on his unwitting audience.