Viewer Discretion: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Gore
(You know what? I won't do these warnings anymore, lol.)
Viewer Discretion for all future chapters: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Gore
***
The moment the formation's faint glow died out, Luo Ming, who had been leaning against a rough wall in an adjoining chamber, snapped his eyes open. Pain throbbed in his chest from the critical injury inflicted by Shen Lei. He forced himself upright, ignoring the wave of dizziness, one hand clutching his side where the flesh had been rent deep.
"What happened?" he muttered under his breath. "Why did the barrier collapse?" He took a few unsteady steps, blood still trickling through the fingers he used to keep pressure on the wound. "Did Elder Wang arrive? No. He'd have passed here if he did."
With rising trepidation, Luo Ming limped through the short tunnel that led into the now unsealed cavern. A stench of blood assaulted his nostrils, so intense it nearly made him gag. The first glimpse of the cave's interior made his stomach lurch. Carnage splayed across the stone floor: all of his sect-mates—no, his entire strike force—lay dead in varying positions of grotesque finality. Some had gaping chest wounds; others had heads smashed, skull fragments glistening in thick red pools. A few had been hacked apart so viciously that their torsos lay in two or more pieces. And the two seventh-stage cultivators, once proud warriors, lay twisted together, their own weapons impaling one another's bodies, locked in a grisly scene.
Luo Ming's eyes flared with shock. He stepped over a body part and nearly slipped on the coagulating blood. His heart pounded faster. Every corpse told a story of violent ends. He recognized the techniques that had inflicted these injuries—some were simple stabs, but others indicated advanced Qi usage, strong enough to slice bodies clean in half.
But what truly seized his attention was the figure standing in the middle of it all. A small silhouette, two heads smaller than him—a mere kid, drenched from head to toe in sticky maroon as though he'd bathed in his victims' blood. The child's posture was calm. The gore on his clothes looked almost symbolic—the remnants of the monstrous acts that had played out here.
Instinctively, Luo Ming scanned the child's Qi with spiritual sense. The reading jolted him. Stage four—barely a fledgling on the cultivation path. He refused to believe it, scanning again with more focus. The same result. A fourth-stage Qi Condensation cultivator, standing amid the shredded corpses of at least a dozen powerful fighters, including advanced realms on his own side. No matter how insane it seemed, the proof glistened under flickering crystal lights: a solitary boy with half a cave of slain foes at his feet.
"What... the fuck is this...?" he mumbled, cold sweat forming at his brow. In the entire Nocturnis Vale or beyond, he'd never heard of such a phenomenon—a young cultivator so low in stage cutting down so many across multiple realms. Even the greatest young geniuses he'd heard of—backed by formidable clans and sects—could never manage this. Comparing them was like the difference between heaven and earth. It felt like staring at something that defied the rules of the world.
Fear mingled with anger in Luo Ming's chest. He gazed at the battered child more carefully, noticing the tremors in the boy's stance and the subtle irregularity in his breathing. The kid was obviously exhausted and injured, likely at the limit of his stamina. He was like an arrow at the end of its flight. Yet it was still a child who had ended his entire squad.
At that moment, an icy determination flared in Luo Ming's eyes, killing intent rising. He refused to let this monstrous creature live. If such potential were allowed to grow, the Bloodmoon Dynasty—no, the entire region—might face a catastrophe in years to come. "I need to strike now," he whispered to himself, ignoring the pain in his chest. "One mistake, and I'm the next carcass here." He cursed the absence of Elder Wang. If that Elder's presence were here, finishing the job would be trivial.
But the child's gaze lifted, locking onto him—emotionless, unblinking eyes that looked straight through his defenses. Luo Ming felt a shiver run the length of his spine, as if he were a lamb facing a lion. No, worse. Not even his own sect leader, a Core Formation cultivator, had ever incited such dread in him.
"This can't be real..." Luo Ming thought. "He's just a fourth-stage Qi Condensation brat! A confrontation with some at this stage is normally like a beast devouring a newborn calf... yet why do I feel like the calf?!"
He gritted his teeth, forcing Qi into his limbs. The child remained silent, a Tang Dao dripping thick, half-clotted blood from its edge. Every nerve in Luo Ming's body screamed for him to kill this demonic boy now—or be killed himself.
The moment Luo Ming shifted to start his assault, the kid actually struck first, flickering into motion with a swift dash. In a heartbeat, he crossed the distance, Tang Dao slashing directly at Luo Ming's neck. Eyes widening, Luo Ming deflected the blade with a forward sweep of his arm; dark Qi engulfed his hand, colliding with the blood-smeared steel. The blow rebounded with a shriek of metal, vibrations rippling through their limbs.
Luo Ming counterpunched with his free hand—a brutal, straight jab that whipped the air into a violent gust. Just before impact, the kid twisted away, evading only barely, the force of the wind blowing him back to his original position. Luo Ming's lip curled in a snarl as he sized the boy up again—this adversary was nimble, yes, but he also seemed unbelievably calm given the ruinous wounds littering his body.
"I've got you now..." Luo Ming thought, focusing his Qi in his legs. Despite the deep cut in his chest, he forced his body forward in a faster dash than the child's initial move, aiming a fist at the boy's upper torso. Halfway through, Luo Ming's injured flesh twinged, slowing his strike. Still, it was dangerously swift.
Rather than dodge, the child adjusted his body, bracing. Dark Veil shimmered at a precise point on his shoulder where Luo Ming's punch would land—yet the Qi-laced blow blasted through it with a wet, rending sound, skin and muscle shredding instantly. A split-second glimpse of exposed white bone glinted through the shredded flesh. Any normal cultivator would stagger or let out a wail. This kid gave no outward reaction, showing as little emotion as if he'd merely bumped into someone on a busy street.
At that same moment, Silent Fang snapped into Luo Ming's abdomen in a pinpoint jab—a direct strike to an acupoint that partially governs Qi flow above the dantian. Luo Ming grunted in pain, forced back a few steps, clutching his midsection.
He glared at the boy. "Dual casting?!" he spat, breathing ragged. "You really are a monster... Rgh!" He grimaced, trying to summon another attack. Instead, he felt his Qi responding at half its usual speed. "What...? My Qi... it's slowed? So this is your... your damned technique!" His voice wavered with a mix of rage and disbelief.
Now robbed of some Qi speed, Luo Ming decided to switch to raw close-quarters combat, trusting in his superior age, experience, and physical advantage. They met in the center of the cavern in a flurry of hand-to-hand blows and short-range Qi moves. At first, Luo Ming started to edge forward, landing a cluster of hits on the kid, each blow accompanied by sickening impacts of fists against still-gaping wounds. More blood splattered as the child was forced back step by step, his clothing in tatters, shoulders laced with fresh cuts.
Just as Luo Ming sensed victory and prepared to deliver a final strike, the child's entire fighting style changed. His footwork shifted, and the flow of his martial arts became something else—an unpredictable flurry of moves, each transition so fluid it looked like he'd invented them on the spot. Luo Ming's eyes widened as the boy hammered him with a rapid barrage, forcing him on the defensive.
"You were acting weak all along!" Luo Ming roared. "Pretending to be the pig to eat the tiger?!"
At that moment, the kid's Silent Fang nailed Luo Ming again, this time near his core meridians, blocking his Qi flow for several seconds. Luo Ming let out a strangled gasp, staggering backward, unable to form a proper attack. Panic blazed in his eyes; he fired up what little Qi remained in his legs and retreated across the cavern, desperate for a sliver of time to restore his circulation.
"Ha, hah... hah..." He panted, sweat and blood trickling down his forehead. He forced his Qi to stir, trying to break the blockade at his dantian. Then, he raised his head, scanning for the boy—only for his face to twist in pure horror: the kid stood a mere meter from him, drenched in blood, expression colder than ever, Tang Dao raised overhead. Luo Ming's heart lurched.
"H-How did—" He never finished. The blade descended, burying itself in Luo Ming's skull with a sickening crunch. Bone splintered, and the top half of his head split open in a shower of gray matter and blood. A last gurgle rattled in his throat, his eyes rolling back. His body slumped instantly, and half his brain spewed over the rocky floor.
Silence enveloped the cavern once more. The kid, panting and bleeding from countless lacerations, pulled his blade free from the ruined remains of Luo Ming's skull with a wet, sticky noise. Then, standing among the torn bodies, he forced his trembling legs to stay upright—victorious in a scene of utter, unspeakable carnage.
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I panted, my lungs feeling as if they were ready to burst. A ragged, rasping "hah... hah..." echoed from my lips. Both of my legs trembled uncontrollably—pain radiated from my ankles upward. A quick, brutal assessment told me I'd ruptured both Achilles tendons during that final dash to finish the eighth-stage cultivator. Self-harm tactics, yes, but absolutely necessary. If I'd delayed that kill even a moment, I might not have had time to leave before their Elder arrived.
Struggling to stand, I hobbled for the exit. Every nerve in my body screamed in protest. The entire cavern was a charnel house of severed limbs and puddles of viscera, but I paid it little heed, too focused on escape. I might have grabbed the bulging pouches tied to my enemies' belts, but greed and short-sight would doom me if their Elder arrived mid-looting.
At last, the passage opened up to the mouth of the cave, letting in a dim, cold light. The swirling gloom of the Nocturnis Vale was a comfort compared to the slaughterhouse behind me. I braced an arm against the rough stone at the exit, forcing away a wave of dizziness. My body teetered on the brink of collapse, and I had just begun to wonder if I could vanish into the night when a crushing aura bore down on me, far more potent than anything I'd sensed before. The difference between that eighth-stage cultivator and this new presence was like the difference between heaven and earth.
So he's arrived. My heart felt like a lump of lead as an invisible pressure descended. My every muscle locked up, protesting the aura that hammered me from behind. His killing intent was palpable—he wanted me dead. No illusions about it. My ragged state offered no illusions: I couldn't fight such a being. Even if I were at my peak, bridging that gap would be borderline impossible.
"Hmph! Impudent brat!" The voice thundered, seeming to reverberate through the stone walls. "I'll kill your nine generations for what you've done to my sect members!"
A swirl of Qi hurtled at my back with lethal force. Reflexively, I spun and raised my Tang Dao to block. The instant our energies collided, my sword snapped into shards of metal, completely overwhelmed by the sheer power of this new attacker. The residual wave slammed into me, hurtling me out of the cave mouth like a doll.
Blood coughed from my lips, spattering my chin, as the impact tore at my flesh. My entire torso flared with agony, bones cracking under the pressure. Yet that wasn't even the end—still midair, I watched a dark-robed man appear in front of me, as though he could teleport. His robes bore bloody red sigils, his killing intent coiling around him in thick waves.
Grinning with sadistic glee, he thrust out a hand, forming a scarlet beam of Qi that pierced the air. I had no time—nor Qi reserves—to dodge. I twisted my body so it wouldn't strike vital organs. Even so, the beam punched through my side, leaving a gaping hole the size of a small lantern in my abdomen. A tide of warm blood poured out, and the leftover energy seared the wound from the inside, ravaging my organs. My vision blurred.
My flight ended when I crashed into a small hill, hitting hard enough to fracture vertebrae. Jolts of pain lanced through me, my entire body trembling. The notion of fighting back was absurd. I could barely move. My Qi was almost spent, nothing but dregs left. The man hovered down, demonstrating the ability to fly—a testament to his immeasurable power. Fury twisted his face into something inhuman.
"All because of you," he snarled, stepping closer. "I lost the inheritance—my entire plan ruined!" With a guttural snarl, he smashed a fist into my face, wanting me to cry out. Instead, I remained silent, my features impassive. Rage blazed in his eyes.
"You little spawn... I'll make sure you regret every breath. We'll see how long that silence lasts," he hissed, forming a new technique. He tore into my body with relentless brutality—slamming my ribs, wrenching my broken limbs, and twisting the blood-caked flesh around my open gut wound. But I refused to grant him satisfaction, even as fresh agony crackled through my nerves. My consciousness flickered with each blow, but numb detachment kept me from uttering a single scream. My jaws clenched so tightly that my teeth ached.
"Brat..." he cursed, stepping back to catch his breath. My own breathing was ragged, my lungs feeling starved of air. Chunks of me that had once been intact now hang in bloody ribbons. He crouched, that malicious grin etched on his face. "Kowtow a hundred times, and I might give you a quick death—maybe even leave your corpse whole. Also, you'll hand over your secret technique." His voice was thick with cruelty. "Don't think I'm fooled. You can't have killed my sect mates with a mere fourth-stage cultivation alone."
I gave no answer, only staring into his eyes with a dull, lifeless gaze. No reason to respond. He gnashed his teeth, fury rekindled, before he barked a hoarse laugh and slammed a heavy blow into my already gaping stomach wound, forcibly launching me once more. My world spun as I soared through the air, battered nearly senseless, the last shreds of strength in my limbs slipping away.
Time seemed to slow, my mind drifting through memories. "So it ends here," I mused, body flung across a rocky expanse. "The weak are prey to the strong. Simple as that."
He reappeared above me and hurled another Qi strike. I forced a final Dark Veil around my stomach to protect from the blow. The barrier's swirling energy shimmered with the last dregs of my Qi.
Seeing me struggle to construct a defense, the man scoffed, his expression twisted with contempt. "A mantis trying to stop a chariot," he sneered, his voice laced with mockery. His attack connected with the barrier.
Crack
The barrier collapsed on contact, letting the residual force tear my stomach wound wider. My body jerked as fresh shards of agony racked my nerves, a wave of heat rushing up my throat. Then I crashed once more, colliding with a cluster of boulders near the base of an unassuming hill, scraping my back raw, dislodging more bones from their sockets.
He landed with a graceful step, sneering as he saw me sprawled, motionless.
"Still alive, you roach," he muttered. "You should see yourself. You can't even stand. Yet still you stare at me with those cold eyes." He shook his head in mocking regret. "Such a waste. If you'd been part of my Bloodmoon Dynasty, the sect leader would have taken an interest in someone like you. But we can't share the same sky, boy."
I said nothing, turning my gaze up to the dismal skies overhead. The clouds were a deep, roiling black, not unlike an oncoming storm. I drew in a ragged breath, ignoring the swirl of iron in my mouth, ignoring the rivulets of blood rolling down my torso. A hush enveloped my mind as I accepted that my fate was sealed. No last-second miracle. No illusions. This was the end for me.
He readied his palm for a final Qi-blast, swirling red forming an orb in front of it. Even half-dead, I felt the lethal threat from that attack: it would blow out my chest or incinerate my head, whichever he chose. So be it.
But in that instant, the hill behind me grew translucent, shimmering with some unknown Qi. He noticed it too late. A swirling motion grasped my body from behind, like a spectral hand pulling me in. "What—?!" the man barked, lunging forward with a savage lunge, but the transparent barrier flicked out, repelling him.
I felt my exhausted form sucked backward, deeper into the hill's half-ethereal rock, and my vision faded under the swirling energies. The last thing I saw was the elder's face contorting in pure rage, spitting curses as his red Qi battered the hill's surface. Yet it refused him entry, ignoring his attempts. The world turned black for me. My body collapsed into unconsciousness.
Darkness and numbness enveloped all.