The descent into the Redbloom King's domain was like stepping into the maw of a beast. The flickering torches along the narrow stairwell cast distorted shadows on the damp stone walls, amplifying the oppressive weight of the air. Scarface led the way, his charred frame moving stiffly, each step punctuated by the faint creak of his burned skin. Han Wei followed, his wide pupils darting nervously between the twisting shadows. Yao Qin trailed behind, his dangerous eyes sharp and calculating as he absorbed every detail of the passage.
The atmosphere was stifling, a cloying blend of dark-metallic Qi and damp stone. Tendrils of dark energy pulsed faintly along the walls, writhing as if alive. Yao Qin's instincts screamed that this was no ordinary lair. The oppressive aura wasn't simply a display of power—it was a statement of dominance, a manifestation of the Redbloom King's will.
Han Wei stumbled on a loose stone, catching himself with a muffled curse. Scarface didn't even glance back. Despite his battered body and missing arm, his Qi was volatile and unrestrained, a constant reminder of the danger he posed. The fire hadn't broken him; if anything, it had made him more dangerous, his cultivation sharper and more vicious.
Yao Qin's mind churned as they descended. The Redbloom King's domain reeked of power beyond a Qi Sea cultivator. This wasn't natural. It reminded him of the ancient and forbidden techniques in his previous life. A chill ran through him at the thought.
They emerged into a vast courtyard. The iron gates groaned open, revealing an eerie, almost pristine expanse surrounded by crumbling walls. Jagged remnants of past battles littered the grounds: broken weapons embedded in the earth, faint bloodstains that refused to fade, and skeletal remains half-buried in the stone. At the centre of the courtyard stood a brazier burning with unnatural green flames, casting warped shadows that danced in the periphery of Yao Qin's vision.
Scarface paused briefly, his breath rasping as his eyes flicked to the glowing barrier of dark Qi encircling the estate. "Keep moving," he growled, his voice sharp and cutting. Han Wei flinched and quickened his pace, while Yao Qin maintained his measured steps, his gaze flicking to the glowing barrier. It shimmered faintly, almost breathing, and sent a subtle ripple of discomfort through him.
As they approached the main hall, the oppressive aura deepened. The walls of the grand structure loomed high, adorned with faded carvings of chains and thorns that seemed to writhe in the flickering light. The heavy doors creaked open, revealing a dimly lit interior where the air was thick with the metallic tang of blood.
Scarface stepped inside without hesitation, his steps echoing in the cavernous space. Han Wei hesitated at the threshold, but a sharp glare from Scarface sent him scurrying forward. Yao Qin followed last, his gaze sweeping the room. The walls were lined with tattered banners depicting scenes of conquest and subjugation, their colours faded but their meaning unmistakable.
At the far end of the hall, a throne carved from blackened bone loomed in shadow. Even from a distance, the figure seated upon it exuded an aura that made Yao Qin's skin crawl. The Redbloom King was no ordinary cultivator. His presence was suffocating, his Qi a dark storm that pressed down on the room like an unspoken command to kneel.
Scarface dropped to one knee without hesitation, his head bowed. "My King," he said, his gravelly voice reverent yet strained.
Han Wei fumbled to mimic the gesture, his movements clumsy. Yao Qin, however, remained standing, his dangerous eyes locked on the King. The silence stretched, thick and palpable, as if the room itself was holding its breath.
The King's voice broke the tension, smooth and resonant, yet laced with menace. "You dare to stand in my presence?"
Yao Qin's lips twitched into a faint smile, and he bowed his head slightly, just enough to show respect without grovelling. "I am here to serve, Your Majesty."
The King's eyes gleamed faintly, his sharp features illuminated by the brazier's green glow. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze piercing. "Interesting," he murmured, his tone a mixture of amusement and curiosity. "Let us see if your actions match your words."
Scarface's muscles tensed, his jaw tightening as he cast a sidelong glance at Yao Qin. The tension in the room grew thicker, and Yao Qin could feel the weight of the Redbloom King's scrutiny pressing against him. Yet, he held his ground, his dangerous eyes steady and unflinching.
"Come closer," the King commanded, his voice a blade cutting through the oppressive atmosphere.
Yao Qin stepped forward, his movements deliberate and calm. As he neared the throne, the dark Qi swirling around the King became almost tangible, brushing against his skin like icy tendrils. Every instinct screamed at him to retreat, but he forced himself to remain composed.
The King studied him for a long moment, his expression inscrutable. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he motioned for Scarface to rise. "We shall see if this one is worth the trouble."
Scarface's lips curled into a faint, bitter smirk as he rose to his feet. "He won't disappoint you, my King."
The King's gaze lingered on Yao Qin, his sharp eyes narrowing. "For your sake, Scarface, I hope that is true."
The throne room was eerily silent as the Redbloom King reclined on his imposing seat of blackened bone. The green flames of the brazier cast flickering shadows across his angular features, lending him an otherworldly aura. His crimson robes shimmered faintly with Qi, a subtle display of the power coiling around him like a predator waiting to strike.
Scarface stood stiffly, his head bowed low. Han Wei knelt beside him, his trembling hands pressed against the cold stone floor. Yao Qin remained standing, his dangerous eyes locked onto the King. The weight of the King's gaze was suffocating, each second of silence stretching into an eternity.
Finally, the King's voice broke the stillness. Smooth and resonant, it carried an edge that sent a shiver through the room. "You return to me in defeat, Scarface," he said, each word a calculated blade. "Half the city burns, and the Tang still stand. Explain yourself."
Scarface's muscles tensed, his voice gravelly with forced composure. "My King, the Tang's forces were… unexpected. We suffered losses, but we disrupted their supplies and retrieved something of value."
The King's sharp eyes narrowed, the faintest hint of disdain flickering across his face. "Losses are a natural consequence of war. Weakness is not." His gaze shifted to Yao Qin. "And this one? He stood while others kneel. Is this your attempt at defiance, boy?"
Yao Qin inclined his head slightly, his voice steady. "Not defiance, Your Majesty. A display of purpose."
The King's lips twitched into a faint, sardonic smile. "Purpose. An interesting word. What purpose do you serve here?"
Scarface interjected quickly, his tone urgent. "He's sharp, my King. Resourceful. Took down an enforcer in the pits and secured something invaluable."
The King leaned forward slightly, his piercing gaze shifting between Scarface and Yao Qin. "Invaluable?" he echoed, his tone laced with curiosity.
Scarface gestured toward Yao Qin, his charred hand trembling faintly. "The boy retrieved a cultivation pill. High-grade. Enough to interest even you, my King."
Yao Qin reached into the satchel at his side and withdrew the Azure Pill, its faint blue glow casting an ethereal light over the room. The oppressive air seemed to shift as the pill's energy pulsed faintly, drawing the King's full attention.
"A rare treasure indeed," the King murmured, rising from his throne. Each step he took was deliberate, his robes billowing slightly as the air around him grew colder. He stopped inches from Yao Qin, his gaze boring into the boy's.
"You offer this to me as tribute?" the King asked, his voice soft but dangerous.
Yao Qin held his ground, his expression calm. "A gift, Your Majesty. To serve your will."
The King's Qi flared momentarily, an oppressive wave of energy that pressed against Yao Qin's chest. Yet, he didn't flinch. The King's sharp features softened slightly, his sardonic smile returning. "You intrigue me, boy. But intrigue is not loyalty. And loyalty must be earned."
He turned his gaze to Scarface, his voice cold. "You survive your burning failure because this child's actions amuse me. Do not mistake that for leniency."
Scarface bowed deeply, his gravelly voice hoarse. "Understood, my King."
The King's attention returned to Yao Qin. "You will have your chance to prove your worth," he said. "A test awaits you. Fail, and you'll join the ashes of this city. Succeed, and you may find yourself in my favour."
Yao Qin inclined his head again, his voice steady. "I will not fail, Your Majesty."
The King's eyes gleamed faintly, a chilling promise hidden within their depths. "We shall see."
With a dismissive wave of his hand, the King turned and ascended back to his throne. Scarface straightened, motioning sharply for Yao Qin and Han Wei to follow. The heavy doors creaked open once more, and the suffocating atmosphere began to lift as they stepped into the dim corridor.
Scarface's charred face twisted into a grimace as he glanced at Yao Qin. "You think you've impressed him?" he growled. "Don't let it get to your head. The King plays games we can't win."
The corridor stretched endlessly as Yao Qin followed Scarface and Han Wei, their footsteps muffled by the worn stone beneath. The oppressive atmosphere of the King's domain lingered, clinging to his skin like a second shadow. Yet, his mind was elsewhere, piecing together fragments of memory from his past life.
The Redbloom King was no ordinary cultivator. His rise to power was as much a tale of cunning and cruelty as it was of strength. In his previous life, Yao Qin had heard whispers—fragments of truth buried beneath layers of fear and reverence. The King wasn't just a Qi cultivator; his mastery extended into Soul Cultivation, a path feared for its darker methods.
While not all Soul Cultivation was depraved, its most infamous techniques—like those used by the Redbloom King—relied on ritual sacrifice, consuming souls to fuel immense power. This was why Soul Cultivation carried such a stigma, outlawed in many empires and regions. Yet, it offered unmatched versatility and terrifying strength for those willing to pay the price. The King had chosen this path deliberately, wielding its forbidden power to carve his name into the lower realms.
A year before Yao Qin's death, the King's legend solidified. The Barbarian King Jong Jong of the Dark Mountain Faction had challenged him in battle. Their clash left scars across Redbloom City.
Yao Qin's sharp eyes flicked to Scarface's burned figure ahead. The gang leader's loyalty to the King was unwavering, and it wasn't hard to see why. The King had a way of binding his followers, not just through fear but through power—power that elevated or destroyed with equal ease. The oppressive Qi of this domain wasn't just a display of strength; it was a reminder of the King's dominion, seeping into every stone and flicker of green flame.
Han Wei's voice broke through Yao Qin's thoughts. "This place… It feels alive. Like it's watching us."
Scarface snorted, his tone sharp. "That's the King's will you're feeling. Don't dwell on it, or it'll break you."
Han Wei shivered but said nothing more. Yao Qin's lips pressed into a thin line. Scarface wasn't wrong. The King's will wasn't freedom; it was chains, binding him as surely as it bound those who served him. But even chains could be broken.
Yao Qin's dangerous eyes narrowed as they approached another set of heavy doors, their intricate carvings depicting scenes of conquest and domination. The weight of the King's domain pressed against him, but he pushed it aside. The Redbloom King was not invincible. He had weaknesses, and Yao Qin was determined to find them.
Scarface stopped abruptly, turning to glare at Yao Qin. "You're quiet, kid. Planning something?"
Yao Qin met his gaze without flinching. "Just learning."
Scarface's lip curled into a bitter smirk. "Good. Keep it that way. The King likes his pawns sharp."
Yao Qin said nothing, his mind already racing ahead. The Redbloom King's shadow loomed large, but Yao Qin had faced worse. He had been betrayed, broken, and remade.