In the Wuxia world, a group of minor clans within the Unorthodox Faction cherished a long-held dream: to grasp power in their hands. However, the group was a semblance of fools. They turned to abducting children, transforming them into "Hinds," and teaching them the baleful Blood Demonic Art – a martial art created by the Second Heavenly Demon, infamous throughout Wuxia.
The Blood Demonic Art became a curse for the Hinds. One by one, they succumbed to the art's dark energies, their bodies unable to withstand the strain due to their lack of demonic blood. Yet, one individual defied that helplessness and survived: a young man named Sheng Cheon.
...
Alex was in a dire situation; the tentacles had grown too powerful, turning the ground into dust. Their speed and movement were like serpents, making it harder to dodge. His breath was shallow, he clenched his fists, blood falling in drops from his wounded palm.
"I don't have any choice left right now," he thought. "I am in a die-or-live situation. Furthermore, I can't accept defeat – or I never accepted defeat. That was the way I conquered the heavens, and I am still the same."
Alex's thoughts were calm. He inhaled sharply. "I have to use martial arts. There's only one martial art I can use right now, and it will be a perfect countermeasure to him – but it's going to trade off my life force."
Alex bit into his thumb, drawing blood. The crimson drops of blood dripped down his hand. With a focused exhale, he surged his Qi into the blood. A red glow surrounded the area around him, the blood twisted in mid-air, making tiny red beads which, in the blink of an eye, turned into a living spider web.
The moon cast a sinister light over him, reflecting his murderous atmosphere. The Messenger's tentacles lashed out once more, but with the flick of his wrist, the blood threads surged forward, slicing through the tentacles like double-edged swords.
Under the moonlight, the threads sparkled with deadly distinctness, severing every limb that dared to approach him. Most of the tentacles fell to the ground, yearning helplessly. The Messenger halted for a moment, and with a clenched shout that could pierce eardrums, he growled, making an inhuman sound.
From his robes, thousands of small tentacles launched at Alex, making a square zone of flesh around him. However, Alex made a square layer beneath with his blood art that protected him. Still, from the inside of the tentacles, some inhuman, little, disgusting creatures – like worms that could even defy the word "disgust" – were making holes into the layer of blood.
"Fu*k, it's purely sickening," he said with disgust in his tone. However, he bit his own tongue, turning his blood into thousands of small needles that couldn't even be visible to the eyes. He spat at those small creatures, making them unconscious.
"What should I do about this square? Its force and layers are making me unable to cut or destroy it," he said with hopelessness. "Should I use my Aura?" he asked himself. "No, I can't control both at the same time – my body would tear apart that way. Then, what should I do?"
A thought came into his mind: "Can I combine them?" He didn't have time; the square was getting smaller every second. "I don't have any choice – let's do this," he whispered.
He tried to pour his aura into Qi, and a burst – Boom! – made the tentacles' rags fly. "Oh, it was completely a failure, but still, it worked in my favour – but my face and hands are completely wrecked right now," he said, panting on his knees.
As Alex stood on the ground, the Messenger's tentacles were completely wrecked. Arnik, who had been cowering behind the Messenger, shouted in fear, "Sir Messenger, do something! He's going to kill us!"
The man in robes spoke in anger, his voice inhuman and demonic. "You petty fool, don't you dare to order me!" His voice was unnatural, as though it carried a mix of human and demon curses.
"Kid, you are impressive, but do you really think you can kill me?" The Messenger laughed; the sound echoed ominously. "Cut my tentacles as much as you like; they will regenerate. You can't defeat me."
As the Messenger concentrated, his tentacles refused to heal. His expression shifted from confidence to confusion and finally to fear. "Why... why can't they regenerate?" he rumbled.
Though Alex's lips curled into a chilling, wide grin stretched smile.
"Feeling scared, Messenger? Gonna cry?" The Messenger's eyes widened. "What have you done to me?"
"Okay, let me tell you," Alex explained, his tone mischievous. "My blood art doesn't cut flesh." He paused for a moment. "It cuts through life itself."
"No, no, I am sorry to exaggerate and lie," he said, his tone still mischievous. "It's simple: I infused my Qi into your tentacles every time I gashed them. That blocked your regeneration. "They are part of your body, aren't they? That means if I don't stop the Qi flowing into them…."
Alex leaned forward, his tone ice-cold. "You'll die."
For the first time, the Messenger's confidence cracked. His eyes flicked to Arnik and Nancy, finally showing his appearance, then back to Alex. But suddenly, he smiled, his lips twisted as if he was mocking Alex.
"You think you have won, boy?" The Messenger's voice turned into a venomous hiss. "Let me ask you something…. Do you love your mother?"
Alex froze. His heart skipped a beat. "What are you talking about? Tell me."
The Messenger widened his smile. "She fought well. You know. Tried to save the maids of the mansion. But no matter how much she resisted, she couldn't win. She is locked in a dungeon by me. If you kill me, you'll never see her alive again. The worms, my kids, will eat her alive."
Alex's vision blurred in anger. His blood boiled as his Qi flooded uncontrollably. "You… you bastard. If you have hurt her—"
"Relax, boy," the Messenger interrupted, laughing. "She is alive…. For now. Let's make a deal, shall we? You let me go, and I will give her back to you. A fair trade, don't you think? Your beloved mother in exchange for my petty life?"
Alex's hands trembled. He wanted to end the man right there, cut him into pieces, but he couldn't risk the life of the woman who called him her son.
"Fine," Alex said, his voice cold and flat. "Bring her here right now."
The Messenger snapped his fingers, and a glowing oval-shaped dungeon gate appeared behind him. From within, a figure stumbled out, bruised and injured, but alive.
"Mother!" Alex shouted, his voice breaking as he rushed towards her.
The Messenger laughed. "Take her, boy. But I will remember this humiliation. You and your dear humanity have just eight years. Prepare yourself as much as you can. I will return, and my lord will consume everything you hold dear and will rule this world."
Like that, the Messenger vanished into the shadows of the dungeon, leaving Alex kneeling beside his unconscious mother.
As Alex regained his composure, he turned to Arnik and Nancy, who were trembling in fear. He rose to his feet, his gaze sharp as a sword.
"Talk," Alex commanded, grabbing Arnik by his collar and lifting him into the air. "Tell me everything you know, or you die right here, right now."
Nancy screamed, scratching Alex's leg. "Let him go, please don't hurt him! He's my father."
Alex glanced at her, his expression indifferent. "Tch, I am leaving you in the hands of the law. Don't you dare try to run away anywhere? If you run, you die."
Arnik and Nancy nodded as if conforming, not daring to move an inch from where they were.
Alex took slow steps towards his mother, then gently picked her up, holding her as if she were the most fragile thing in the world. Though he had grown significantly since transmigrating, his hands were still small, but he cradled her securely as he turned towards the dorm building, taking slow steps.
The woman's eyes fluttered open, her vision hazy at first. Slowly, the image of her son's face came into focus, his scars stark under the dim light. Tears welled in her eyes as she whispered, her voice weak but full of love, "I've made you worry, haven't I? Please… forgive your mother."
Alex's gaze softened as he met her eyes. His hardened demeanour melted for a moment. "You're awake… Don't worry, Mother. You haven't made me worry. You know your son is the strongest in this world. I've already defeated that disgusting monster."
A faint smile graced her lips, though pain lingered in her expression. "I know… my son is the strongest." Her voice was faint, but the pride in her tone was unmistakable.
"Don't talk too much, Mother," Alex said, his voice gentle yet firm. "You're still injured. Save your strength—I'll make sure everything is fine."
Though her body felt heavy, she reached out weakly, her trembling hand brushing against Alex's cheek. "You've grown so much…" she whispered. "Even with these scars, you're still my beautiful boy."
Though Alex opened his mouth, his voice trembling as he began to say, "I am not your—"
Before he could finish, a sudden, thrilling sound cut through the air. A spear, from the back It pierced through Alex's chest, the force driving it downward at a brutal angle—and into his mother's heart,
Time seemed to freeze.
Alex gasped, blood spilling from his lips. Let out a strained, bitter laugh, his voice trembling with both pain and fury. "I knew… I couldn't trust anyone… I knew. And yet, I still gave you a chance spared your life—because of her.