"Enough."
An Elder materialized atop a moss-crusted boulder, his robes ink-black and unadorned. His face was hidden behind a demon mask of polished human bone and scarlet as if painted in blood; its hollow eyes fixed on the disciples. As a pressure far above the Body Refinement realm pressed down upon all in it's presence and above his shoulder floated a Soul Lantern; its crimson flame casting long, accusing shadows.
The Ghoul Gobbling Infant dissolved into smoke with a shriek while Meng Yue's Yin Soul Thousand-Legged Shade was pressed to the floor as it screeched, leaving her lips stained with blood. Both heirs dropped to one knee, fists pressed to their chests in hollow deference.
From the trees, shadows stirred as Zhang Yan emerged, his own hunger cloaked beneath a veneer of calm. Only 28 disciples remained . Their faces were gaunt, their robes torn, but their eyes burned with the hardened glint of survivors.
The elder's masked face tilted. "You have passed the night. Rise as full members of the Demon Sect's Outer Circle."
He flicked his wrist. Charcoal-black robes materialized midair, each collar embroidered with a single crimson insignia of a horned demon.
"Wear these. They dull spiritual detection and resist lesser poisons. A privilege… for now."
Next, the Soul Lantern pulsed.
"Essence blood. Now."
One by one, the disciples approached...
Zhang Yan pricked his finger, letting a drop of blood fall into the flame. It flashed crimson, then dimmed; a sliver of his vitality now bound to the sect's Life Lantern Hall, where his soul's flicker would be monitored until death… or betrayal.
Tao Yiming's blood sizzled in the flame, green-tinged smoke coiling like a spiteful serpent. Meng Yue's burned violet, reeking of wilted roses. When Zhang Yan's blood hit the flame, it burned black as tar, devouring the light which then vanished into the lantern, the elder's mask tilted fractionally.
The gaze of the Elder lingered upon the lantern for a moment before leaving, his words echoing in the air...
"The Faction Leaders have summoned you..."
The elder vanished, leaving the survivors in dawn's fragile light. Tao Yiming turned to Meng Yue, his ghastly pupils slitted. "This isn't over."
She wiped the blood from her nose, her gaze sliding to Zhang Yan, who stood apart, his shadow stretching too long, too hungry, in the morning sun. "No," she said softly. "It's just beginning."
The disciples dispersed, clutching their new robes. Zhang Yan lingered, staring at the spot where the Soul Lantern had burned. Binding his essence should have felt like a chain. Instead, it felt like a challenge.
Let them watch. Let them see what he would become.
Somewhere in the forest, a crow cawed. The hunt was paused, not ended.