The cold night air hung still over the Black Lotus Sect, as if the heavens themselves held their breath.
Inside the inner sanctum, Mu Qinglan knelt before Jin Xiao, her head bowed, her body still trembling—not from fear, not from hesitation, but from the weight of realization.
She had thought herself strong. Thought she had power, control.
But Jin Xiao had shattered that illusion with a whisper.
Now, she knelt before him not as a disciple of the Black Lotus Sect—but as his tool.
And she would prove her worth.
Jin Xiao's voice was calm, almost gentle. "Your sect is a nest of parasites. It must be purged."
Mu Qinglan exhaled, steadying herself. "I understand."
Jin Xiao's smirk widened. "Then let us begin."
Unleashing the Betrayal
Mu Qinglan walked through the sect's training grounds, her movements unnaturally smooth, her face devoid of the warmth it once held.
Disciples greeted her with familiarity, utterly unaware of what was coming.
"Senior Sister, are you going on a mission?" one asked, his youthful face full of admiration.
Mu Qinglan smiled. "Something like that."
He smiled back, trusting.
She kept walking.
She passed by the elders' hall, where candlelight flickered behind thick doors. Soon.
Finally, she reached the sect's main formation chamber—the heart of their defenses, the great mechanism that had kept them untouchable for centuries.
Bai Ling was already inside, leaning against the cold stone, her arms folded. She cocked her head. "Do you feel it? The weight of what you're about to do?"
Mu Qinglan exhaled slowly. "No. I only feel purpose."
Bai Ling chuckled. "Good girl."
The massive spiritual formation pulsed before them, a grand barrier woven with the life energy of countless generations of sect leaders. A symbol of their power. Their arrogance.
Mu Qinglan stepped forward, placing her hand on the formation core.
The elders had taught her this technique. They had trusted her.
And now, she would use their own teachings to destroy them.
Dark energy coiled from her fingertips, slithering into the ancient mechanism like poison in the veins of a dying man.
A tremor ran through the ground.
The formation shuddered.
The sky above the sect darkened.
Then—crack.
A splinter formed in the air, jagged and unnatural. It spread like a disease, fractures splitting apart the heavens.
Then, with a deafening shatter, the great barrier—centuries in the making—collapsed.
The Slaughter Begins
Screams erupted from all corners of the sect.
Disciples looked up in confusion as dozens of masked figures poured in from the shadows—assassins, demons in human skin, the hidden blades of Jin Xiao.
Steel met flesh.
The first head hit the ground with a wet thud.
The second was torn from its body before the first even stopped rolling.
A young disciple—a boy no older than fifteen—stumbled back, his blade trembling in his hands. "W-what's happening—?"
A dagger plunged into his throat. He gurgled, clawing at the weapon embedded in his flesh before he collapsed, choking on his own blood.
The elders rushed from their halls, their robes still disheveled from meditation, their expressions twisted in disbelief.
"WHO DARES?!"
A thunderous voice boomed through the sky as the Sect Master himself, Elder Zhou, descended, his aura tearing through the air like a storm.
His piercing gaze locked onto Mu Qinglan, who stood calmly by the shattered formation core.
His eyes widened.
"You…" His voice shook, thick with betrayal. "You did this?"
Mu Qinglan raised her head. "Yes, Master."
For the first time, she saw it—true fear in his eyes.
She vanished from sight—then reappeared behind him, her hand glowing with cold, merciless energy.
The strike landed before he could react.
A sickening crack echoed as his spine snapped.
The once-proud sect master collapsed, his limbs twitching, his breath shuddering as blood dribbled from his lips. His body refused to move, paralyzed from the waist down.
Mu Qinglan stood over him, her voice devoid of emotion.
"You raised me like a weapon."
She knelt beside him, her fingers pressing against his chest.
"Now, I fulfill my purpose."
Her hand plunged into his body.
Flesh tore. Ribs cracked. Blood sprayed.
Elder Zhou screamed—a raw, animalistic wail—as Mu Qinglan's fingers closed around his cultivation core.
His body convulsed.
His hands clawed weakly at her wrist, his face contorted in agony. "No… no… please…!"
She ripped it from his chest.
A final, wet gasp.
Then—silence.
The Black Lotus Sect Master was dead.
Mu Qinglan rose, holding the glowing core in her bloodied hands.
She squeezed.
The core shattered.
A wave of dark energy burst from her palm, consuming the last remnants of the man who had once called himself her master.
Bai Ling laughed. "Perfect."
Jin Xiao Watches the Flames Rise
From a distant hill, Jin Xiao sat comfortably, sipping tea, his gaze fixed on the inferno.
The screams carried through the night like music.
His lips curled into a smirk. "Another one falls."
Mu Qinglan had proven herself.
Her first betrayal.
Her first slaughter.
Her first true step into the abyss.
And she had done it without hesitation.
Jin Xiao closed his eyes, feeling the energy surge toward him. With every sect that fell, his power only grew.
The night air filled with smoke, blood, and agony.
It was only the beginning.