The Blood Serpent leader sneered, one hand lazily resting on the shaft of his glaive, the other brushing across the edge as if it were already wet with blood."Let's see if Azure Dragon pups can bite."
The words cracked the silence like flint against steel. Then steel itself flashed. Mist split. The clash began.
The Serpents pressed hard—higher realms, venomous qi seething from their strikes, killing intent sharpened into needles that pierced the air. Yet Haotian and Lianhua did not flinch. They moved as one.
Lianhua's Cloud-Sundering Steps blurred across the ground, every motion dissolving the choking mist beneath her feet. Her blade danced with the perfected Voidpiercer Sutra, each thrust and arc cutting through not just flesh, but the poison that sought to suffocate them.Haotian's Fenglong Spear answered in flawless circles, thrusts refined under the golden precision of the Eyes of the Universe. The weapon's shaft whistled with force, the blade carving spirals of pressure that bent the mist away.
A slash—blood sprayed.A thrust—armor split.One Serpent collapsed. Then another. A third, his scream drowned in the clash of qi and steel.
But the wider field faltered. Wen Qingyao's footing broke, blade rattling in retreat. Su Ming's guard shattered, a spear tearing open his shoulder. Duan Jian staggered, crimson painting his robes.
Haotian caught Lianhua's gaze through the haze. One nod. They split.
His spear tore through the chest of the Serpent bearing down on Su Ming, golden light ripping venom qi to tatters. At the same instant, Lianhua slipped through mist behind Zhao Yunfei's shoulder, her sword a streak of cold light as another enemy fell gurgling.
Momentum shifted. For the first time, the Serpents buckled.
Then—
FWOOSH.
A flare screamed skyward, its shriek echoing across the Abyss. Red light unfurled, coiling into the shape of a serpent above the mist, its scales glowing with the promise of reinforcements.
The disciples froze. Wen Qingyao's face drained of all color."They've called reinforcements…"
Haotian tore his spear free of the last foe, dark qi dripping from the blade like venom. He exhaled, voice cutting through the silence like cold iron."What now? Do we return… or run deeper?"
The answer came on heavy footsteps.
From the gate, eleven more Blood Serpent disciples emerged. Their auras crashed against the mist—denser, sharper, each step deliberate. They fanned out, surrounding the Abyss's threshold, the air thickening beneath their killing intent.
Su Ming spat a curse through clenched teeth. "Eleven… We can't take that many."
Haotian's eyes burned gold, light flaring like fire caught in stormwind. His voice rang, leaving no room for doubt."No choice. Run. Inside."
The team turned as one, plunging into the Abyss. Mist swallowed their figures whole. Whispers clawed at their ears, the air alive with echoes of voices not their own. Behind them, pursuit closed in fast, venom qi lashing through the fog.
Haotian's grip tightened around the Fenglong Spear, his pulse steady, his aura unbroken.If we can't hold the edge… then we'll carve our place in the depths.
Mist clawed at their lungs as the disciples sprinted deeper into the Abyss, every step swallowed by shifting shadows. Behind them, the Blood Serpent Sect disciples thundered in pursuit, venom qi hissing like a tide of knives.
But even in retreat, Haotian's eyes never stopped scanning. When his foot brushed against a fallen corpse, he pivoted sharply, Fenglong Spear lashing once more to sever an enemy's spine. Without breaking stride, he caught the body with one hand and flicked it into his spatial ring. Another corpse, then another—his movements sharp, deliberate.
Lianhua caught the glimmer of gold in his eyes."You're keeping their bodies?" she whispered as she dashed at his side.
Haotian's voice was cold steel in the mist."In the worst case, they'll serve one last purpose."
No one pressed further. The Abyss didn't allow for hesitation.
Their path narrowed into a jagged ravine. Suddenly, the mist shifted—two glowing pairs of eyes snapped open ahead. Then four. Then dozens. Abyssal beasts uncoiled from the darkness, their forms twisted mockeries of wolves and scaled serpents, jaws drooling black ichor that hissed when it touched stone.
"Blockage—kill them quickly!" Haotian barked.
The group surged forward. Steel rang. Blades bit. Wen Qingyao's saber ripped through a beast's throat, its scream shrill and wet. Lianhua danced across shifting stone, her Voidpiercer Sutra driving straight into a monster's skull, her movements precise and merciless. Haotian's spear roared arcs of golden light, each thrust detonating with controlled fury.
But behind them, the Blood Serpent Sect disciples crashed into the horde as well. Venom qi clashed against abyssal ichor, shrieks echoing in the fog. The pursuit faltered—the hunters now ensnared by the very predators of the Abyss.
"Move!" Haotian shouted. "Don't slow down!"
They cut their way through the last beasts faster than their pursuers, bursting into another corridor of shifting stone and mist. But the reprieve was brief. The ground trembled as their path opened onto a massive gorge.
Haotian skidded to a halt, golden fire flashing across his pupils as the Eyes of the Universe ignited. His gaze pierced through fog, tearing veils of illusion. His breath sharpened, voice low but commanding."Stop. Don't move another step."
The disciples froze, their momentum snapping into silence. Confusion flared across their faces until Lin Yue's trembling hands pulled a crystal from her robes. Light rippled outward, forming a map in the air—her lips pressed pale.
"He's right…" she whispered. "The gorge is… covered."
Hundreds of red dots pulsed across the map, clustered like blood spreading in water. Every dot a beast. Every one waiting for prey.
Wen Qingyao cursed under his breath, face draining of color."That's a death sentence."
Haotian didn't waste time. His eyes burned, scanning the mist for any deviation. There—barely visible, a narrow ledge cutting into the cliffside."This way. Follow me."
Without hesitation, he leapt. His boots struck stone with barely a sound, body flowing into the shadows of a narrow overcast ledge tucked beneath jagged rock. One by one, the other disciples followed—Lianhua last, her blade still shimmering faintly as she slipped under the cover.
The moment they landed, Haotian's fingers blurred through seals. Arrays snapped into life, golden runes etching themselves into stone with crackling light. One, two, three, four, five layers—the formation sealed around them, cloaking their presence beneath veils of silence and shadow.
The group pressed against the rock, chests heaving, hands clutching weapons slick with blood. Then—
Footsteps.
Dozens of them. Rushing, heavy, venom qi trailing like smoke.
A voice shouted through the mist."They went this way!"
The footsteps grew louder. Then the air shook as figures leapt down from the cliff above—twenty-six in total, landing in heavy thuds that cracked stone.
Some surged forward, continuing the chase into the fog. Others paused, heads turning toward the overcast ledge. Their eyes swept the shadows, venom qi curling, sharp enough to sting the skin of the hidden disciples.
Every Azure Dragon Sect disciple froze, lungs burning as they forced their breathing still. Fingers whitened against hilts and spearshafts.
The Blood Serpent Sect disciples stared. One narrowed his eyes. Another tilted his head, listening.
The silence stretched until it howled.
Then—
They turned. Without a word, they surged forward again, swallowed into mist.
Inside the array, every chest deflated in unison. A flood of relief, hushed but trembling, rolled through the disciples. Su Ming wiped cold sweat from his brow. Wen Qingyao pressed his back against the stone, his saber rattling against the ground.
At last, the pressure broke. The sound of footsteps faded, swallowed into the distance. Haotian and the others exhaled in silence, shoulders slumping as the weight of pursuit lifted, if only for a moment.
Lianhua lowered herself beside Haotian, the mist curling faintly around her robes as she sat close enough to feel the heat radiating from his spear. Her gaze, steady even after blood and chaos, lingered on him."What now? We can't fight them all… we're too outnumbered."
Haotian didn't answer immediately. His eyes, gold flecked and sharp, glowed faintly in the dim abyssal light as his mind raced. His fingers tapped the haft of the Fenglong Spear in thought, rhythm steady, unhurried.
Then, suddenly, he smiled.
The faint curve startled Lianhua—gentle, almost mischievous against the harsh gloom. The others caught it too, shifting uneasily.
Finally, Haotian's voice broke the stillness."I've already figured out a way to escape this place. But it will require our full cooperation."
The other disciples leaned closer, some wide-eyed, others clutching their wounds. Wen Qingyao spoke first, tone urgent."Tell us."
Without hesitation, Haotian flicked his wrist. A ripple of spatial qi surged—and the corpses of the Blood Serpent Sect disciples he had gathered earlier spilled into the formation. Their broken forms lay twisted in silence, blood still clinging to robes of dark crimson and serpent insignias.
A gasp rolled through the group. Lin Yue pressed a hand to her mouth. Su Ming's eyes narrowed in confusion.
"You… kept their bodies?"
Haotian nodded, voice even."Not for trophies. For survival. We'll dress ourselves in their robes. Assume their faces. Their numbers are great, but their disciples are spread and scattered. We slip into their ranks when they least expect it."
His smile deepened, sharper now."And when the moment comes… we either walk out with them unnoticed—or kill them all. One group at a time. The element of surprise is ours."
The words hung heavy, daring, impossible to ignore. A spark of hope flickered in the weary eyes around him. But just as quickly, doubt surfaced.
Lin Yue's voice cracked the silence."But… their sect is mostly men. If a female appears among them, wouldn't that give us away instantly?"
The disciples looked to Lianhua, unease stirring again.
Haotian's gaze flickered to her for the briefest moment, then back to the group. His tone remained calm, unshaken."That is fine. A simple adjustment."
His spear lowered to the ground, point anchoring into stone. His eyes burned gold again, his presence sharp enough to cut through their doubt."I will go first. I'll dwindle their numbers while they remain unaware. One cluster at a time. Meanwhile, the rest of you will stay here within this formation. It will hold."
The disciples glanced at the glowing array walls around them. Intricate golden lines pulsed in rhythm, each layer interwoven with the next.
Haotian gestured to the patterns as he spoke, his confidence absolute."The chi-gathering formation at the core fuels the other four continuously. The concealing and soundless arrays will hide you from even a Saint Realm's sight or hearing. The defensive wall can withstand prolonged siege, and the killing array will shred anyone foolish enough to force their way in."
His voice dropped, iron beneath the calm."Stay here. Recover. Trust me. I'll return."
Silence fell. None dared challenge him—not when his aura burned like fire in the mist, not when his words carried such finality.
The disciples exchanged glances. One by one, they nodded. Even those trembling with fear straightened their backs, clinging to the authority in his voice.
Lianhua's eyes lingered on him, softer than the rest. Her lips parted as though to speak, but she closed them again, holding her words. For now, trust was all she could offer.
The formation's golden runes pulsed faintly against the stone, casting the disciples in a cocoon of silence. Haotian stood at its edge, the Fenglong Spear angled across his back, his golden eyes dimming into calm focus.
He glanced once at Lianhua. She nodded without a word.
Then he stepped through the barrier.
The mist outside felt heavier—charged with venom qi and the whispers of unseen predators. The silence he left behind was replaced by the low hum of danger, a pressure that pressed against the skin like wet cloth. Yet his stride never faltered.
Haotian flicked his wrist. From the spatial ring, one of the Blood Serpent Sect disciples' bodies appeared. With practiced precision, he stripped the corpse of its crimson robes and serpent-etched armor. A faint crackle of qi manipulation followed as his own aura suppressed, twisted, and reshaped—his presence bending until it bled into something foreign, venomous.
He slipped the blood-soaked garb over his shoulders. The serpent insignia glimmered dully in the fog. In the shifting light, Haotian no longer resembled himself. He was one of them.
"Let's begin." His voice was a whisper, cold enough to vanish into mist.
He moved quickly, his body vanishing into the veil of the Abyss.
Moments later, the glow of torches pierced the fog. A patrol of Blood Serpent Sect disciples—six of them—advanced along the ravine path, blades already slick with ichor from beasts they had slain. Their laughter was low and cruel, echoing unnaturally in the shifting stone walls.
"Damn beasts. At least the Abyss feeds us prey," one muttered."Keep sharp," another snapped. "The Azure Dragon whelps are still in here somewhere."
Haotian stepped from the mist as though he belonged. His robes marked him as one of their own, his face shadowed. The patrol stiffened for a moment, then eased, one raising a hand.
"You came from the west flank? Report."
Haotian inclined his head, voice low, perfectly even."They're scattering in the deeper corridors. But a few stragglers remain…"
Then he moved.
The Fenglong Spear snapped free from his back with a hiss of displaced air. One thrust—so fast it blurred—pierced through the speaker's chest, ripping out through his spine with a burst of golden light muffled in mist. Before the others could react, Haotian's body twisted, the spear carving a blazing arc that split two more disciples from hip to shoulder.
The survivors shouted, qi flaring. Their venomous techniques hissed through the fog—blades crackling with black light, poison surging like liquid smoke. But Haotian's eyes flashed gold, the Eyes of the Universe revealing every weak point, every flaw in their stances.
He vanished between their strikes, Cloud-Sundering Steps bending his body just out of reach. His spear stabbed once, twice, thrice—each thrust landing with surgical precision. One disciple's throat burst open. Another's ribs shattered inward. The last tried to flee, but Haotian's spear pinned him through the back, impaling him against stone.
The fight was over in breaths.
The last Serpent disciple slumped against the stone, the spear's blade withdrawing in silence. His body collapsed limply to the ground, blood spreading in black streams across the rock before mist drank it away.
Haotian stood over them, expression unreadable. His golden eyes dimmed, gaze sharp but calm. There was no triumph—only necessity.
He knelt first beside the corpses, hands swift, unflinching. One by one, he stripped them of their spatial rings, jade slips, talismans, spirit pills, and weapons. Every trinket and treasure vanished into his own ring, catalogued with mechanical precision. He even took time to test the integrity of each storage item, ensuring none carried tracking marks.
Their bodies lay bare now, crimson robes loose and lifeless. For a moment, Haotian's shadow stretched long in the mist, his aura sealed tight. Then he raised his hand.
A faint glow rippled across his palm—soft at first, then swelling into a roaring, searing flame. It was no ordinary fire. It was the extreme yang fire he had tempered within his body, a blaze that devoured not just flesh, but qi and essence itself.
With a flick of his wrist, the flame cascaded over the corpses.
FWOOSH—!
The Abyss lit for an instant, orange and gold burning away the endless gray. The disciples' bodies screamed as bones cracked, marrow vaporized, venom qi shrieked before it was unmade. In breaths, flesh curled into ash, robes dissolved into sparks. The smell of charred corruption filled the air, swallowed as quickly as it came.
When the fire faded, nothing remained but black dust swept into mist. No trail. No corpses. No evidence of the ambush.
Haotian exhaled once, the faintest plume of steam leaving his lips as he drew his yang fire back into his veins. His hand closed around the Fenglong Spear, the weapon's edge glinting faintly with residual heat.
The ground was clean. The air smelled only of damp stone again.
Haotian straightened, his robe falling still against his frame. His disguise remained flawless—an unremarkable Blood Serpent disciple blending with the fog.
He cast one last glance at the ashes scattered across the rocks."Nothing left for them to find."
Then he stepped back into the mist.
The Abyss swallowed him whole, and the hunt continued.
Haotian moved like a phantom through the Abyss, each step erased by Cloud-Sundering Steps. His presence bent, his breath hidden—mist parted around him as though the shadows themselves welcomed his passage.
The stolen robes clung to him, serpent insignia faint beneath the gloom. To any eye, he was just another Blood Serpent disciple prowling the fog. But beneath the facade, his golden pupils burned, the Eyes of the Universe scanning ceaselessly.
Then—he froze.
A pulse of qi flickered ahead, venomous and sharp. Not one… several. His vision pierced the mist. A squad of eight Blood Serpent Sect disciples stalked along a ridge, their formation loose but predatory. One carried a torch that hissed with poison flames, casting crooked shadows across the jagged rocks.
Haotian sank into silence, waiting. His fingers brushed the haft of his spear. His breathing slowed until it could no longer be heard.
The patrol drew closer.
"…Any sign?" one asked, voice thick with arrogance."Not yet. But the Azure Dragon dogs can't hide forever." Another spat onto the rocks, venom qi sizzling where it landed. "We'll drag them out soon enough."
Closer.
Another disciple glanced back, scowling."Keep formation. Don't scatter. If they're here, they'll strike when we least expect—"
His words cut short.
In that instant, Haotian struck.
The Fenglong Spear flashed like lightning in mist—one clean thrust through the speaker's throat, silencing him before the warning left his lips. Blood sprayed in a fine arc before vanishing into shadow.
Gasps, shouts, qi flaring. The patrol erupted into chaos.
"Enemy!" one roared.
But the enemy was already among them. Haotian twisted, spear sweeping in a blinding arc. Two more disciples fell in one strike, their torsos cleaved apart, black ichor pouring as their bodies crumpled.
The survivors retaliated. Venomous qi surged in the form of fangs and serpentine whips, their blades dripping with poison light. But Haotian's golden eyes caught every flaw. He sidestepped, steps whispering across stone. His spear darted like a serpent itself, striking gaps in armor, puncturing meridians, severing breath.
One disciple lunged with a blade, poison trailing a streak through the air—only for Haotian to vanish from his line of sight. In the same heartbeat, the spear drove clean through his chest from behind. The disciple's eyes widened, then dimmed as his body slid to the ground.
The fight ended as swiftly as it began. Ashen silence returned.
Eight bodies sprawled across the ridge. Haotian wasted no breath. He stripped them as before—spatial rings, treasures, talismans, weapons. Every gain tucked into his storage with swift efficiency.
Then, his palm ignited once more.
The extreme yang fire roared to life, brighter this time, licking greedily at flesh and qi. The corpses dissolved into cinders, their screams muted by the Abyss. Stone cracked beneath the heat, then cooled into silence as the flames died.
All that remained was ash carried away on the mist.
Haotian adjusted his stolen robes, checking for stains. The serpent insignia glimmered faintly, unbroken. His disguise still held.
He raised his spear, eyes narrowing at the faint echoes of movement deeper in the fog.
"One patrol at a time," he murmured.
And then he moved again, swallowed by shadow.
The Abyss stirred with whispers and distant roars. Haotian pressed deeper, each step vanishing into the endless gray. Behind him, no corpses remained—only ashes scattered to mist. Yet ahead, the pulse of venomous qi thickened.
He slowed.
Through the Eyes of the Universe, faint silhouettes resolved in the haze. Not six. Not eight. At least twenty disciples marched together in a loose column, their crimson robes shifting like a river of blood across the jagged ground. Torches hissed with poison flames, their glow warping against the mist.
They moved with purpose, scanning the shadows, blades unsheathed. This was no stray patrol. It was a hunting unit.
Haotian's eyes narrowed. The risk was greater here—more eyes, more suspicion. But so was the reward. If he could carve through them, the Serpent Sect would bleed more than they realized.
He pulled his stolen hood lower, dimming his golden glow. His qi bent, venomous, his aura tuned to mimic theirs. He adjusted his stride, his breathing, even the tilt of his weapon, until he was nothing more than another predator stalking the Abyss.
Then, with practiced calm, he stepped into line.
The mist did the rest. To the disciples, he was simply one of their own who had drifted from the flank. A few glanced his way—hard eyes, suspicion thin as blades. But one nodded faintly, accepting his presence.
Haotian matched their pace, his hand steady on the spear.
The leader, a tall man with serpent-scale armor strapped across his chest, barked over his shoulder."Stay sharp. They'll surface. They always do."
The squad murmured agreement, eyes darting. Haotian lowered his gaze, expression unreadable. Beneath his calm, the spear trembled faintly with suppressed hunger.
They marched together for what felt like minutes, the silence broken only by the crunch of boots and the hiss of torches. Tension thickened. Even the Abyss seemed to hold its breath.
Then—
One disciple at the rear frowned. His eyes flicked toward Haotian. "You. Which flank were you with?"
Haotian's head turned slowly, his hood shadowing his face. For a moment, the mist clung tighter, his golden eyes flickering faint beneath the shroud.
"The one that didn't return." His voice was low, carrying a weight the others couldn't place.
The disciple blinked, confusion slipping into unease. But before he could speak—Haotian moved.
The Fenglong Spear tore free in a blur of golden arcs. One thrust split the man's chest, detonating qi and bone in a muffled roar. The patrol froze in shock, then erupted in shouts.
"Enemy—!"
The words barely left their mouths before Haotian unleashed chaos.
He surged through their ranks like a storm, spear spinning in sweeping arcs. One disciple's head burst beneath a crushing strike, another split in half by a lightning-fast thrust. Venom qi lashed out in panic, blades and poison light crisscrossing the mist—but Haotian flowed between them, steps silent, every strike guided by the piercing clarity of the Eyes of the Universe.
The squad leader roared, serpent qi exploding into a scaled whip that lashed through the fog. Haotian twisted, the whip slicing past his shoulder. He darted forward, the spear piercing through the man's plated chest, shattering armor as yang fire flared along the blade. The leader's scream tore through the gorge before his body ignited, bursting into ash.
The squad broke, formation collapsing. Some tried to scatter. Others fought blindly, slashing at mist. It didn't matter. Haotian's movements were relentless, precise—death woven into every step. His spear became a storm of golden strikes, each blow fatal, each thrust erasing another presence.
Moments later, silence returned.
The ridge was painted in black ichor, bodies strewn like broken dolls.
Haotian stood among them, his robes drenched in crimson light that was not his own. He inhaled once, steady, then exhaled. His hands moved swiftly, stripping rings, treasures, talismans. Every body was emptied of its worth before his palm ignited once more.
The extreme yang fire roared, consuming the remains in a furnace of golden flame. Flesh, qi, and poison shrieked as they burned away, leaving only drifting ash.
Haotian turned, his disguise still intact. But this time, there was no mistaking the fire in his eyes.
"One squad at a time," he whispered again, voice colder than before."They'll never know when the knife is already in their ranks."
And with that, he vanished once more into the mist—where the next hunt awaited.