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Chapter 99 - Crippling Tang San’s Clear Sky Hammer

Zhang Tian stood in the shadows of the Shrek Academy, a silent, unseen predator in a forest of his own making. Beside him, a figure of equally silent, and far more personal, menace shimmered into view. Ah Yin.

 

"Alright, my Empress," he murmured, his voice a low, casual sound that was for her ears alone. "I'm going to go have my little 'chat' with that woman. You should stay here. If you're feeling bored," he added, a dark, playful glint in his eyes, "feel free to go and mess with that imposter son of yours. Just… be subtle. Don't let your presence be known."

 

A slow, beautiful, and incredibly cruel smile spread across Ah Yin's perfect lips. Her crimson eyes, which had been a mask of calm, demure respect just hours before, were now burning with a cold, maternal fury.

 

"Oh, I will be very subtle," she purred, her voice a promise of a slow, and very painful, torment to come. "And I will have a great deal of fun. Thank you, my love."

 

He just chuckled, a low, dark sound. He gave her a final, lingering look and then, with a silence that was a testament to his profound control, he melted away, a ghost moving towards the quiet, secluded wooden cabin by the edge of the lake.

 

He reached the cabin, a simple, rustic structure that seemed to radiate a palpable aura of loneliness and a deep, profound despair. The door was locked. A trivial obstacle.

 

He raised a hand, and a single, impossibly thin and fine needle of crimson Blood Silver Grass extended from his fingertip. It snaked through the keyhole, a silent, living lockpick. A moment later, with a soft, almost inaudible click, the lock turned.

 

He pushed the door open, the soft creak of the old, wooden hinges a loud, jarring sound in the quiet afternoon.

 

The sound was enough.

 

He heard a sharp, sudden movement from one of the back rooms. A moment later, she appeared.

 

Liu Erlong emerged from her personal chamber, her beautiful face a mask of startled, wary confusion. She saw him standing in her doorway, and her expression froze, her fiery eyes widening with a mixture of shock, rage, and a deep, underlying fear.

 

Zhang Tian just stood there, a lazy, amused smile on his handsome face. His gaze, an open, blatant, and utterly, completely, and shamelessly possessive thing, swept over her. She was wearing a simple, practical set of training clothes, her fiery red hair tied back in a messy, functional ponytail. But even in her simple, unadorned state, her magnificent, powerful, and voluptuous body was a breathtaking sight.

 

His gaze lingered for a moment too long on the heavy, dark metal chains that were still shackled around her wrists.

 

"Good girl," he purred, his voice a low, condescending sound that made her want to scream. "You followed my instructions perfectly. You have been wearing the chains every morning, for the entire week."

 

He walked into the cabin, his movements a fluid, confident dance of a predator entering its den. He closed the door behind him with a soft, final thump.

 

"For your obedience," he continued, his voice a lazy, offhand sound, as if he were bestowing a great, magnanimous gift upon a particularly well-behaved pet, "I have decided to reward you. Instead of three pills this week, I will give you four. Two of those Heavenly Water Pills you so desperately desire. And two of the Stormbolt Spirit Pills. A gift, for your good behavior."

 

His words, which should have been a cause for joyous celebration, were instead a series of sharp, humiliating slaps to her face. They were not a reward. They were a brand. A proof of her depravity, of her submission, of the disgusting, secret deal she had made with this arrogant, perverted monster.

 

She gritted her teeth, the sound a soft, grinding noise in the quiet room. "What do you want?" she snarled, her voice a low, tight sound, each word a carefully controlled effort to keep from screaming. "Let's just get this over with."

 

He just chuckled, a low, dark sound. "So fiery," he said, his tone one of amused, condescending pity. "You should learn to be more patient, Vice-Dean. The nature of your… service… depends entirely on my mood."

 

He began to pace the small, rustic living room, his gaze sweeping over her magnificent, powerful form as if he were a customer browsing the goods in a high-end brothel.

 

"Hmm," he mused, his voice a low, thoughtful murmur. "Last time, I enjoyed your magnificent tits. And your pretty little mouth. So, this time… I am thinking of something different. Perhaps I will have you dance for me. A slow, seductive, naked dance. And I will play with your tits, and that magnificent, curvaceous ass of yours with my hands. And then, yes, I think I will still have you use that mouth of yours for my dick. There are… so many options."

 

That was it. The final, humiliating straw.

 

"YOU DESPICABLE BASTARD!" she shrieked, her voice a raw, wounded sound of pure, unadulterated rage. "You think you can just march in here and treat me like your personal whore?! You are a monster! A disgusting, arrogant, and utterly, completely, and irredeemably perverted pig!"

 

He just smiled. A calm, almost gentle expression that was somehow more infuriating than any shout.

 

"My dear Vice-Dean," he said, his voice a tone of perfect, unassailable reason, "I have told you before. This is not a matter of emotion. It is a transaction. A trade. I am selling you a priceless, world-shaking treasure. And you are paying for it with the only thing you possess that is of any value to me. Your service."

 

He looked at her, and his eyes were as cold and as hard as a winter morning. "If you do not wish to provide that service," he said, his voice a flat, empty sound, "then you are free to cancel the deal. It is not as if I am begging you to take these pills from me."

 

Her rage, her pride, her fierce, unyielding spirit… it all just boiled over.

 

"Then go!" she screamed, her voice a raw, ragged sound of pure, emotional agony. "Get out of my house! The deal is off! I would rather die than let you touch me again!"

 

Her outburst, her final, defiant act of rebellion, seemed to genuinely, truly, surprise him. He looked at her, at the tears of rage and humiliation streaming down her beautiful face, and for a moment, a flicker of something, a hint of a genuine, profound surprise, entered his eyes.

 

He just nodded. A single, curt, and utterly, completely, and terrifyingly final gesture.

 

And then, without another word, he turned. And he left.

 

He walked out of the wooden cabin, leaving her alone in the sudden, profound, and utterly, completely, and devastatingly silent aftermath of her own, pyrrhic victory.

 

She stood there, her body trembling, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Her rage, which had been a raging, all-consuming inferno, slowly began to fade, replaced by a cold, hard, and deeply, profoundly, and utterly, completely, and terrifyingly empty feeling in the pit of her stomach.

 

'What… what have I done?' the thought was a small, terrified whisper in the silence of her mind.

 

She thought of Xiaogang. Of the hopeful, excited light in his eyes. Of the way he had looked at her, at the pills, as if she were a bringer of miracles.

 

And now… now she had to go back to him. She had to look him in the eye. And she had to tell him that it was over. That she had failed.

 

'No,' she thought, her mind scrambling, searching for a way out, for a lie that could soften the blow. 'I… I can tell him that Zhang Tian demanded an outrageous price. Something the academy could not possibly pay. Yes. That's it. Xiaogang will understand, won't he? He has to. After all… he promised me. He promised he would try to accept me.'

 

The thought was a small, fragile, and utterly, completely, and devastatingly pathetic lifeline in a sea of her own, self-inflicted despair.

 

Meanwhile, on the main training field of the Shrek Academy, a different, more subtle kind of torment was taking place.

 

Ah Yin was a ghost. A beautiful, silent, and utterly, completely, and terrifyingly invisible predator. Her Blood Silver Domain's camouflage ability was a perfect, seamless cloak, bending the very light and sound around her, making her an undetectable presence.

 

She watched the sparring match from the shadows of a large, ancient tree.

 

She saw the imposter. The creature that wore her son's face. He was in the middle of an intense, high-level spar with a powerful, middle-aged man with a brutish, Vigorous Ape Martial Spirit. It was Tai Nuo, the father of the boy who had once foolishly challenged Tang San.

 

The imposter was good. She had to admit that. He was using his Blue Silver Grass with a skill, a precision, that was impressive. And his use of those strange, deadly hidden weapons was a thing of terrifying, beautiful artistry.

 

But he was not her son.

 

A cold, maternal fury, a feeling she had not felt in a thousand years, welled up inside her.

 

'This creature,' she thought, her crimson eyes narrowing into two dangerous slits, 'is using my son's body as though he owns it and also the Blue Silver Grass that he had inherited from me.'

 

She looked at the golden veins that pulsed on the imposter's Blue Silver Grass, the faint, residual echo of her own, true, Imperial bloodline.

 

'That,' she thought, her voice a silent, possessive hiss, 'belongs to me. It is time I took it back.'

 

She raised a hand and activated one of her Spirit Ring abilities, and a cloud of invisible, undetectable, and utterly, completely, and terrifyingly potent Parasitic Spores drifted from her fingertips. They floated on the gentle afternoon breeze, a silent, deadly promise that settled, unnoticed, on the imposter's skin, on his clothes, on his very spirit.

 

He did not feel a thing.

 

She then activated another spirit ring ability, a secret, terrifying power of her Blood Silver Empress spirit.

 

'Devour.'

 

The spores came alive. They were not a poison. They were a key. A conduit. They did not attack his body. They attacked his spirit. They targeted the single, beautiful, and utterly, completely, and the half of her Imperial blood that flowed through his Blue Silver Grass.

 

And they began to drain it.

 

Tang San, in the middle of the fight, suddenly frowned. He felt… strange. A sudden, inexplicable wave of weakness washed over him. He looked down at the Blue Silver Grass vines that were currently locked in a struggle with Tai Nuo's powerful, ape-like arms.

 

And he saw it.

 

The beautiful, golden veins that had been a part of his spirit for as long as he could remember… they were dimming. Fading.

 

And then, in a single, heart-stopping instant, they were gone.

 

His Blue Silver Grass, which had once been a thing of beautiful, Imperial power, was now just… blue. A common, unremarkable, and utterly, completely, and terrifyingly weak blue.

 

The change was instantaneous. The strength, the tenacity, the range, the recovery, the vitality, the durability… it all just plummeted.

 

He was so shocked, so utterly, completely, and profoundly confused by the sudden, inexplicable weakening of his own spirit, that he was a half-second too slow to react.

 

Tai Nuo, feeling the resistance of the vines suddenly give way, roared in triumph and surged forward. His massive, ape-like fist, which had been intended as a simple, non-lethal sparring blow, slammed into Tang San's chest.

 

Tang San was sent flying backwards as if he had been hit by a battering ram. He crashed into a nearby wall, the impact a sickening, bone-jarring crunch. He slid to the ground, a broken, crumpled heap, and a mouthful of hot, metallic blood sprayed from his lips. His ribs were broken. He was heavily injured.

 

From the shadows of the ancient tree, a soft, happy, and utterly, completely, and terrifyingly delighted squeal of pure, maternal joy escaped Ah Yin's lips.

 

It was at that exact moment that a pair of strong, familiar arms wrapped around her from behind.

 

"Why are you squealing so happily, my Empress?" a low, amused voice purred in her ear. "What happened?"

 

Zhang Tian had returned.

 

He looked past her, at the crumpled, bleeding form of Tang San, at the shocked, horrified faces of the other students and teachers who were now rushing to his side.

 

He saw the faint, residual traces of her spirit power, and he understood instantly.

 

A slow, proud, and incredibly satisfied smile spread across his face. He pulled her closer, his erect dick brushing against her magnificent, curvaceous buttocks.

 

He leaned in and gave her a long, slow, and incredibly passionate love bite on her neck.

 

"Good girl," he growled, his voice a low, appreciative rumble as his hands found her magnificent, heavy breasts.

 

The raw, possessive act, combined with the successful torment of the creature wearing her son's face, sent a jolt of pure, unadulterated bliss through Ah Yin. She moaned, a low, guttural sound of pure, carnal satisfaction, and arched her back, pressing herself more firmly against him.

 

He looked past her, at the scene of chaos on the training field, at the crumpled, bleeding form of the imposter, at the shocked, horrified faces of the other students and teachers who were now rushing to his side. A slow, cruel, and incredibly satisfied smile spread across his handsome face.

 

"That was a fine opening move, my Empress," he murmured, his voice a low, intimate sound meant only for her. "But it was just a simple physical wound. I have another method in mind. A way to bully him that is far more… profound."

 

He looked at her, and his blue eyes were gleaming with a dark, beautifully cruel light. "A method that will not just break his bones, but his spirit. A method that will make him, and that worthless theorist Yu Xiaogang, question the very foundations of their own pathetic lives."

 

Ah Yin's crimson eyes widened, a flicker of genuine, excited curiosity in their depths. The thought of inflicting an even deeper, more lasting pain on the creature that had stolen her son's body was a tantalizing, intoxicating prospect.

 

"Oh?" she purred, her voice a low, dangerous sound. "And how do you plan to do that, my love?"

 

He just chuckled, a low, dark sound that was a promise of a slow, and very painful, torment to come. "Patience, my Empress," he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. "We will wait. We will wait until he is alone, and weak, and helpless. We will wait until he is resting in the infirmary, recovering from his… unfortunate accident."

 

The wait was not a long one. The afternoon sun began its slow, lazy descent towards the horizon, painting the sky in shades of deep orange and soft violet. The Shrek Academy settled into a quiet, somber evening routine.

 

In the simple, clean, and now silent infirmary, Tang San lay on a cot, his chest tightly bound in bandages. The academy's new healer, the gentle-looking Jiang Zhu, had done her best. His broken ribs had been set, his internal injuries soothed with her gentle, healing spirit power. But the pain was still a deep, throbbing ache in his chest. And the confusion… the confusion was a far greater wound.

 

'My spirit…' he thought, his brow furrowed in a mixture of pain and a deep, profound bewilderment. 'What happened to my spirit? Why did it suddenly become so… weak?'

 

He had no answers. He was alone, his mind a swirling vortex of pain and a deep, unsettling fear.

 

And it was then that they came for him.

 

It started as a shadow. A flicker of movement at the edge of his vision, by the open window. He thought it was just a trick of the fading light.

 

And then, the shadows came alive.

 

Thin, crimson vines, as dark as dried blood, snaked through the open window, their movements silent, fluid, and impossibly, terrifyingly fast. They were like a nest of sentient, predatory serpents, their target clear, their intent absolute.

 

Before he could even cry out, before he could even think to summon his now-weakened spirit, the vines were on him. They wrapped around his arms, his legs, his chest, their grip as strong and as unyielding as forged steel.

 

He tried to struggle, but it was useless. He was a fly caught in a spider's web.

 

And then, he felt it.

 

A sudden, overwhelming, and utterly, completely, and soul-crushingly powerful wave of pure, concentrated mental force that slammed down on his own, much weaker, consciousness. It was not an attack. It was a statement of absolute, undeniable dominance. It was the feeling of a vast, deep ocean pressing down on a single, insignificant drop of water.

 

His struggling ceased. His thoughts, his fears, his very consciousness… it was all just snuffed out, like a candle in a hurricane. He fell back into a deep, profound, and utterly, completely, and terrifyingly bottomless abyss of unconsciousness.

 

The crimson vines tightened around his limp, unresponsive body. They then retracted, pulling him from the cot, from the infirmary, and out into the waiting, shadowy darkness of the twilight.

 

The outer regions of the Sunset Forest were a place of quiet, simple life. The spirit beasts here were not the powerful, terrifying monsters of the deeper woods. They were small, weak, and utterly, completely, and pathetically harmless.

 

In a dark, silent clearing, a new, far more terrifying kind of predator had made its den.

 

Zhang Tian laid the unconscious, vine-wrapped form of Tang San on the soft, mossy ground. He looked down at the pale, peaceful face of the boy who was his greatest rival, and a cold, cruel smile touched his lips.

 

"Now then," he murmured to himself. "We will need some… props for our little play."

 

Ah Yin, who had been standing beside him, a silent, beautiful shadow in the darkness, did not need to be told. She understood his plan instantly. A slow, predatory smile of her own spread across her beautiful face.

 

She moved.

 

She was not a gentle, graceful woman anymore. She was a hundred-thousand-year-old Empress. A being of immense, terrifying power. She was a blur of motion, a flicker of crimson and shadows in the dark woods.

 

She returned a moment later. In her arms, she held three small, trembling, and utterly, completely, and terrified creatures. They were simple, ten-year-old rabbits, their long ears flattened against their heads, their small, black eyes wide with a pure, unadulterated terror.

 

She gently, almost mockingly, placed them on the ground before the unconscious form of Tang San.

 

"Will these be sufficient, my love?" she asked, her voice a low, purring sound of pure, maternal satisfaction.

 

"They will do nicely," he replied with a nod. He looked at the three terrified little creatures, and then at the unconscious boy.

 

"Now," he began, his voice a low, conspiratorial murmur, "you will need to control him. To make him see an illusion. An illusion where he is the one who kills these pathetic little beasts. An illusion where he is the one who willingly absorbs their trash-tier spirit rings onto his precious, oh-so-powerful Clear Sky Hammer."

 

Ah Yin listened, and her cruel, beautiful smile widened. 'An illusion?' she thought, her own mind, a thing of ancient, predatory cunning, already formulating a new, more direct, and far more satisfying plan. 'Why bother with something so… subtle?'

 

"An illusion is a fine idea, my love," she said, her voice a sweet, honeyed sound. "But I believe I have a more… direct method in mind."

 

She knelt beside the unconscious boy. She placed a hand on his forehead, and a wave of pure, potent, and incredibly powerful mental force flowed from her palm. It did not just suppress his consciousness. It invaded it. It conquered it.

 

She then raised her other hand, and a new set of thin, impossibly fine, and almost invisible crimson vines erupted from her fingertips. They were not the thick, powerful vines of the Blood Silver Emperor. They were the delicate, precise, and utterly, completely, and terrifyingly controlling tendrils of the Blood Silver Empress.

 

They snaked around the imposter's limbs, his arms, his legs, his very fingers, wrapping around him like the strings of a marionette.

 

"I will not make him think he is doing it," she purred, her crimson eyes glowing with a cold, vengeful light. "I will make him do it. I will control his body. I will control his spirit power. He will be my puppet. And he will perform for us."

 

Zhang Tian watched, and a slow, deep, and utterly, completely, and joyously evil laugh bubbled up from his chest. "Oh, Ah Yin," he said, his voice a low, appreciative sound. "You truly are a magnificent, and terrifying, woman."

 

The ritual began.

 

Ah Yin's vines tightened. The unconscious, puppet-like body of Tang San was forced to sit up. His right hand was forced to reach out and grab a sharp, jagged rock from the ground.

 

The first, terrified little rabbit was pushed forward.

 

"Now, my little imposter," Ah Yin whispered, her voice a low, sweet, and utterly, completely, and terrifyingly poisonous sound. "It is time to receive your first, true gift."

 

The puppet's arm moved, a stiff, jerky, and unnatural motion. The sharp rock was raised high.

 

And then, it was brought down.

 

There was a soft, wet, and utterly, completely, and sickeningly final crunch.

 

A pathetic, almost invisible wisp of white light, the spirit ring of a ten-year-old beast, rose from the small, broken body.

 

The puppet's hands were then forced into a meditation pose. Ah Yin's spirit power surged, forcing the imposter's own, much weaker, spirit power to circulate.

 

The Clear Sky Hammer materialized in the air before him, a silent, magnificent, and utterly, completely, and terrifyingly powerful weapon.

 

And then, the pathetic, white spirit ring, a thing of pure, unadulterated, and almost comically insignificant power, was slowly, inexorably, pulled towards it.

 

The great, black hammer seemed to shudder, to resist, as if its own, innate pride, its own noble, Imperial soul, was rejecting this… this trash.

 

But it was no use.

 

The white ring settled around it, the first of three new, and utterly, completely, and devastatingly permanent, scars.

 

The ritual was repeated. Twice more.

 

By the end of it, the unconscious, puppet-like form of Tang San sat in the center of a small, bloody clearing. And the magnificent, peerless, and once-unblemished Clear Sky Hammer was now adorned with three new, pathetic, and utterly, completely, and soul-crushingly useless, ten-year-old, white spirit rings.

 

Ah Yin withdrew her vines, her mental control, and the imposter's body slumped back to the ground, a discarded, broken toy.

 

Zhang Tian just stood there, watching the scene, and a long, slow, and utterly, completely, and joyously evil laugh echoed through the dark, silent forest.

 

He was very, very much looking forward to Yu Xiaogang's reaction when he saw what had become of his most prized disciple's second spirit for which both he and Tang Hao had high hopes.

~~

 

A/N: Check out my other novels like "Harem Master: Seduction System" and the "Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist" and I hope you like this story and those stories as well.

 

Check out more chapters on my P.atreon. The P.atreon will have 20+ Chapters ahead for this story. I hope you like it.

 

 The link of p.atreon is: bit.ly/evildragon

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