The night split apart with thunderous clashes.
Azure light rained down like heavenly punishment, while demonic shadows writhed like serpents from the abyss. The village shook beneath the clash of sect-trained might against the cursed strength of one orphan boy.
Shen Zong's figure flickered between blades, his ragged body pushed beyond its limits. Cuts ran deep across his arms, blood staining the earth, yet his movements were precise, deliberate, each strike laced with cunning.
He dragged an enforcer into the path of another's sword, letting the man die by his brother's hand. He feinted weakness, then unleashed a burst of demonic qi that shredded flesh and bone.
Three lay dead. Seven remained.
The silver-haired leader roared, his aura flaring like a raging tempest. "Demonic brat! You dare defy the Azure Cloud Sect?"
His sword sang, cleaving through the night sky like a streak of lightning. The sheer force split the ground, sending waves of shattered stone crashing into homes. Villagers cowered, praying desperately to whatever gods still listened.
Shen Zong raised his arm to block—
CRACK!
Bone shattered. His body hurled backward, slamming into the charred remains of the altar. Blood spilled from his lips, hot and metallic, yet his eyes remained calm, unbroken.
The silver-haired leader advanced slowly, his steps deliberate, as if savoring the moment.
"You fought well for a wretch. But in the end, an orphan cursed by the heavens cannot defy fate."
The other enforcers closed in, their blades gleaming with lethal light.
For the first time, Shen Zong felt his body reaching its limit. The demonic qi churned violently within him, unstable, threatening to tear him apart. The phantom lotus behind him flickered, petals crumbling under the weight of the enforcers' combined assault.
He staggered to his feet, his breath ragged. His lips curved faintly, though blood dripped from them.
"Defy fate?" His voice was hoarse, yet steady. "No. I rewrite it."
The cursed mark on his chest flared, searing like molten iron. The seven lotus petals blazed with unholy brilliance, veins of black light spreading across his skin. The villagers watching from their cracks in the walls gasped as the shadow of a colossal lotus unfurled above the village, its petals stretching toward the heavens themselves.
The leader's eyes widened. "Impossible… the Cursed Lotus Scripture?! That technique was destroyed centuries ago!"
The ground trembled.
The phantom lotus shrieked, a sound like a thousand souls wailing. Its petals spun outward, each one dripping with corrosive energy. The enforcers' swords cracked as they tried to resist the pressure, their qi consumed like oil to flame.
One by one, their bodies began to disintegrate—skin peeling, bones dissolving—until only ashes remained, swallowed by the blooming lotus.
The silver-haired leader roared, unleashing his full strength in a desperate strike. His sword radiated like the sun, a final, overwhelming blow.
Shen Zong did not move. He simply raised his hand.
The lotus's central petal pulsed once—and the azure light shattered like glass.
The leader's scream was cut short as a tendril pierced his chest, ripping out the core of his cultivation. His body convulsed, then collapsed, lifeless.
The night grew still.
The phantom lotus loomed for a heartbeat longer before folding back into Shen Zong's chest, leaving only silence and the stench of blood.
The boy staggered, collapsing to his knees. His body was broken, his veins scorched with demonic power. The lotus had awakened—but at a terrible price.
He looked at his trembling hands, then at the stars above.
"This power…" His voice was a whisper. "It will either grant me eternity… or devour me whole."
The villagers dared not leave their homes. They knew now—the boy was no longer one of them. He was something else. Something cursed. Something destined.
And in the distance, far beyond the mountains, cultivators and sect elders stirred. The slaughter of the Azure Enforcers would not go unnoticed.
The world had just learned the name Shen Zong.