"Talk," Jiang Dao said, a cruel smile twisting his lips.
"I know the truth," the old Daoist gasped, his voice thin with terror. "The truth about the wraith invasion. Just let me live."
"The truth, huh?" Jiang Dao's eyes narrowed. For a moment, he seemed to consider it. Then he grabbed a fistful of the old man's hair and dragged him back toward the other room.
The Daoist cried out, a raw, strangled sound, his hands flying to his head as if he could hold it on. He scrambled to keep up, but Jiang Dao just kept walking, dragging him across the floor. A long, dark smear of blood trailed behind them, a shocking stain against the wood.
A moment later, Jiang Dao tossed the man into the room like a sack of garbage. The Daoist landed in a heap in the corner with a dull thud. Jiang Dao pulled a chair to the center of the room and sat, leaning forward, his presence filling the space. His eyes, sharp as shattered glass, pinned the old man to the wall.
"What truth?" Jiang Dao's voice was ice.
"If I... if I tell you, will you let me go?" the Daoist pleaded, his words choked with pain. "Let me leave first. I swear, I'll find a way to get the information to you."
Jiang Dao didn't answer. He simply broke a splinter of wood from his chair, held it between his thumb and forefinger, and flicked it. The shard shot across the room like a bullet, burying itself in the Daoist's shoulder. The man screamed, a high, thin wail as fresh blood sprayed from the wound.
"You're going to talk," Jiang Dao said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl. "Or I'm going to start carving pieces off you until you do. I'll strip you to the bone if I have to."
A horrifying, gurgling laugh escaped the old Daoist's lips—the sound of a man who knew he was utterly broken. He had lost. This kid wasn't even human. If he'd known, he never would have stayed, never would have pushed his luck. This wasn't a boy; he was a demon wearing human skin.
"It's the wraith cults," he finally whispered, the fight gone from him. "They're in bed with the Imperial Court. They're after a relic, a sacred object. It's somewhere in Hengzhou City, which means... a lot of people have to die."
"The Court is working with them?" A cold fire lit in Jiang Dao's eyes. "A minute ago, you didn't know anything. Are you still trying to play me?"
"No! I swear, I wouldn't dare lie again," the Daoist stammered. "If you don't believe me, go find the city magistrate. Squeeze him. He'll tell you."
Jiang Dao frowned. He'd already suspected something was rotten at the core, a conspiracy between the government and the things that haunted the dark.
"Why the killing? If all they want is a relic?" he asked.
"The wraiths need blood to survive," the old man explained, his voice trembling. "These cults, they control them. When they move in force, mass death is inevitable. The Court has never been able to stop them, so they just... manage them. Wherever the cults appear, the Court seals the area. They let them have their fill, let them burn through the population. Once they're done, they move on."
"So all these people... their lives mean nothing to the Court?" Jiang Dao's voice was a low rumble.
"When you're dealing with things you can't possibly understand, even an empire becomes a puppet. What's the life of a commoner in the face of that?"
"And the cult that came after my family? Who are they?"
"The Spirit Child Palace," the Daoist whispered, his eyes wide with fear. "Their ranks are filled with unspeakable horrors. The 'spirit children' are just the foot soldiers, the weakest among them. They command far greater wraiths, things that create seas of blood wherever they go. I didn't tell you because I'm terrified of them. They have their eyes on Hengzhou now. Thousands will die before they're satisfied. The only thing that could stop it is if the relic shows itself first."
"What is it? This relic?"
"I don't know exactly. Just that it's an object of immense, terrifying power. Relics are the most dangerous artifacts in the world. Each one is a prison for an even greater entity. To use a relic's power, you have to feed it. You offer it blood—enough blood to satisfy the monster sealed inside." He was talking faster now, desperate. "Even the weakest relic can unleash unimaginable destruction, kill thousands in a single blow. It's a power beyond anything in the mortal world."
Jiang Dao's thoughts churned. A relic… it sounded like this world's version of a nuclear bomb. And one was about to go off in Hengzhou. An artifact that powerful would draw every monster, cultist, and killer out of the woodwork. The people of the city were caught in the middle, their lives nothing more than fuel for the fire.
"Where is it?" Jiang Dao demanded. "The relic. Where is it now?"
"I... I don't know." The Daoist's face was a mask of misery. "Next to these cosmic horrors, I'm less than nothing. All I know is that it's somewhere in this city. That's it."
"And the Exorcists? Is it true you need the bloodline? No one else can become one?"
"Yes, that part was never a lie. The masters of the Spirit Child Palace are a kind of Exorcist themselves. They just choose to enslave the spirits instead of destroying them."
"Is there any way for me to become one?"
"No. I swear, I don't know how. Please, just let me go," he begged, tears streaming down his face. "I was wrong. I was a blind old fool. Spare me, and I'll do anything you ask."
Jiang Dao fell silent for a moment. Then he asked, "This martial arts of mine... what do you really think? How does it stack up against an Exorcist?"
The old man hesitated. "If... if I'm honest, you'll let me live?"
"You have my word. Talk."
"Against all Exorcists, I'm one of the weakest," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "The powerful ones… they're monsters. Nearly indestructible. You struggled to take me down. Against one of them… I don't think you stand a chance."
"Indestructible..." The word landed like a stone in Jiang Dao's gut. He stared at the broken man on the floor. Then, in a blur of motion too fast to follow, he moved. A single, brutal kick snapped the Daoist's chin upward, launching his body into the air with a sickening crack.
As the man hung suspended for a half-second, Jiang Dao's hand flashed, turning a deep, bloody crimson. He drove his palm straight into the Daoist's face.
CRUNCH.
The man's head exploded like a melon dropped from a great height.
"Sparing you would be a disservice to the girls you ruined," Jiang Dao said to the headless corpse as it crashed to the floor.
He stood over the body, his breathing heavy, his brow deeply furrowed. This was bad. Making an enemy of the Spirit Child Palace meant brutal, unending retaliation was coming. He and his family had to get out of Hengzhou. Now.
Jiang Dao turned and walked back into the courtyard. The eerie laughter from before was gone. It seemed only one wraith had visited tonight.
He exhaled slowly, and the mountain of muscle he had become began to recede. Like air from a punctured lung, his body shrank, the bulging veins disappearing back under his skin. In moments, he was back to his normal size. Almost.
Though his muscle mass had contracted, his height hadn't changed as much. He was still tall, maybe six-foot-two. He looked down at himself, frowning. Had his bones actually stretched? The changes brought by mastering five different martial arts were more profound than he'd realized. His own body felt alien. He could control the transformation at will, unleashing that monstrous, expanded form whenever he needed.
He understood now. His normal body was a cage, restricting his true power. Only when he let the monster out could he tap into his full, unrestrained strength.
He pulled up the system panel again, his eyes scanning the text.
And then he saw it.
"Huh?"
Something had changed. Next to the name of each martial art he had mastered, a new status had appeared.
Mad Demon Staff Technique [Modifiable]
Blood Shadow Saber Technique [Modifiable]
Eagle Claw Iron Shirt [Modifiable]
Wind-Chasing Saber [Modifiable]
Poisonous Sand Palm [Modifiable]
"Does this mean..." A spark of excitement cut through his worry. "...I can push them even further?"
He focused his intent, his mind's eye touching the word next to the Mad Demon Staff Technique.
Instantly, the world dissolved, and the text on the panel swirled into a blur of profound, unknowable symbols.