Wei Ji didn't reply at once.
He kept his expression calm, though his eyes were sharp, quietly observing the middle-aged man before him. Who is this man? he thought. The way the guards stood around him, the commanding air he gave off, the resemblance in his face to the body Wei Ji now inhabited—it was a little familiar. But still, Wei Ji needed to be sure.
Before he could think further, a sharp voice rang out from the side of the man.
"Hey, Han Ji! Why are you just standing there? Why are you not kneeling before your father? Now!"
The words cracked like a whip across the tense courtyard.
Wei Ji's chest tightened in surprise. Father? This man… is Han Ji's father?
The man in the fine robes—Han Cui, head of the Han Family—stood proud, his brows drawn in suspicion. The moonlight outlined the stern lines of his face, making him look even more imposing.
Wei Ji's mind raced. But immediately calmed himself and began thinking what he should do next. Right, the Cultivator! The one he just killed. If they searched the area, they would find the corpse of the Four Element Sect disciple hidden not far from here. If that happened, no excuse would be enough to cover it. He needed to distract them. He needed to keep their eyes, their questions, their suspicions far away from that spot.
He glanced sideways, toward the Vermillion Savannah Chamber, where Lu Shaohua lay unconscious inside. His jaw tightened. Not a good reason… but she may be my only cover right now.
He let his body stiffen, his face twist with anger, and his voice rise in open defiance.
"Kneel? Did I hear that right? You want me to bow? Bow… while I stand here in front of my wife?"
Suddenly, the courtyard went quiet. If there was a needle dropped even in the grasses, they'd hear it.
The guards' faces froze. Some of them blinked in disbelief, as though their ears had betrayed them.
Han Cui's eyes widened slightly, though he said nothing yet.
Wei Ji's voice rose again, cutting through the silence like a blade.
"Just yesterday, I was forced into marriage. Just yesterday, uh… no, just two days ago, I was humiliated before the whole city, marrying a woman you all whispered about. And now? Now, after one week—no, not even two days—you dare tell me to kneel? To bow? When I have not even spent a single week in peace that I just got my new wife?"
His words carried a sharp edge, but he layered them with the indignation of a man who was wronged.b
The guards exchanged looks, their faces slowly went pale. Han Cui's subordinates, loyal but cautious, trembled in disbelief uneasily.
Did they just hear him complain?
To make sure they are heading it right, Wei Ji pressed harder.
"You ask me to bow now, when I have every right to stand tall. Is it so wrong to demand even a little respect on two night after my marriage? Do I not deserve the right, as a son, as a man, to stay by my wife's side without being called away like a servant?"
His eyes locked on Han Cui, unwavering.
"And you… my father." The words were slow, heavy, deliberate. "I have been nothing but a good son to you. I obeyed when you commanded. I swallowed my pride when you scolded me in front of others. I lowered my head when you praised my younger brothers, never once arguing, never once asking for recognition. I bent my back to keep the peace of this family. Day after day, I endured, silent, loyal. Is that not true?"
The silence became even more deep. Not a guard dared breathe too loudly. They all remembered the old Han Ji, a timid boy who followed his father like a puppy, tail wagging, eyes downcast. That boy had never raised his voice, never once defied the head of the Han Family.
And now… this?
"This is how I am repaid? With commands to kneel, with suspicion, with disrespect, on the very night after my wedding? Is this what my loyalty has earned me?"
The words he spat were full of fury. Even the wind seemed to hesitate, as if nature itself was stunned.
One of Han Cui's men finally snapped, face twisted in anger. He pointed a finger at Wei Ji, voice trembling. "You—! You dare speak like this to your father!? You insolent brat—!"
But even as he shouted, the words faltered. His throat locked, his voice cracked, and the fury in his eyes was smothered by something else—confusion, disbelief, even fear.
Wei Ji narrowed his eyes. His body itched with preparedness, itching for a fight. Good. If they push me, I'll give them one. I've killed one cultivator tonight. If I have to end more, even the entire Han Family… so be it. I'll make sure there won't be witness alive.
But before anyone could act, the air around suddenly went cold.
From beyond the courtyard came a sound—wet, strange, writhing. Like bones snapping, like flesh twisting unnaturally. The lantern flames bent toward the noise, as though sucked by some unseen breath.
Then it appeared.
From the shadows crawled a creature. Its limbs were too long, its body stretched unnaturally thin, its skin like pale leather stretched over sharp bones. Its eyes were hollow pits of darkness. It moved on all fours at first, then slowly rose, standing taller than any man.
The soldiers gasped. Some stepped back, weapons raised.
Wei Ji's heart stopped. His lips parted in shock, his voice a whisper only he could hear.
"…A Demonkin?"
His mind reeled, dragging him back to his past life.
Memories—nights drenched in blood, armies torn apart, sects falling one after another. These creatures, these cursed things, were always the first to appear when an invasion began. They were the harbingers, the scouts of the abyss.
He remembered how even peak cultivators struggled to bring one down. How their bodies regenerated. How their presence spread terror. He remembered standing among fellow sect leaders, watching dozens of disciples scream as Demonkin tore into them, unstoppable, unending.
His muscles tensed. His instinct screamed to flee. Even in this body, even with all his knowledge, facing one here was madness.
But before he could move—
Thwip!
An arrow cut the air. It struck the creature's head cleanly, piercing through, very easily. The Demonkin froze. Then, like mist under sunlight, its body immediately crumbled into dust. .
Wei Ji blinked. He couldn't breathe.
"…What?"
It was dead. One arrow. Just one.
Did just saw an almost unkillable being killed by a mortal arrow?
Another screech echoed. Another Demonkin emerged from the shadows, crawling forward. Another arrow flew. Another kill. The thing collapsed instantly, vanishing into dust.
This made Wei Ji stare in complete disbelief, his mind struggling to catch up on what just happened. "This… this isn't right. These monsters… killed so easily? By mortals? How?"
But there was no time. More shadows appeared, more figures emerged. The night erupted with the sound of screams and clashing steel.
Han Cui's voice roared over the chaos. "Form ranks! Kill them all! Follow the Immortal's orders!"
The courtyard exploded into motion. Guards surged forward, weapons raised, clashing with the growing tide of twisted shapes. Lanterns fell, firelight flickering across terrified faces and writhing shadows.
Wei Ji stood frozen for a heartbeat. Then, slowly, he remembered.
I went back in time.
These creatures should be weak now, still in their earliest form. Not yet the nightmare beasts he knew. His fists clenched. He looked to his side and grabbed the arm of a nearby soldier.
The man nearly dropped his spear, shocked by Wei Ji's strength. "Y-young master?!"
"What are these things?" Wei Ji demanded, eyes sharp.
The soldier stammered, his spear trembling. "I—I don't know for certain. But the elders say they are born from negative energy, condensed until it takes shape. Anger, hatred, despair… all the darkness men cast aside. That's what becomes of these things!"
Wei Ji's eyes narrowed. "So it's the same."
He looked at the man's weapon, then down to his own empty hands. "Give me your sword."
The soldier blinked in shock. "M-my sword? Young master, are you planning to—?"
Wei Ji didn't wait. His hand shot down, gripping the blade at the man's waist, pulling it free. The weight felt was little unfamiliar, clumsy, but it was enough.
He raised the sword, its edge catching the firelight. His lips curled into a small, dangerous smile.
"I want to see… how I kill them."