Chapter 10 – Whispers of Blood
When Xu Lian stepped out of the Shadowed Abyss, dawn had already painted the sky in crimson streaks. The world outside looked unchanged—birds still sang, rivers still flowed—but to him, everything was different.
The qi within his body roared like a tempest, refined, heavier, deadlier. Each breath he drew was filled with power; each step cracked the ground faintly beneath him. His once-boyish frame now carried a presence that made even beasts retreat into the shadows.
The Xu Lian who had entered the abyss was gone.
The one who emerged was forged in blood and shadows.
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News traveled faster than blades.
In the nearest cultivation towns, taverns buzzed with fearful whispers:
"They say a boy massacred five Heaven-Slaying assassins in a single night."
"Not a boy—an avenger. They call him the Blood Shadow."
"I heard he's the last survivor of the Xu clan… the one who dares challenge the Seven Realms."
The more the story spread, the more it grew. Some claimed he devoured souls, others swore his eyes burned like fire. Rumor or not, fear had taken root.
And fear was exactly what Xu Lian wanted.
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As he walked into the border town of Ironfang, conversations ceased. Merchants froze. Even seasoned cultivators glanced his way, unease prickling their skin. He was still young, but the crimson glow in his eyes and the suffocating aura he exuded left no doubt—this was no ordinary youth.
Three cultivators in black robes blocked his path near the market square. Their sect's emblem—a coiling serpent—marked them as disciples of the Venom Fang Hall, a minor sect known for cruelty.
One of them sneered. "So, you're the one causing a stir. Xu Lian, isn't it?"
Lian's gaze slid over them as though they were insects. "Move."
The man chuckled, drawing his curved blade. "You think killing a few assassins makes you untouchable? Our master's offering a reward for your head. Hand yourself over quietly, and maybe I'll leave your corpse whole."
The crowd around them held its breath.
Xu Lian's lips curved—not into a smile, but into a razor-sharp line of contempt.
In a flash, his blade was drawn.
Shhhk!
Blood sprayed across the cobblestones. One cultivator's head rolled to the ground before the others even realized what had happened.
Gasps erupted.
Xu Lian's voice cut through the silence, low and merciless.
"Tell your master: if he wants my head, he can bring it back himself. If he doesn't dare, then he should cut off his own and save me the trouble."
The remaining disciples trembled, retreating with pale faces.
---
By the time Xu Lian sheathed his blade, the entire town was silent. The people no longer looked at him as a fugitive or a survivor.
They looked at him as something far worse.
A demon wearing human skin.
Xu Lian turned and walked away, the air heavy with unspoken terror. His words, his presence, his ruthlessness—these would spread faster than any bounty notice.
The Seven Realms wanted to erase his name. Instead, they had created a legend.
The Overlord's Shadow had begun to loom.