Chapter 11 – The Birth of Fear
The road from Ironfang stretched into endless plains, but behind Xu Lian, silence lingered. No one dared follow. No one dared even whisper until he was long gone.
The name Blood Shadow had already taken root. What had begun as tavern rumor now grew teeth—spreading through caravans, sect spies, and wandering cultivators. Each retelling added sharper edges:
"They say he carved out an assassin's heart and burned it in front of the corpse."
"No, he drained their souls and fed them to a dragon in his body."
"They say the Xu clan's heir is building an army of shadows in the abyss."
Lies and truth twisted together until even the boldest cultivators felt a chill at the thought of crossing his path.
But Xu Lian was not interested in titles. He did not seek fear for its own sake.
He sought revenge.
And fear was the first step.
---
That night, as he rested beneath a half-broken shrine on the road, his mother's jade slip pulsed faintly in his hand. Her last words echoed once more:
"The Golden Dragon does not bow. It devours the Dao itself. If they strike us from the heavens, then you must strike back from the shadows."
Xu Lian stared up at the stars, his crimson eyes burning like twin embers. The Seven Realms—Mortal, Spirit, Mystic, Immortal, Fiend, Celestial, Primordial, and Abyssal—towered above him, their rulers watching like gods over ants.
And yet, even ants could hollow mountains given enough time.
"I will not remain in the Mortal Realm forever," he murmured, his voice carrying across the night wind. "I will climb. And when I stand before the rulers who slaughtered my family… I will cut them down one by one."
The dragon within his core stirred, its roar silent but furious, as though agreeing.
---
Unbeknownst to him, in the Spirit Realm, a grand sect had already taken notice.
Within the Cloud-Soaring Palace, disciples knelt before their master, a woman cloaked in robes of pale flame. Her voice was calm, but the edges of her words dripped with killing intent.
"The boy survived the Abyss and slaughtered assassins trained by Heaven-Slaying Hall," she said. "The Mortal Realm grows restless because of him. If left alone, he will disturb the order of all seven realms."
One disciple bowed deeply. "Shall we send envoys to eliminate him, Master?"
The woman's eyes glimmered coldly. "Envoys? No. Send an army. Let his legend be buried before it takes root."
---
But far from the Spirit Realm's judgment halls, Xu Lian continued down the lonely road, unaware that forces far greater than sects or kingdoms were beginning to stir against him.
Each step he took cracked the ground faintly.
Each breath carried the weight of storms.
He was no longer simply a survivor.
He was becoming the calamity the Seven Realms feared.
And calamities… are not erased so easily.