High above the Lute Clan's ancestral grounds, the sky darkened unnaturally. Not with storm clouds, but with a deep crimson haze that swallowed sunlight and warmth alike. One moment, disciples were practicing music formations in the open courtyards, delicate notes weaving through the air. The next, every sound died.
Then the pressure descended.
It slammed down without warning, like a mountain dropped from the heavens. Defensive formations flared instinctively, ancient runes lighting up across the clan grounds, but they screamed under the weight, cracking and splintering as if they were glass.
Elders staggered, blood spilling from their lips. Disciples collapsed to their knees, some screaming as their meridians ruptured under the crushing aura.
"What is this…?"
"A Monarch… no, this pressure—this is real…"
Fear spread faster than any blade.
And then he appeared.
There was no flash of light, no violent descent. He simply stood in the air above the central plaza, robes the color of dried blood drifting lazily as if the sky itself obeyed him. His eyes glowed faintly crimson, calm and amused, like a predator observing prey too weak to resist.
The Blood Demon.
He did not strike. He did not speak at first.
He merely allowed his cultivation to exist.
That alone was enough.
From the deepest hall of the clan, two figures rushed out. Yang Cao, the clan old patriarch, forced calm etched into his features, and beside him his son, Yang Jian
The moment they felt the full weight of that aura, his breath caught.
"There is no mistake," he said hoarsely. "Monarch Realm." Yang JIan clenched his fists. "Is…he here to destroy us ?"
The Blood Demon's lips curved into a faint smile.
"Relax," he said casually, his voice carrying across the grounds with terrifying clarity. "If I wished to destroy you, there would be nothing left to look at."
Relief surged through the clan for a single heartbeat.
Then dread crushed it.
"Then why are you here?" Yang Cao forcing the words out despite the pressure threatening to buckle his knees.
The Blood Demon laughed softly, as if genuinely entertained.
"To let you know," he replied, his gaze sweeping across the kneeling clan, "that the era you are familiar with has ended."
His aura flared slightly.
Just slightly.
The ground shattered. Stone exploded upward. Several disciples screamed as their cultivation foundations collapsed outright.
And then, just as abruptly, he vanished.
No ripple. No residue. No trace of qi.
Only his laughter lingered in the sky, echoing long after his presence was gone.
Silence followed.
A suffocating, hollow silence filled with disbelief and terror.
Healers rushed forward. Elders struggled to stand. Disciples wept openly, some clutching their shattered meridians, others staring blankly at the sky as if expecting him to return.
Yang Jian stared upward, his face drained of color.
"Father… he could have wiped us out."
Yang Cao closed his eyes slowly.
"Yes," he said. "And he wanted us to understand that. Prepare for War!"
By nightfall, the news had spread across the continent.
The Blood Demon had stepped into the Monarch Realm.
And he was no longer hiding.
Panic swept through sects and clans alike. Gates were sealed. Emergency councils were convened. Ancient formations were awakened for the first time in generations.
And again and again, the same whispered question surfaced.
Who can stop him?
Deep beneath the earth, far from the trembling surface world, crimson light pulsed rhythmically within a vast cavern. Blood-red mist coiled along the walls, feeding on the countless broken weapons embedded into the stone. Spears, swords, halberds, once glorious, now reduced to lifeless husks drained of all essence.
At the center of it all, the Blood Demon sat upon his throne.
His aura was heavier now, denser, carrying a pressure that bent reality itself. Faint dragon-kin features traced along his arms and shoulders, his blood humming with an alien, ancient power.
He laughed softly to himself.
"Did you see their fear?" he murmured. "It tasted… exquisite."
A slow clap echoed through the cavern.
"Well done."
The Blood Demon's eyes snapped open.
From the shadows stepped a man dressed in white, his features refined, his smile serene to the point of being unsettling. His presence flickered, unstable, as though he were not entirely real.
Bai Khan.
Or rather, one of his clones.
"You've reached the Monarch Realm," Bai Khan said pleasantly. "A milestone worth celebrating."
The Blood Demon snorted. "You didn't come here to praise me."
Bai Khan's smile widened. As he spoke, thin strands of pale light slipped from his form, quietly sinking into the Blood Demon's aura, unnoticed and unresisted.
"Straightforward as ever," Bai Khan said. "Very well. The continent trembles. Soon, it will kneel."
The Blood Demon rose to his feet, power rolling off him in waves.
"Yes," he said. "I will take this land. Every sect. Every clan. I will remake it in blood."
Bai Khan chuckled softly.
"This continent?" he asked lightly. "How modest."
The Blood Demon frowned. "What are you implying?"
"The Monarch Realm," Bai Khan replied, tilting his head, "is not the summit you believe it to be."
The Blood Demon's aura surged dangerously. "Careful."
Bai Khan waved a hand dismissively. "No offense intended. But compared to what lies beyond… this is merely a threshold."
He paused, then added casually, "And there is still one existence you've chosen to avoid."
The Blood Demon's expression darkened.
"The mysterious individual."
"Precisely."
Bai Khan snapped his fingers.
The air twisted violently, and another figure stumbled into the cavern. His eyes were unfocused, his aura chaotic, violent, as if barely contained within a broken vessel.
The Mad Emperor.
The Blood Demon's pupils shrank.
"…You."
He recognized that face. The madness. The twisted familiarity.
"Peak Spirit-Shattering Realm," the Blood Demon muttered. "But shattered."
The Mad Emperor suddenly laughed, sharp and hollow.
"He's watching—he's watching—HAHA—"
Bai Khan placed a hand on his shoulder.
The laughter stopped instantly.
"He's broken," Bai Khan said calmly. "But useful."
"You want me to face the mysterious individual?" the Blood Demon asked slowly.
"No," Bai Khan replied. "I want him to."
He gestured toward the Mad Emperor.
"I'll handle the rest."
The Blood Demon stared at them both, then laughed deeply.
"Very well," he said. "I have no desire to test that monster myself. Not yet. I'll conquer this land."
He fixed Bai Khan with a sharp gaze. "Do not fail."
Bai Khan bowed slightly. "I never do."
The clone began to fade. The Mad Emperor's vacant eyes lifted toward the surface, as if sensing something far away, something bright and irritating.
Just before disappearing, Bai Khan spoke softly.
"Enjoy your war, Monarch."
Far above, the skies darkened once more.
Across the continent, war drums began to sound.
Sects mobilized. Clans armed themselves. Ancient powers stirred from slumber.
And somewhere, far removed from fear and frenzy, Qin Su yawned lazily.