Down at the Crimson Clan guard office, the atmosphere was usually a bustling hub of activity. The post was a modest chamber, yet far more vast and heavily reinforced than any mortal outpost. Inside and out, sentries maintained their shifts to the rhythmic clinking of iron armor.
Suddenly, the morning routine was violently shattered.
A young female servant sprinted toward the office as fast as her legs could carry her, her face deathly pale.
"Commander Meng!" she screamed in horror, her voice cracking with sheer panic. "Commander... M-Meng!"
The sentries stationed outside immediately drew their weapons, the sharp ring of cold steel echoing across the courtyard. "Halt! You cannot cross this threshold!" they shouted, raising their spears to block her path.
The girl tried to stop, but her momentum was too great. With a sickening pop, her ankle dislocated under the sudden strain. She let out a sharp cry of agony and collapsed onto the hard stone, her laundry basket tumbling away.
The sentries exchanged startled glances. One of them stepped forward, lowering his spear as he approached her prostrate form. "What happened? You had better have a damn good explanation for causing such a scene."
The girl opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her jaw worked silently, her throat locked tight. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird; frayed nerves had completely cut off her ability to breathe, let alone speak.
"Is this a joke?" another guard barked, his face twisting in irritation. "Are you playing games with us? Gaping there like a fish?"
"N-No... n-no..." she whimpered, waving her trembling hands frantically as tears of frustration welled in her eyes.
The guard who had approached her did not let anger cloud his judgment. She shouted the Commander's name before she fell, he analyzed, studying her frantic expression. Look at her eyes. This isn't the face of a prankster.
"Let's just drag her into custody for disrupting the peace," the aggressive guard grumbled, stepping forward to grab her arm.
The observant sentry shot his comrade a look of utter disbelief. "Are you blind? Can't you see she's trembling uncontrollably? She was running for her life. She didn't come here to play games—she came specifically looking for the Commander."
"So what?" the aggressive guard snapped back, refusing to yield. "Rules are rules. Hysterical servants don't get a pass into the—"
CREAK.
The heavy, iron-reinforced door of the inner chamber swung open.
"Leave her be," a stern voice commanded from the threshold.
The guards froze mid-argument, immediately snapping to attention.
"What?" the aggressive guard muttered, stunned.
The sentry at the doorway stepped aside, his expression deadly serious. "Do not argue. That is not an order from me... it is a direct command from Commander Meng himself. He heard her cries. Bring her inside at once."
Inside the private quarters of the guard office, the young servant gradually settled down. She was given fresh water to soothe her raw throat, and a clan doctor was immediately summoned to set her dislocated ankle.
Once her breathing evened out, she frantically recounted everything she had witnessed. She explained how she had been walking down the trail near the training hall mountain when she spotted several figures through the haze. One was clad in pristine white robes, while the rest were draped in pitch-black garments. She stressed that the fog was too thick to discern their faces, but the moment one of the cloaked figures spotted her, she mistakely dropped some materials in her basket and fled without looking back.
Hmmm...
Commander Meng rested his chin on his hand, his mind racing. Could those cloaked figures be responsible for the drained corpses we found this morning? A dark premonition gripped his chest.
His gaze snapped toward the trembling servant. His pupils suddenly flared with a glowing, crimson light.
The moment the girl met his eyes, a suffocating, terrifying presence crashed down upon her. Staring into Commander Meng's glowing eyes felt like facing an enraged deity. Her soul shuddered to its core. She gasped for air, cold sweat pouring down her face as the psychological weight pressed against her chest.
"Are you telling me the absolute truth?" Meng demanded, his voice echoing with spiritual resonance. "Or were you sent by our enemies to deliver a false report?"
"N-No... No..." she choked out, her teeth chattering uncontrollably. "I am... I am not ly—lying..."
The pressure proved too much for her mortal frame. The instant the words left her lips, her eyes rolled back, and she slumped forward into unconsciousness.
"Ah, my apologies," Meng muttered, instantly withdrawing his aura.
The heavy weight in the room vanished, and the ambient temperature returned to normal.
I had to verify her loyalty first, Meng thought grimly. But something doesn't align. If those intruders spotted her spying, why let her escape unharmed? If they are ruthless killers, why leave a witness alive? Unless... they were in a desperate rush, or they simply didn't care because their payload was already secured.
Meng turned toward the door and barked an order to the sentries outside. Two guards entered immediately and bowed.
"Take her back to the servants' quarters and ensure the doctor finishes treating her," Meng commanded.
"Yes, Sir!" the guards replied, carefully lifting the unconscious girl and carrying her out.
Meng then turned to three elite guards standing by the wall. "You three, with me! Move quickly. We need to investigate this issue, and report to the main gathering hall immediately."
Meanwhile, deep within the dense forest of Village No. 50 in the Mamaya region...
A suffocating mist shrouded the trees, creating an impenetrable barrier that isolated the area from the outside world. The fog hung so thick that even the midday sun failed to pierce the canopy, leaving the woods trapped in a perpetual, ghostly twilight.
Deep within this forgotten labyrinth, the dark operation was entering its final stage.
Bound tightly beneath the gnarled roots of a massive tree, Wang Zhi grew visibly weaker by the hour. Stripped of his spiritual energy, the damp, biting cold of the forest rapidly eroded his mortal endurance. His face was gaunt, and dark hollows framed his eyes.
When am I going to get out of this horrific place? Zhi thought, his sanity fraying at the edges. I've forced my eyes open all night... I can't hold out much longer.
He slumped against the rough bark, his voice a pathetic whisper. "Grandfather... where are you? Please..."
He desperately wanted to rage, to scream, and to curse the bandits as he always does in the clan. But the raw psychological weight of his captivity had shattered his spirit. The arrogant young master had been reduced to a broken, shivering child.
A few dozen meters away, a small hut sat concealed beneath overgrown brush—a crude structure hastily put together from surrounding timber. Inside the cramped space, a volatile cocktail of energies saturated the air.
Ren and Tao sat cross-legged on the dirt floor, fully immersed in their respective cultivation states, surrounded by a swirling reservoir of rich Qi. Tao actively channeled a vibrant, emerald-green Qi, his aura pulsing with the steady rhythm of a venomous wood technique. Beside him, Ren was submerged in a fierce, blood-red Qi that crackled around his frame like heat lightning.
In perfect unison, both men snapped their eyes open, their powerful auras retracting into their bodies.
Ren flexed his fingers, the red energy hissing as it dissolved into the air. He glanced toward the heavy wooden door, his scarred face twisting with impatience.
"What is taking Master so long?" Ren grumbled, his voice coarse. "The boy's bloodline density is confirmed, and Crimson Clan patrols most be crawling all over the Mamaya Region by now. If we linger here any longer, we risk blowing the entire operation."
Tao stood up, smoothly brushing the dirt from his dark, embroidered robes. He adjusted the short pendant blade resting against his chest, his expression cold. "Calm yourself, Ren. Master is likely coordinating with high-ranking elders at the main hall to ensure our extraction path is completely secure. Prepare the array. The moment Master arrives, we bleed the boy dry."
Minutes later, a sudden vibration hummed through the air. Tao's ear twitched as a Sound-Transmission Talisman flared with heat against his chest. A voice carrying chilling authority whispered directly into his mind:
The extraction path is clear. Begin the ritual immediately. I am close.
Tao snapped his eyes open. "Ren. It's time."
The two Netherworld Sect cultivators sat cross-legged on the damp earth, leaving a precise circular space between them. From the folds of his pitch-black robes, Tao produced a hovering, diamond-shaped obsidian artifact—a High-Grade Blood Storage Vessel engineered to violently extract, filter, and refine the pure essence of an ancient bloodline.
Tao turned his gaze toward the scarred bandit leader. "Place the boy in the center of the array."
The scarred leader and his two accomplices untied the shivering, semi-conscious Wang Zhi from the tree roots and dragged him into the middle of the formation, throwing him onto his knees like a piece of meat.
"Listen well," Ren hissed, blood-red Qi flickering around his fingertips. "Ensure no one breaches this perimeter or interrupts our chanting, unless it is Master himself. If you protect this array until we finish, your reward will be a Spirit-Stage Paper Talisman."
The three bandit bosses gasped, their eyes wide with greed. A Spirit-Stage Talisman was a priceless treasure capable of turning the tide of battle or obliterating a fortress.
"We won't let a single fly pass, my lords!" the scarred leader barked. He turned around immediately, shouting orders to his men. "Spread out! All thirty of you, form a defensive perimeter! If you see an ant, crush it! If you see a wild beast, slaughter it! Keep your eyes on the sky and the trees!"
The thirty mercenaries drew their weapons and vanished into the thick fog, forming a living wall around the clearing.
Inside the circle, Ren and Tao's hands blurred into a synchronized sequence of hand seals as they initiated the forbidden Netherworld Core-Bleeding Verse.
VMMM.
A terrifying, three-layered formation materialized on the ground beneath Wang Zhi: a small array locked around his feet, a medium array spun around his torso, and a massive, jagged third layer expanded across the entire clearing. Then, the formation duplicated itself—five glowing copies manifested in the air, boxing Wang Zhi in from the front, back, left, right, and directly overhead.
Ren and Tao began to chant. Their lips moved with demonic speed, reciting archaic spells so fast it sounded like a frantic, dark rhythm echoing off the trees.
Instantly, the surrounding forest plunged into total darkness as the natural light died away.
"Ah... Ahhh..." Wang Zhi gasped.
His eyes rolled back until only the stark whites were visible. Thick droplets of blood welled beneath his eyelids, streaming down his cheeks like tears of pure gore. Seconds later, matching streams of dark blood leaked from his ears, nose, and mouth. His skin turned translucent as his bloodline essence was forcibly torn from his veins.
Defying gravity, the blood floated upward in tiny, pulsing spheres toward the hovering obsidian vessel.
Outside the clearing, a mercenary guard blinked as a brilliant flash of blue light illuminated the fog.
CRACK!
"What the... is the weather changing?" the guard muttered, adjusting his grip on his spear.
The bandit beside him turned pale. "Weather? Are you stupid? The Mamaya forest has been isolated for centuries—it never storms like this!"
Before he could finish his sentence, the sky tore wide open.
BOOM!
A catastrophic roar of thunder shook the nearby mountain to its roots. Gale-force winds violently ripped leaves from the branches, twisting into a localized tornado that shredded the dense canopy. It was no natural storm; it was the physical manifestation of an unbridled, maddened killing intent.
One of the outer guards looked up through the swirling debris. For a fraction of a second, the thick mist parted, revealing a blinding, blue-red light screaming down from the heavens.
He didn't even have time to scream.
RUMBLE—BOOM!
A pillar of pure, condensed heavenly thunder struck the earth. The shockwave send lightning straight to the nearby people around, instantly vaporized ten of the outer mercenaries into ash, leaving nothing behind but scorched craters.
From the center of the blast, a figure emerged. His heavy silk robes billowed violently against the tempest, his eyes bloodshot and burning with blue-red fire.
It was the Fourth Elder, Wang Gu.
The moment his boots touched the scorched earth, his full, unbridled Foundation Establishment aura rolled outward like a tidal wave. The sheer weight of his presence crashed down upon the remaining mercenaries, pinning them to the ground as the earth cracked beneath them.
He had tracked the pendant, and he had come to slaughter."