One month passed.
To the Azure Cloud Sect, "Han Fei" was a model disciple. He lived in the desolate Ghost Hollow, never complained, and spent his days meditating behind closed doors. Occasionally, he would be seen sweeping the leaves from the stone steps, looking melancholic and harmless.
But under the cover of the Ghost Hollow's perpetual mist, Mo Tian was sharpening his fangs.
He sat in the lotus position, floating three feet above the ground on a cushion of black Qi. The Mist King's Thunder Core had been fully digested. His meridians now hummed with a dual-attribute energy: the cold rot of Death and the explosive violence of Mutated Thunder.
[Status Update] [Realm: Qi Condensation - Stage 7 (Peak)] [Villain Merit: 450] [Organization: 'The Shadow Court' (Level 1)]
A paper crane made of black talisman paper fluttered through the window. It landed in Mo Tian's hand and combusted, whispering a message directly into his mind.
"Master. The target is moving. Midnight. The Snake Pass. Twelve guards. Three wagons. The aura of the cargo is... strange. It smells like iron and rot." — Ghost One.
Mo Tian crushed the ashes in his hand. "Iron and rot. The scent of hypocrisy."
He stood up. His bones popped, sounding like firecrackers.
"System. Equip [Mask of the Nameless]."
A featureless white porcelain mask appeared on his face. It was a Tier 2 item he had purchased with his accumulated merit. It didn't just hide his face; it scrambled divination attempts.
"Time to go shopping."
The Snake Pass
The Snake Pass was a narrow canyon cutting through the mountain range, known for rockslides and bandit attacks. It was the last place a legitimate merchant caravan would go.
Which meant the Zhao Clan caravan moving through it was anything but legitimate.
Twelve guards on Spirit Horses rode in a tight formation around three reinforced iron wagons. These weren't standard guards; they were the Zhao Clan's private "Cleaners"—men who did the dirty work that the sect couldn't know about.
"Keep your eyes open," the captain growled, his hand resting on a serrated saber. "The Clan Head needs this delivery for his breakthrough. If we lose it, we all die."
The wind howled through the canyon.
Suddenly, the lead horse reared, screaming. Its front legs had been severed clean off.
"Ambush!"
The captain drew his saber. "Defensive formation!"
But there was no army of bandits. There was only one man standing on top of a rock outcropping, silhouetted against the moon. He wore black robes and a white, featureless mask.
"Who are you?" the captain shouted.
Mo Tian didn't answer. He raised his hand.
[Art: Thunder-Corpse Palm]
Black lightning crackled around his fingers, not bright and loud like natural thunder, but silent and oppressive.
He swiped down.
A massive palm print made of black lightning crashed into the center of the formation.
BOOM!
The ground shattered. Four guards were vaporized instantly, their armor turning to molten slag. The remaining horses panicked, throwing their riders.
"Kill him!" the captain roared, charging up the rocks with the remaining seven men. They were all Stage 6 or 7 cultivators. A formidable force.
Mo Tian jumped down to meet them.
He moved like a phantom. He ducked under a saber slash, his hand punching through the attacker's chest armor like it was paper. He ripped the man's heart out and crushed it, absorbing the blood mist in one fluid motion.
[Essence Devoured.]
"Monster!"
Three guards thrust their spears. Mo Tian caught two spear tips with his bare hands, the black lightning on his skin nullifying their Qi. He yanked them forward, kicking the third guard's head off.
He spun, using the spears as javelins to impale the two men he was holding.
It wasn't a battle. It was a slaughter.
Within sixty seconds, only the captain remained. He was backing away, terror in his eyes. "You... you use Demonic Arts! The Azure Cloud Sect will hunt you down!"
Mo Tian tilted his head. The white mask stared soullessly at the captain.
"The Sect?" Mo Tian's voice was distorted by the mask, sounding like two stones grinding together. "They are sleeping. And you are trespassing."
He flicked his finger. A bolt of black lightning pierced the captain's knee.
"Argh!" The captain fell.
Mo Tian walked past him to the wagons. "Let's see what is so important."
He slashed the lock of the first wagon. The iron doors swung open.
Mo Tian paused.
Inside were cages. But they didn't hold beasts.
They held children.
Twenty young boys and girls, no older than ten. They were unconscious, stripped naked, and covered in strange red runes. Their skin was pale, drained of blood.
"Blood Cauldrons," Mo Tian whispered.
He recognized the technique. It was a method to artificially purify one's spiritual roots by filtering one's blood through the bodies of children with specific birth dates. It killed the children painfully over months.
He opened the second wagon. It was filled with jars of "Spirit-Refining Blood"—the processed result of previous batches.
The Zhao Clan, a pillar of the Righteous Path, was running a blood farm.
Mo Tian looked at the captain, who was crawling away.
"You call me a monster," Mo Tian said, his voice dropping an octave.
He grabbed the captain by the neck and dragged him to the open wagon. He forced the man's head inside to look at the dying children.
"Look at them."
"It... it is necessary!" the captain blubbered. "The Clan Head needs to reach the Core Formation Realm! If he succeeds, the Zhao Clan will protect thousands! A few sacrifices... it is for the greater good!"
Mo Tian laughed. It was a cold, dry sound.
"The greater good," Mo Tian mused. "That is the favorite excuse of the weak."
[System Triggered] [Choice Detected]
A: Consume the Blood and the Children. Massive XP Gain.
B: Save the Children. Minimal XP Gain.
C: [Villain's Path]: Use the evidence to destroy the Zhao Clan's reputation, and recruit the survivors as fanatics.
Mo Tian threw the captain into the canyon wall. Splat.
"I don't save people," Mo Tian said to the silence. "But I do hate wasted resources."
He turned to the darkness. "Ghost One."
A shadow peeled itself off the canyon wall. The boy, formerly Li Seven, now wore clean dark assassin robes. He looked at the wagons, his eyes widening slightly.
"Master?"
"Take the children to the safehouse in Silver City," Mo Tian commanded. "Heal them. Feed them. And tell them who saved them. Tell them who put them in those cages."
Ghost One looked at the children. "They are broken. They will never be normal."
"I don't want normal," Mo Tian said, turning away. "I want weapons. Those runes carved into their skin... if they survive, they will have a natural affinity for pain and blood arts. Train them."
"And the blood jars?" Ghost One pointed to the second wagon.
Mo Tian waved his hand. The jars flew out, hovering around him.
"This is my cut."
He opened his mouth, and the Corpse-Refining Heaven-Eater Art activated. The blood from the jars turned into a crimson river, flowing into him.
It was dirty power, filled with the pain of innocents. But Mo Tian filtered it, devouring the power and storing the resentment.
[Experience Gained: 2000] [Status: Qi Condensation Stage 8 (Imminent)]
"Burn the wagons," Mo Tian ordered. "Leave the captain's body. And carve this on his chest."
He tossed a dagger to Ghost One.
"What symbol, Master?"
"The crest of the 'Blood Devil Sect'."
Ghost One smirked. "Blaming a dead sect for our work. Clever."
"Not just blaming," Mo Tian corrected, looking up at the moon. "We are inviting them back. If the Azure Cloud Sect thinks their old enemy has returned, they will panic. And in panic... they will make mistakes."
He vanished into the night.
The war had begun. And the Zhao Clan had just provided the ammunition for their own execution.