The Weeping Valley was named for the wind that howled through its limestone arches, sounding like a chorus of grieving widows. It was a natural choke point, flanked by high cliffs, located halfway between the Azure Cloud Sect and the Divine Sword Sect.
Today, the valley was filled with the sound of drums and flutes.
The wedding procession was a mile long. Fifty flying carriages, pulled by Spirit Cranes, carried the dowry. In the center, a massive floating palanquin draped in red silk carried the bride, Yan Luo.
Riding beside the palanquin on a white spirit horse was Young Master Jian of the Divine Sword Sect.
He was undeniably handsome, with sharp features and a sword strapped to his hip that radiated a cold, cutting intent. But his eyes were arrogant. He looked at the surrounding landscape not with appreciation, but with ownership.
"Don't worry, my Saintess," Jian shouted over the wind to the silent figure behind the silk curtains. "My Divine Sword Guards are the elite of the elite. Even a Golden Core cultivator wouldn't dare attack us."
Inside the palanquin, Yan Luo clutched a dagger hidden in her sleeve.
"They wouldn't dare," she whispered to herself. "Because they are already here."
As the procession reached the narrowest point of the valley, the wind suddenly stopped.
The birds went silent.
[Skill Active: Ghost Prison Domain]
A black fog rolled down from the cliffs, swallowing the sun. The drums faltered as the musicians choked on the thick, unnatural mist.
"Ambush!" The Divine Sword Captain roared. "Defensive Ring!"
Before they could raise their shields, the ground exploded.
BOOM!
Red light erupted from beneath the road. The Blood Devil Array—planted days ago by Ghost One—detonated.
The vanguard was vaporized. Spirit horses screamed as they were torn apart by tendrils of blood.
"Kill!"
From the cliffs, figures in crimson armor leaped down. Gu Sha led the charge, his body a whirlwind of sores and blood blades.
"Blood Devils!" Young Master Jian drew his sword. His aura flared—Foundation Establishment Stage 9. "Filth! You dare interrupt my wedding?"
"We are the guests of honor!" Gu Sha laughed, slicing a guard in half.
The battle was chaotic. The Divine Sword disciples were strong, specialized in offensive sword arts, but the Blood Devils were suicidal. They ignored wounds, fighting with a frenzy that terrified the orthodox cultivators.
"Protect the Saintess!" Jian shouted, slashing a Blood Devil in two.
He turned toward the palanquin.
But standing on top of the red silk roof was a figure.
He wore black robes that seemed to drink the light. A white porcelain mask covered his face. In his hand, he held a black sword that hummed with a hungry vibration.
"You..." Jian froze. He sensed the danger. This man wasn't a grunt. He was an abyss.
"Young Master Jian," Mo Tian bowed mockingly. "I object to this union."
"Who are you?!" Jian roared, launching a beam of sword light. "Divine Sword Art: Heaven Pierce!"
Mo Tian didn't dodge. He raised his left hand.
[Purple Nether Flame.]
A wall of purple fire materialized, consuming the sword light instantly.
"I am the groom," Mo Tian whispered.
He vanished.
He reappeared directly in front of Jian, floating in the air.
Jian reacted instantly, his sword stabbing toward Mo Tian's throat. He was a genius, trained since birth. His reaction speed was perfect.
But Mo Tian cheated.
[Skill: Soul Puppet Thread.]
An invisible thread wrapped around Jian's wrist, yanking it two inches to the right.
The stab missed Mo Tian's neck by a hair.
"What?" Jian gasped.
Mo Tian punched.
His fist, wrapped in Villain Qi and the physical strength of a Beast King, slammed into Jian's stomach.
CRACK.
Jian's armor shattered. His ribs turned to powder. He bent double, vomiting blood and bile.
"Weak," Mo Tian said.
He grabbed Jian by the hair and slammed his knee into the Young Master's face.
Jian flew backward, crashing into the side of the palanquin. He slid down the silk, leaving a smear of blood.
"Young Master!" The Divine Sword guards tried to rush to his aid, but Xue Yao (The Blood Empress) dropped from the sky, her massive Zanbato creating a shockwave that blew them back.
"Eyes on me, boys," Xue Yao grinned, her armor slick with gore.
Mo Tian landed on the ground next to the groaning Jian.
Inside the palanquin, Yan Luo screamed. It was a terrified, high-pitched scream.
"Help! Someone save him!"
She threw open the curtains, looking at Jian with wide, tear-filled eyes.
"Jian! Get up!"
Jian looked at his bride. He saw her terror. He felt a surge of adrenaline. I have to protect her!
He tried to stand, channeling his life force.
"Stay down," Mo Tian stepped on Jian's chest.
He looked at Yan Luo.
"You scream beautifully, Saintess," Mo Tian distorted his voice.
He reached down and ripped the Divine Sword Token from Jian's belt. Then, he grabbed Jian by the throat and lifted him into the air.
"Let him go!" Yan Luo cried, throwing a weak wind blade at Mo Tian.
Mo Tian slapped the attack away casually.
"He is coming with me," Mo Tian announced to the battlefield. "If the Divine Sword Sect wants him back... bring the Heaven-Splitter Fragment to the peak of Mount Desolation in three days."
"If you don't..." Mo Tian tightened his grip, making Jian gag. "I will mail him back to you in pieces."
"Retreat!" Mo Tian commanded.
Gu Sha and Xue Yao disengaged instantly. They grabbed the dowry chests—filled with spirit stones and artifacts—and vanished into the black fog.
Mo Tian threw a smoke bomb.
"Don't worry, Saintess," Mo Tian whispered to Yan Luo before he vanished. "You're a widow now. It suits you."
The fog cleared.
The Weeping Valley was a ruin. Bodies littered the road. The dowry was gone. The groom was gone.
Yan Luo fell to her knees in the wreckage, sobbing into her hands.
But she wasn't crying for Jian. She was crying because, for the first time in her life, she felt a thrill. The adrenaline of the heist. The perfection of the lie.
She looked at the devastation and realized with horror: I enjoyed it.