The dark clouds paraded across the sky in the middle of the day, preparing to rain. Among the lush foliage, a bronze-colored man desperately rushed through the infamous weeping forest, lunging from branch to branch in a hurry.
Intrinsic, blurs of brown and green swooshed by him, moving at a startling speed, feeling lighter than a feather, while being hunted down like a rabid dog. This individual had been on the run for several days now.
Reminiscing, Zeke was cruelly reminded that his past comfort was just a delusion and a falsehood to the greater powers that be. With his mind in a frenzy, he deeply regretted growing complacent in his cultivation efforts.
When soaring near the peak of the mortal realm, fifty years ago. At 141 years of age now. Zeke's appearance remained that of a middle-aged man in his 40s. A feat that was only possible through the effects of cultivating.
In the past, this martial world was alien to Stephen when he first Transmigrated as Zeke Samus. A ten-year-old bastard offspring of the Elemental sect's patriarch. Sang-Law of the Samus lineage.
Thinking of his so-called father, Zeke ground his teeth in anger. Knowing Lord Samus was the main reason he found himself in this life-or-death situation. Before he could curse him out to death in his head, Zeke unexpectedly let out a gut-wrenching yell as his momentum was abruptly disrupted.
His blood spurted out profusely, spinning in the air like a rag doll from up high, overcome by an unimaginable burning sensation that engulfed his left side. Zeke fell harshly onto the ground with a hollow thud.
Tightly clutching onto his shoulder, where his left arm was completely severed. Riving in sheer agony, he finally laid eyes on one of his vaunted pursuers mocking him.
" Looking for this?"
The man Zeke knew all too well said in a heavy tone, nonchalantly holding his torn arm. Having silver hair with shark-like teeth and golden eyes, the assailant wore a mixture of blue and silver silk armor as he continued,
" My misguided younger brother, how did it come to this?"
Without giving his questions much thought, Zeke dryly smiled with a grimace,
" Tsk, you tell me."
In that same instance, a crimson light shone ominously from the detached arm that his older brother Fang dangled. Within the next second, a large blood-like scythe sprouted from the open wound, swiftly aiming for Fang's neck.
Caught slightly off guard, he barely avoided the attack by letting go of the rampaging arm, amidst taking an elongated leap backwards.
However, this result already fell under Zeke's expectations. Soon, the Blood Scythe made from his flesh changed into a strange husk, quickly stretching back towards him. He was able to reattach his arm instantly. Zeke then sprang back to his feet as if the prior occurrence had never taken place.
Not letting up, Fang countered. Imbuing his hand and forearm with blades of wind, he closed the distance faster than a swift gust.
They collided as Zeke reactivated the Blood Scythe on impact. Being forced back several meters, Zeke began to lose ground due to the strength gap.
Even though they were both at Stage 5, just outside the cusp of becoming Immortal, the difference in power between them was akin to putting a snake vs a mongoose. Factoring in the three Ranks that accompany every Stage, which include Disciple, Master, and Grandmaster.
Zeke remained at the 'Disciple Rank' while Fang was a 'Master'. Given the logic of this world, his loss was pretty much a foregone conclusion without any added assistance.
" Zeke! Why do you continue to persist in this useless struggle of yours? Haven't you brought about enough shame to our sect and ancestors?"
Fang asked as Zeke was faltering under the pressure his brother emitted. Unsure if he was just unaware of their father's schemes or just adding salt to an already open wound. At this moment in time, Zeke couldn't be pressed to read between the lines.
Whether Fang believed he was framed or not, it didn't matter. His allegiance, along with that of their other seven siblings, belonged solely to Lord Samus unconditionally.
In a society where people were usually led to act on their base desires and self-interest. The breaking point between Orthodox, Unorthodox, and Demonic Factions lay in how they presented themselves to the masses.
Behind closed doors, there were rarely any Heroes with justice in their hearts. The majority of these world leaders were just pure Hypocrites, upholding rotten alliances.
" Well, what else would you expect from someone labeled as the 'black sheep' since birth? I'm just doing all I can to live up to that revered title of mine."
Zeke bitterly remarked, gradually accepting the villain role that was thrown upon him. He was ashamed to believe that his many achievements and contributions could truly garner him peace of mind.
After scratching and clawing for his respect. When he finally secured the status of an elder, over half a century ago. The admiration and privileges that followed paved the way for his primal instincts to wane around these venomous snakes.
"Ungrateful trash!"
Fang shouted in anger as he shattered the blood scythe, piercing his hand through Zeke's abdomen. Coughing up blood, Zeke smiled, grasping onto the arm that impaled him.
He then attempted to infuse a deadly poison into Fang's Spiritual Root, which was at the center of where all Martial Cultivators mustered their Qi. Before Fang had a chance to respond or pull away from his grasp.
Zeke unleashed a slew of poisonous blood needles from his entire body, resembling a porcupine. Hitting the mark, Fang forcefully separated himself from Zeke, staggering away as he exclaimed,
" Damn, demonic bastard! I'll..."
His words were cut short as Zeke dissolved into a red puddle. This promptly ended the shared vision and connection obtained by Zeke's Blood Clone on his command.
Immediately after, his remaining senses returned to his original body, slithering several meters underground using the Earth Dragon technique.
Moving through the compacted dirt like it was air, Zeke had decided to split off onto an alternate path from his clone a couple of days before the manhunt had first begun.
Fast-forwarding to the present, he now bolted free, thousands of miles in the opposite direction.
Purposely leaving a small but noticeable trail for his pursuers to bite the bait of his clone's whereabouts, instead of himself.
Savoring the last bewildered expression that his older brother exhibited, without warning, his muscles stiffened, succumbing to a delayed onslaught of torment.
Still underground, the surge of visceral anguish that Zeke's clone had experienced reverted. Taking half the tool, he endured the uncontrollable convulsions that threatened to rip him apart. Battling this side effect for a few more minutes, Zeke finally recovered well enough to continue onward.
Having a set goal in mind of seeking refuge under the intel and assassin network he'd established under a different identity in his younger years. He was within half a day of crossing its border towards his desired destination.
The Central Plain was the ideal location to start anew during the current state of affairs. Knowing the Elemental sect influence would be greatly diminished in that particular territory.
'Soon enough, this living nightmare where I had to hide and look over my shoulders like a frightened rat will subside.'
Thinking about the future, an eerie premonition crept to mind, sending a chill down Zeke's spine. On cue, he felt an earth-shattering quake, violently uprooting him from the deep soil underneath. A deafening boom, followed by a large cloud of dust, left a large crater in its wake.
Inside Zeke's mangled body was left at the center of it all. Struggling to breathe as blood poured into his lungs. A familiar voice rang out, invoking utter dread.
" Where do you think you're scurrying off to, Zeke?"