"Where do you think you're scurrying off to, Zeke?"
The man known as Lord Samus bellowed in his usual imposing fashion.
As a Stage 5 Grandmaster who had lived for over four centuries, he had every reason to look down upon most individuals in this world. Zeke was no exception.
The massive cloud of dust hanging over the crater gradually dispersed, revealing the patriarch in full.
Even before the betrayal, Zeke had always viewed him more as the Elemental Sect's patriarch than as a loving father.
Samus's gray hair was tied into a neat knot, while a long beard draped over his green-and-gold battle armor. His thick brows framed a pair of piercing golden eyes that seemed capable of seeing through a person's soul.
Hovering nearly a hundred meters above the ground, artificial white wings illuminated the dim sky behind him.
Meanwhile, Zeke lay in a mangled heap below, several fractured bones protruding through his bronze skin.
"Did you truly believe you could escape my wrath?"
Samus's voice thundered across the forest.
"After sacrificing thousands of innocents for your abominable blood ritual, I can no longer show mercy. Son or not, anyone who endangers the lives we swore to protect must face judgment."
The nearby trees trembled beneath his declaration.
Struggling to remain conscious, Zeke could barely stomach the performance.
The man who had personally framed him was now preaching righteousness.
Why?
The answer revealed itself moments later.
Floating above Samus's shoulder was a teal orb.
Zeke immediately recognized the device.
A recording orb.
One capable of broadcasting everything within its range.
'Tsk...'
His lips curled into a bitter smile.
'So you intend to use me as the scapegoat until the very end.'
Forcing his thoughts into order, Zeke gathered what little Qi he could still command.
A crimson glow spread across his body.
Blood Phoenix.
A technique unique to him.
His shattered body began rewinding itself several minutes into the past. Bones slid back into place. Torn flesh mended. Within seconds, the grievous injuries vanished completely.
Born with the rare Blood Physique, Zeke possessed an unparalleled affinity for Blood Arts.
Unfortunately, Blood Arts were feared and condemned by most Orthodox factions.
For that reason alone, he had spent decades hiding his natural element from the public eye.
Now, backed into a corner, he no longer had that luxury.
"Hmph."
Samus narrowed his eyes.
"That technique reeks of Blood Arts. I'm ashamed that my love and negligence blinded me to the true source of your demonic inclinations."
The hypocrisy was almost impressive.
Zeke rose to his feet and met his father's gaze without fear.
Despite his composure, he knew the reality of the situation.
His escape plan had failed.
From the beginning, he had hoped his Blood Clone would buy enough time to reach the Central Plains.
Instead, he was standing face-to-face with the very monster he had hoped to evade.
"Tell me something."
Zeke's voice remained calm.
"How long have I been dancing in the palm of your hand?"
For the first time, a faint smile appeared on Samus's face.
"My son who strayed from the light, I should be the one asking you that."
He spread his arms dramatically.
"You were raised to uphold justice. You became a pillar of the Elemental Sect. Yet all the while, you concealed your crimes in the shadows."
A pause.
"Failing to recognize your deception is a burden I alone must bear as both your father and patriarch."
His voice grew louder.
"But let this day serve as a lesson to all who witness it. Today, I correct the greatest mistake of my life."
At the same time, a private Voice Transmission echoed within Zeke's mind.
'What a foolish question.'
The warmth instantly vanished.
'Isn't it obvious?'
'You've been beneath my thumb since the day you were born.'
'You were nothing more than an accident born from lust.'
'Something I could use... and discard whenever I pleased.'
'In the end, you've always been nothing more than a pawn.'
"Is that so..."
Zeke wasn't surprised.
Not really.
His origins had always been scorned.
As the son of a concubine blessed—or cursed—with a maligned physique, he had spent his entire life fighting for survival.
Many times, death had nearly claimed him.
Yet despite everything, he had clawed his way upward.
He became an elder.
He brought glory to the sect.
He completed countless missions.
Some foolish part of him had believed that eventually his efforts would matter.
That he had earned a place within the hierarchy.
Samus shattered that illusion with a few simple words.
No matter how much he accomplished, he had always been disposable.
Always.
'Very much so,' Samus continued.
'Though I will admit, you often exceeded my expectations when there were none to be found.'
His voice dripped with amusement.
'Now let's see whether your final moments can do the same.'
A laugh escaped Zeke.
'Hmph. Then who am I to disappoint such a righteous and mighty patriarch?'
Their private exchange ended.
Since Samus insisted on performing for his audience, Zeke decided to address them as well.
"For those watching from afar..."
His voice echoed through the forest.
"Do not be fooled by those you view as stars."
"Beyond the night sky is where their wickedness truly shines."
"A place where scheming hands hide behind carefully crafted delusions."
"Watch as I expose the faces hidden beneath their masks."
"Watch as I shatter the lies used to frame me."
"I, Zeke Samus, fight for my innocence."
"And I will reveal the ugly truth."
"That those currently in power are no heroes..."
His golden eyes locked onto Samus.
"Only hypocrites."
After finishing the impromptu poem, Zeke reached into the tattered sleeve of his red-and-black robe and retrieved a Spatial Pouch.
With a single thought, the pouch emitted a faint glow.
Dozens of familiar teal orbs shot into the air, rapidly dispersing to predetermined locations above the crater.
Samus watched with mild curiosity.
Moments later, countless images and video feeds began looping across the sky, forming a massive projection visible for miles.
The scenes depicted a catalog of atrocities.
Secret dealings with notorious demonic figures.
Torture.
Slave trafficking.
Mass executions.
Even genocide.
Nor was the Elemental Sect alone.
Prominent figures from numerous Orthodox sects and clans appeared throughout the recordings—individuals celebrated as paragons of justice and protectors of the common people.
The hypocrisy was impossible to ignore.
Zeke had obtained the evidence years ago from a trusted acquaintance within the Sword Sect.
One of the few good men left in an increasingly rotten orchard.
Jin Jo.
Unlike many who merely preached righteousness, Jin Jo genuinely believed in it.
He dedicated decades of his life to exposing the corruption festering within the Orthodox path.
Unfortunately, pursuing the truth earned him more enemies than allies.
As his investigation drew closer to the heart of the problem, Jin Jo became convinced that his death was approaching.
Before it could happen, he entrusted his findings—and much of his inheritance—to Zeke.
Not long afterward, news spread that Jin Jo had been assassinated.
Zeke never believed the official story.
If anything, he suspected the Sword Sect itself had orchestrated the murder.
"Well?"
A mocking grin spread across his face.
"How's this for a start?"
"You damn insolent mongrel!"
Samus's roar shook the air.
"Enough of these childish games!"
"I'll show you once and for all that fabricated evidence and underhanded tricks can never overcome true power!"
Raising a single finger toward the heavens, he condensed a portion of his vast Qi reserves into a blazing sphere of fire.
It resembled a miniature sun.
The surrounding temperature immediately spiked.
Then he pointed downward.
Thousands of incandescent sparks erupted from the burning sphere.
Like a meteor shower descending from the heavens, the attack rained across the crater.
Every teal orb was struck.
Every orb was destroyed.
Reduced to ash in an instant.
Yet something unexpected happened.
The projections didn't disappear.
Instead, the scattered images and recordings melted together, transforming into streams of crimson energy.
Ancient symbols ignited across the air.
A massive crimson barrier unfolded around Zeke.
Ancient orange script flowed along its surface like molten lava, forming an imposing defensive array.
The outside glowed blood-red.
The interior remained crystal clear.
Standing safely within the formation, Zeke couldn't suppress a smile when he saw the confusion flicker across Samus's face.
"Wow."
He laughed.
"After all these years, I believe this is the first gift you've ever given me."
His grin widened.
"If I didn't know any better, I might think you actually cared about this old dog."
Samus's expression darkened.
The patriarch's attack had served its true purpose.
The orbs had never been evidence alone.
They were catalysts.
Hidden throughout each orb was a specialized Absorption trigger that Zeke had painstakingly refined years ago.
Their purpose was simple.
Steal enough Qi from a powerful attack to activate the formation hidden beneath them.
Without Samus's overwhelming display of power, Zeke would never have possessed the energy necessary to activate the array.
Blood Sanctum.
A technique so demanding that it was typically reserved for specialized Stage 5 Grandmasters.
For the first time since this nightmare began, Zeke had successfully forced the patriarch to dance to his tune.
Unfortunately, he wasn't naïve enough to celebrate.
The satisfaction lasted only a moment.
'I hate to admit it, but he's right.'
His gaze hardened.
'My tricks can only carry me so far against a monster like him.'
The crimson barrier pulsed around him.
'At best, Blood Sanctum buys me time.'
'And even creating an opportunity to escape feels impossible right now.'