Terror, thick and suffocating, hung over the gathered crowd like a shroud.
The group of Exorcists, men and women who had spent their lives hunting the supernatural, now found themselves the prey. They were hemmed in, encircled by the diminutive Elder and his brood of monstrosities. Escape was a fantasy; survival seemed an even more distant dream.
Surrounding them were the disciples of the Yellow Wind Valley, but they were no longer human. They had undergone the Fiend Demon Transformation. Their bodies were warped, their skin callous and dark, emanating a palpably malevolent aura that made the very air taste of copper and rot.
The Exorcists racked their brains, desperate to understand the logic behind this nightmare. Why force them to join? Why coerce them into this grotesque brotherhood? If they succumbed and accepted the method of the Evil Fiend, they would become pariahs. Every orthodox faction in the realm would hunt them down. To accept was to sign a death warrant; to refuse was to die immediately.
"Enough," the short, thin Elder barked, his patience evaporating. "I have given you time to make your peace with fate. Now, I will choose for you."
His bony finger extended, pointing at a trembling man in the front row. "You. Begin immediately."
The singled-out Exorcist nearly collapsed. "Elder, please," he stammered, his voice cracking. "I… I am of no use to you. My bloodline is thin; I have no potential for cultivation. I don't wish to compete for your blood sacrifices. Please, just let me go. I swear a Blood Poison Curse right now—I will never speak a word of this!"
"So," the Elder's eyes narrowed into reptilian slits, a cold glint shining within. "You refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit?"
Whoosh.
The Elder moved with a speed that defied his age. In a blur, he was upon the man. His hand, now swollen and covered in coarse hair like a bear's paw, clamped around the Exorcist's throat. He lifted the man effortlessly into the air, a feral grin splitting his face.
"If you have no use," the Elder whispered, "then you have no life."
Boom.
A scream tore from the Exorcist's throat, a sound of pure agony that was cut short abruptly. His body convulsed, and then, horrifically, began to deflate. It was as if an invisible pump had been attached to his veins. In seconds, the vitality was ripped from him, his skin sucking tight against his bones. He was discarded onto the snow, a husk of dry leather and brittle bone.
The remaining Exorcists recoiled, a collective gasp of horror rippling through them.
The Elder licked his lips, staining them a deeper scarlet. "Gentlemen," he purred, turning to the trembling crowd. "Do you all wish to end up like dry firewood?"
"No! Don't kill me!" one man shrieked, his will breaking. "I'll listen! I'll do whatever you say! But… but I don't know how to consume blood!"
"Ignorance is no sin," the Elder chuckled, a dry, rattling sound. "My children will teach you."
He gestured to a disciple standing nearby, a creature already deep in the throes of the Fiend Demon Transformation. The disciple stepped forward, his voice a gravelly rasp. "Come with me. I'll show you how to feed."
Shaking uncontrollably, the broken Exorcist followed the monster into the shadows. Seeing this, the dam broke. One by one, terrified men and women stepped forward, surrendering their humanity to save their skins. They were led away into the darkness, sheep being herded by wolves.
Finally, a transformed disciple turned his gaze to a tall, silent figure at the back.
"You're next," the disciple sneered. "Move."
Jiang Dao did not move. He stood like a statue carved from granite, his brow furrowed in thought.
"I'm just wondering," Jiang Dao said, his voice calm amidst the panic. "Why go to such lengths? Why force so many people to learn your arts? Is it charity? Or is there a deeper, uglier conspiracy at play here?"
The disciple paused, stunned by the audacity. He whipped around, eyes burning with killing intent. "Curiosity kills, fool. Do not ask questions you cannot survive the answers to."
"Is that so?" Jiang Dao's lips curled into a slow, mocking smile. "But I insist."
"You seek death!"
The disciple's patience snapped. He vanished from his spot, reappearing inches from Jiang Dao's face. A claw, sharp enough to shear steel, slashed toward Jiang Dao's eyes, accompanied by a sonic boom.
Boom!
There was a wet, heavy thud.
The claw never landed. The disciple looked as though he had slammed into a mountain moving at high velocity. His body didn't just break; it detonated. Limbs, viscera, and bone fragments erupted outward in a gruesome shower of gore.
Jiang Dao stood amidst the falling rain of blood, casually shaking his hand clean. His expression cooled, his eyes turning into pools of frigid indifference.
"I suppose if you won't tell me," Jiang Dao said, addressing the stunned silence, "I'll just have to beat the answers out of you. I intended to keep a low profile a while longer, but you people are insistent."
Heat began to radiate from him. It wasn't just body heat; it was a furnace blast. Steam hissed from his nose and mouth.
The surrounding monsters froze. The Elder stared, his face draining of color.
"Who are you?" the Elder shouted, his voice pitching up in alarm.
Jiang Dao smiled, a terrifying expression that stretched wide, revealing too many teeth. "What? You don't recognize an old friend?"
The Elder's eyes went wide with recognition and horror. "You! You're the intruder from the forbidden grounds last night! The one hit by the Blood Dragon Burst!"
He shrieked the command: "Kill him! Take him down!"
It was inconceivable. A direct hit from the Protector's ultimate technique should have reduced this man to ash. How was he standing? How was he unscathed?
Dozens of transformed disciples snapped out of their stupor. With guttural roars, they charged. The air grew heavy with their combined murderous intent, a swarm of claws and fangs descending on one man.
"A mischief of rats," Jiang Dao murmured.
He flexed his muscles.
BOOM!
The air ignited.
A Fire Poison Field, vast and suffocating, exploded outward from Jiang Dao's core. The ground shook as waves of thermal energy and toxic miasma rolled over the attackers. The pressure was immense, a gravitational well of heat that brought the charging monsters to a grinding halt. They were frozen in place, pinned by an aura far more terrifying than their own.
Jiang Dao walked through the field, his hair flowing wildly behind him like black flame. He stood nearly seven feet tall, a titan of muscle and violence.
"So weak," he sighed.
He lashed out with a casual backhand.
Smack!
The strike carried the force of a collapsing building. It connected with a monster's chest, caving the ribcage inward until the spine snapped out the back. The creature exploded into a mist of blood and bone.
Jiang Dao extended his tongue, tasting a droplet of blood that had landed on his cheek. "Disappointing," he muttered. "I expected more flavor."
Whoosh!
A piercing whistle cut through the air from behind.
One of the captives, a middle-aged man who had seemingly surrendered earlier, launched a surprise attack. His body ballooned, skin turning the color of burnished brass. He had triggered a high-level transformation, his mass doubling as he drove a golden claw toward Jiang Dao's exposed spine.
Clang!
The sound of metal striking metal rang out. Jiang Dao's shirt disintegrated, but his skin remained flawless. Not even a white mark was left.
The brass-skinned attacker's pupils contracted to pinpoints. "Impossible..."
"Is it fun?" Jiang Dao glanced over his shoulder, his face a mask of cruelty.
He spun, his hand expanding, fingers curling into a monstrous claw of his own. He slapped the man.
The brass giant tried to block, crossing his arms and hardening his muscles into a shield.
Dong!
It was the sound of a temple bell being struck by a battering ram. The attacker was launched backward, flying dozens of meters. His arms, harder than steel a moment ago, shattered. Muscles burst, bones splintered into dust.
Before the man could even hit the ground, Jiang Dao vanished.
He reappeared behind the airborne victim. A fist, glowing with thermal energy, slammed down. A shockwave, visible to the naked eye, rippled through the air.
The brass man felt the shadow of death eclipse him.
"Formless Divine Force!"
Thwip-thwip-thwip!
Desperate, the brass man ejected blades of compressed air from his pores—a hidden defense mechanism. Thousands of invisible razors slashed at Jiang Dao.
They shattered against Jiang Dao's aura like glass against a rock.
Jiang Dao's fist connected with the man's spine.
Crack.
The sound was nauseating. The kinetic force traveled through the skeletal structure, pulverizing vertebrae, ribs, and sternum in a chain reaction of destruction. The man folded in half the wrong way, vomiting a geyser of blood before crashing into the earth, paralyzed and broken.
Jiang Dao landed softly. He didn't even look at the broken body. His eyes were fixed on the horizon, where a streak of white light was fleeing.
The short Elder had abandoned his disciples and run.
"I tried to give you a chance," Jiang Dao said, his voice carrying over the distance.
He clenched his fist, extinguishing the Fire Poison Field. The monsters trapped within it were instantly crushed by the collapsing pressure, reduced to a fine red mist.
Jiang Dao grabbed the paralyzed brass man by the ankle, hoisted him like a sack of potatoes, and blurred into motion.
He closed the distance to the fleeing Elder in seconds.
"Leaving so soon?"
Jiang Dao's hand chopped through the air. A blade of pure Gang energy, two meters wide and shimmering with heat, tore through the sky.
The Elder screamed, initiating his transformation in a panic, expanding into a giant beast. It didn't matter. The energy blade struck him, burying him in the earth in an explosion of fire and dirt.
In the aftermath, the scene outside the small town was one of absolute panic.
The surviving Exorcists, having witnessed Jiang Dao's godlike violence, didn't stick around to thank him. They scattered like roaches exposed to light.
"Run! Yellow Wind Valley is compromised!"
"They're cultivating forbidden arts! Flee!"
Jiang Dao ignored them. He dragged his two captives—the paralyzed brass man and the half-dead Elder—to a secluded ravine miles away. He dropped them onto the frozen ground.
He knew the drill. These men were rigged to blow. If they revealed core secrets, the blood curses in their veins would activate, spawning maggots that would eat them from the inside out. He had to be surgical.
"Your Cult Master," Jiang Dao began, looming over the Elder. "How strong is he?"
The Elder wheezed, clutching a chest wound that exposed his pulsing organs. "Unfathomable... I don't know... please..."
"If he were truly omnipotent, he wouldn't be hiding," Jiang Dao deduced coldly. "I broke into his sanctuary. If he could have killed me, he would have. Who attacked me last night?"
"The Protector..." the Elder gasped. "The Cult Master's shadow..."
"And the hierarchy?"
"Master... Protector... Four Blood Guards..." The Elder pointed a trembling finger at the paralyzed man. "He is the Copper Guard. Above him, Gold and Silver. Below, Iron."
"Why the recruitment drive?" Jiang Dao pressed. "Why force outsiders to turn?"
"We are leaving White Spirit Prefecture," the Elder confessed, sweat mixing with the blood on his face. "We needed scapegoats. Someone has to take the blame for the disappearances to distract the authorities."
"Bait," Jiang Dao spat. "Fine."
He leaned in close. "Swear the Blood Poison Curse to me. Serve me, help me find the Purple Spirit Flower, and you live."
The Elder's eyes widened. "The Purple Spirit Flower? Who are you?"
"Irrelevant."
Defeated, the Elder slapped his own forehead, spitting blood to seal the oath. Satisfied, Jiang Dao executed the Copper Guard with a flick of his finger—a mercy kill—and then extracted the fire poison from the Elder's wounds, allowing him to heal.
"Let's go," Jiang Dao commanded. "Back to the Valley. Act natural."
The return was somber.
Night deepened, bringing with it a strange weather phenomenon. Snow began to fall, but it wasn't natural. The flakes were heavy, carrying a biting chill that seeped into the soul—Yin energy.
"Did you summon this?" Jiang Dao asked, catching a snowflake.
"No," the Elder whispered, terrified. "I've never seen this."
They returned to their quarters in silence. Jiang Dao feigned sleep, but his senses were stretched to their limit.
The night passed in an uneasy fugue.
At first light, a scream shattered the silence.
Jiang Dao's eyes snapped open. He launched himself from his bed, following the sound. He arrived at a courtyard, kicking the heavy door off its hinges.
Inside lay the Elder.
He was dead. Not killed by violence, but drained. A husk.
Jiang Dao's expression darkened. The organization had cleaned house. They knew the Elder was compromised, yet they hadn't extracted information—they just hit the kill switch.
Cautious, Jiang Dao thought. Dangerous.
He rushed out, scanning the valley. It was empty. The towering pagodas, the courtyards, the mess halls—all deserted. The hundreds of Exorcists, the disciples, everyone had vanished into the snow.
"Did they liquidate the bait?" Jiang Dao wondered, frustration mounting. He felt like a tiger trapped in a cage of mist. He wanted a fight, a war, but his enemies were smoke.
Suddenly, a boom echoed from the eastern wall.
Chaos. Footsteps. Desperation.
Jiang Dao moved, his silhouette dissolving into the wind.
Hundreds of meters away, a Daoist priest named Qing Song was running for his life. He was ragged, coughing blood, his deception techniques failing him.
Behind him, a streak of crimson light pursued him—a living blood shadow.
"A rat from the Divine Martial Sect," the voice from the blood shadow screeched. "Your feigned death was clever. But not clever enough!"
Whoosh!
The blood shadow lunged, a claw of condensed gore reaching for the priest's neck.
It never reached him.
The wall beside them exploded.
Bricks turned to dust as a figure barreled through the masonry. Jiang Dao intercepted the attack, his demonic claw wreathed in heat and kinetic fury.
"You!" The voice inside the blood shadow shrieked, recognizing the intruder. "Impossible! You survived the Blood Dragon Burst?"
"Survived?"
Jiang Dao roared, his arm acting like a pile driver.
BOOM!
He smashed the blood shadow. The force was cataclysmic. The entity within the red light didn't just fly back; it crumpled. Bones snapped like dry twigs, and the figure was blasted backward, tumbling across the snow like a discarded rag doll.
Jiang Dao stood amidst the settling dust, steam rising from his shoulders.
"I didn't just survive," he growled. "I'm just getting warmed up."