The Blood Lust Forest swallowed sound.
Even Parth's footsteps felt muted, as if the earth itself wanted to hide his presence. He stumbled through roots and thorned vines, breathing in sharp gulps. The golden badge clutched in his fist tugged at him like a living thing.
His ribs ached from where the guards had beaten him. His shoulder throbbed where the whip tore flesh. His left side felt numb, his right arm still stained with streaks of dried blood.
"If that guard had even basic white mana…" Parth muttered, breath trembling, "I would've died instantly."
He wiped his face and realized his fingers came away wet.
Tears.
He hadn't even noticed them falling.
"Mother… why did this happen to me…?"
His voice cracked, swallowed by the forest.
✦ ✦ ✦
A cold ripple passed over the trees.
Suddenly—
the world snapped like a mirror breaking.
A vision burst into Parth's mind:
Hands holding him down.
Ritual circles blazing red.
Dozens of ghostly silhouettes chanting.
Needles of bone piercing his spine.
Blood draining from his tiny body.
Bones melting into mist.
Mana being exhaled out of him like stolen breath—
and forced into another child's empty shell.
Parth gasped and slammed onto the dirt, clutching his skull.
"Stop—! STOP!"
The vision vanished.
His breath hitched. His fingers shook.
"I'll come back," Parth whispered, voice small but burning. "Even if what was taken never returns… I will find the truth."
He pushed himself up and continued running.
✦ ✦ ✦
A metallic scent hit him.
Strong.
Rotting.
Human.
A blood formation bloomed beneath his feet—strange symbols carving themselves into the soil without any hand touching them.
The forest darkened.
A laugh echoed—demonic and playful.
"Hehehehe…
Hehahhahaha…
How weak humans have become…"
Parth stepped back, instinct prickling up his spine.
A SPLASH rang from behind him—like someone dropping meat into water.
He spun—
RIP.
A strip of skin peeled from his torso, sliding off his ribs.
"AAAHHHH!"
He screamed and fell onto one knee.
"Hehehe… look how easily it tears…"
SPLASH.
SPLASH.
More skin peeled. His forearm. His back. His side.
Like invisible hands were plucking him apart.
Parth clawed at the ground, voice cracking into sobs.
"STOP—PLEASE—"
"Hehehehe… scream more… I like it…"
Suddenly—
His chest thumped.
A pulse so violent his entire ribcage rattled.
Something awakened.
The air in front of him shimmered—
and a figure stepped out of the mist.
Tall.
Lean.
Human-shaped.
Eyes glowing with corrupted mana.
Skin gray with red veins writhing underneath like parasites.
A Yaksha.
The old man's voice returned like a whisper from the grave:
"Blood Lust Forest hides Yakshas… "Yakshas were once guardians.
Some lost their oath.
What remains after that… should not be called Yaksha anymore."
The Yaksha tilted its head.
Its smile widened until its cheeks split.
Then—
Shuuuuuuuuuuueeeeee—
The Yaksha vanished.
Parth barely blinked before—
POP.
His left eye burst.
A stream of blood sprayed out.
Parth shrieked.
His knees buckled.
His hands clawed his face, warm blood pouring between his fingers.
"AAAGHHHHHHHHHH!"
The Yaksha's laughter echoed, loving the pain.
Parth collapsed backward—unconsciousness crushing him—
but his chest throbbed again.
Red energy exploded out of his sternum.
His right eye snapped open.
The pupil shifted from human black to glowing blood-red.
Red and white energy poured out of him:
White energy crawled across his peeled skin, closing wounds at terrifying speed.
Red energy burned through his veins like molten metal.
His left eye stayed destroyed—dry, empty, hollow.
The Yaksha darted again.
Parth wasn't in control—
the red force was.
It jerked his arms upward—
RIP—
and tore more skin from his shoulder just to surge power faster.
"Yessss… hurt more…" the Yaksha whispered.
Parth's vision blurred—
but the red power moved without thought.
CRACK!
His arm exploded at the elbow.
Bone fragments spun outward.
Blood splashed like red rain.
Parth howled—
But his arm rebuilt itself.
Bone reformed.
Flesh twisted back.
Skin stretched tight.
The Yaksha's grin vanished.
Parth's newly formed arm shot forward—
a spear made of bone, blood, and white energy sealing together.
GHWAK!
The Yaksha's torso tore open.
Its ribs split.
Its spine snapped.
Its organs collapsed like wet clay.
Blue energy—Yaksha's corrupted essence—left the melting corpse and streamed into Parth's empty left eye socket.
His body jerked.
And he fell unconscious again.
✦ ✦ ✦
"Ahh—ahhh—"
He woke choking.
He grabbed his face.
"My eye… Yaksha… was that a dream?"
But the blue flame still flickered faintly where his left eye once was.
His badge pulsed again—quiet but urgent.
Parth didn't speak.
He didn't think.
He just followed.
✦ ✦ ✦
A towering black wall appeared through the fog.
A lotus emblem—massive, carved deep—loomed like a silent threat.
Parth stared upward, confused.
"How do I even enter—"
A voice cut through the cold air.
"Didn't expect you to take this long."
Parth turned sharply.
The masked man from Jade Lake stood behind him.
"You—" Parth exhaled.
"Go inside," the man said. "Show them this scroll. And remember—if you want to survive, win."
He tossed Parth a sealed scroll.
✦ ✦ ✦
Inside, guards examined the scroll with raised brows—and led him toward a huge stone arena carved from black rock.
Hundreds watched.
Clan colors.
Silent judges.
A cold wind whispering through banners.
A boy stepped forward—smug, confident, wearing the Bane clan's crest.
"Darsh Bane," someone announced. "Fifth clan's young master."
Opposite him—
"White Meteor."
Parth blinked.
"White… what?"
The masked man's voice echoed internally:
"That's your name now."
✦ ✦ ✦
Rules:
No killing
No cultivation
Sneak attacks allowed
No family special powers
Fight until one yields
"BEGIN!"
Darsh smirked.
"A filthy kid like you joining the Dark Lotus Sect? Laughable."
Parth lowered his gaze.
"What? Too scared to—"
BOOOOM!
Parth's fist smashed into his jaw.
Darsh spun backward, eyes wide.
"You—BASTARD—"
Parth surged forward.
BOOM.
BOOM.
BOOM-BOOM.
Blows rained down like a storm.
Darsh's cheek ballooned.
Blood flew from his nose.
His lip split open.
The crowd roared—half cheering, half horrified.
Darsh staggered to his feet, face twisted with rage.
A strange sound echoed:
phiiisssh… phiiisssh…
High above, a Heaven Thunderbird was released.
Lightning crackled over its wings.
It dove straight at Parth.
Parth froze. His breath locked.
He shut his eyes—
CRRRRACK—KRRRSSHH—BOOOOOOM!
The thunderbird shattered against an unseen force around Parth.
Ash spiraled across the arena.
Darsh's face drained of color.
"What—WHAT ARE YOU?!"
He rushed with a spear.
Parth stepped in, grabbed the weakest joint—
CRK.
—and snapped Darsh's wrist sideways.
Darsh screamed, collapsing.
The arena fell silent.
Then—
"He wins," an elder declared. "White Meteor is chosen."
Darsh's father tried to intervene, but another elder blocked him coldly.
"You lost. Accept it."
✦ ✦ ✦
The masked man approached Parth again.
"From today," he said, "you are White Meteor. Survive the Lotus Sect… or die inside it."
Parth followed him through the sect's massive halls—murals of ancient slaughter, statues of lotus petals shaped like blades, training yards silent as graveyards.
Finally, the masked man stopped.
"This room is yours. Your training begins at dawn. There will be no mercy. Earn your place."
Parth accepted the scroll again, hand trembling slightly.
Behind him, the old man's voice whispered from memory:
Break the chains. Break the world if you must.
Parth stepped inside his quarters.
He wasn't a prisoner anymore.
He wasn't prey.
He wasn't a scared child.
He was becoming something the world would regret creating.