Meanwhile,
The air within the Blood Fiend Hall's main hall was negatively charged with electricity, heavy with the copper tang of blood and the cloying sweetness of incense meant to mask the stench of death.
Unlike the bright, open architecture of the orthodox Azure Cloud Sect, this place was a fortress of shadows and crimson stones formed by dried-up blood essences, built into the side of a desolate canyon miles away from the sect's protective formations.
Vice-Captain Jee knelt on the cold floor, his shattered arm bound in crude bandages that were already soaking through with dark red fluid. His face was pale, slick with cold sweat, but his eyes were burning with a mixture of humiliation and hatred. Outrageous, a newborn cub is really not afraid of the season wolf, unable to grasp the immensity of Mount Tai.
Sitting on a throne of black iron carved into the shape of a howling skull was Hall Master Xue Feng. He was a man of striking appearance—sharp features, hair as black as a raven's wing, and robes the color of dried blood.
His aura was suppressed, but even so, the pressure of a Soul Formation cultivator made the air in the room feel like it was vibrating.
"Speak," Xue Feng said, his voice smooth, lacking the booming anger of a lesser bloodthirsty tyrant. He held a white jade cup in one hand, sipping a dark liquid with grace.
"You have returned alone, injured, and without the debt or the woman. I assume there is a reasonable explanation."
Gulp!
Jee swallowed hard, keeping his head bowed. "My Lord... it was not a failure of strength, but a complication of identity."
He recounted the events quickly, his voice steady despite the pain. He didn't embellish, nor did he omit his own humiliation. To lie to Xue Feng was a fate worse than death.
..
"A white-haired youth," Xue Feng murmured, setting the cup down. "Direct disciple identity. Unsealed a defensive barrier with a mere tap. And he shattered your arm with a grip...hmm."
He tapped his finger on the armrest of his throne, a rhythmic, thoughtful sound. "You said he called the debt usury and claimed the protection of the Sect Elders. Yet, he did not cite a specific Elder's name."
"No, My Lord," Jee replied. "He acted with the arrogance of one who believes the rules do not apply to him. He did not threaten us with the Sect Master or the Enforcement Hall. He threatened us personally. He said that if we ever come close to the purple bamboo, he would wipe out Blood Fiend Hall."
Xue Feng's eyes narrowed, a cruel smirk forming on his lip. "Interesting. Newborn toads forever remained unknown to the world outside the well."
He stood up and walked to the edge of the dais, looking down at his subordinate with a cold glowing glint in his eyes. "Jee, you are a fool, but you are not weak. A peak Seventh-stage Foundation Establishment expert should not have been dispatched so easily by a new disciple, regardless of their talent. Unless... that talent is monstrous."
"My Lord," an elderly man in grey robes stepped out from the shadows. This was Elder Gu, the strategist of the Blood Fiend Hall. "I have been listening. This youth... his description matches the rumors circulating from the New Disciple who managed to emit purple light during spirit root testing evoking the vision of heaven and earth."
"It is rumoured that even his hair has grasped the meaning of Dao."
"Oh, rumors?" Xue Feng asked, turning his gaze to the old man with interest. Even hair has grasped the meaning of Dao?! Just what kind of concept is that?
"Yes. A disciple named Wang Tianmo," Elder Gu said, stroking his long beard. "White hair. Ruthless. He defeated a body cultivator with a single finger and nearly killed a favored candidate of the Black-robed Elder with a technique that mimics the sun just today, nearly an hour ago."
Xue Feng paused. "Wang Tianmo!? Hmm... I have not heard of this name before. Is he from the Inner Court?"
"No, My Lord. He is a direct disciple, Elder Xuan Ji took in," Elder Gu clarified, his voice raspy like dry leaves dragging over stone. "He has only been in the sect for a few weeks. And his cultivation seemed to have soared by leaps and bounds. It's better to kill him as soon as possible, or not make an enemy of him at all."
"Hmm..." Xue Feng let out a low, thoughtful hum, the sound vibrating in his chest. He walked back to his throne and sat down, his fingers interlaced under his chin. The crimson light of the hall cast long, dancing shadows across his face, making his expression unreadable, giving him a creepy aura.
"Elder Xuan Ji," Xue Feng recalled the name. That old man has been lying low for a few decades but that old man isn't someone you should mess with.
"The old hermit of the Azure Cloud Sect. A Nascent Soul powerhouse, yes, but he hasn't accepted a disciple in over two hundred years. He spends his days staring at clouds and carving useless wooden trinkets."
He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light.
"To take in a disciple now, and one with such... peculiar rumors surrounding him, suggests that this Wang Tianmo is not just a lucky brat. He might be a hidden card Xuan Ji is preparing to play against the other Elders. Hmm... What would that be?"
Think, Xue Feng. Think!
Elder Gu bowed slightly. "Your insight is profound, My Lord. If we strike at the disciple, we provoke the Old monster's wrath. Even with your cultivation at the Soul Formation realm, angering Xuan Ji would be nothing but foolishness."
Xue Feng waved his hand dismissively. "Indeed. However, I am quite curious as to why, Xuan Ji has taken a disciple at this moment. Old Man's identity is mysterious and his strength is unfathomable. He has been in the sect for years. Silently enjoying the resources. I don't think it's a simple matter. That kid might probably be a chess piece."
"My lord, you are wise. The Holy Lord's cultivation is unstable, the sect might cultivate a Holy Son soon. If this subordinate guesses correctly, then Elder Xuan Ji is probably trying to cultivate that brat as the upcoming Holy Son of Azure Cloud Sect. I sense a deeper game from Elder Xuan."
"Oh, deeper game. It seems Azure Cloud Sect will soon get bloody... Well, bloodshed is the fertilizer of the Dao," Xue Feng mused, a dark hunger flickering in his crimson eyes.
"If the Azure Cloud Sect intends to raise a Holy Son, then the balance of power in the region will shatter. The other three major sects will not sit idly by. They will sharpen their blades and wait for the first sign of weakness. There is even the potential of Civil war within the Elders."
"My Lord's knowledge knows no bounds. This humble servant suggests borrowing a sharp blade rather than forging one ourselves. In the struggle for Holy succession, the deaths of geniuses are only natural... One exists only to be used by another, surely there are other Great Elders as well trying to gain a footing in the game."
"Indeed," Xue Feng said, his voice turning colder, "Yet, what if we were to use this to our advantage? The Azure Cloud Sect is vast and powerful, but it is also divided. The Elders are wolves in silk robes, waiting for a chance to strike at each other's throats. If we can fan the flames of their greed and suspicion, perhaps we can carve out a piece for ourselves. This Wang Tianmo... If he is Xuan Ji's chosen one, then he is a weapon waiting to be wielded."
"But before we move, we need to confirm two things. First, the true extent of Wang Tianmo's strength. Second, the level of Xuan Ji's investment in him."
"Wise choice, my lord. If we can play our cards well, we can rise with the help of someone's ship." Elder Gu said, bowing low.
Xue Feng turned his gaze back to the kneeling Vice-Captain Jee. The man was trembling, not just from the pain, but from the realization that his failure had placed him on the precipice of death.
"Jee," Xue Feng said softly. "Your arm was the price of your incompetence. However, your information has bought you a second chance."
Jee let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Th-thank you, My Lord! This subordinate will not fail again!"
"It seems this Xue needs to visit Great Elder Xia soon."
"Haste makes waste, my lord... This servant recommends observing before making a final bet. In the chaos of Holy Son succession, the most opportune time to act is when the prey is already wounded. It isn't necessary to oppose this Wang brat directly. Even an enemy can serve as a pawn… or a fine stepping stone," Elder Gu added.
Xue Feng nodded, a cruel smile forming on his lips. "You are right, as always, Elder Gu. We don't necessarily need to go against that brat. If something can be used, we must use it..."
****
Tianmo remained completely unaware of the scheme unfolding in a certain corner of the world. He spent the afternoon in the simulation pagoda, practicing his martial art techniques.
The first chapter of Heavenly Finger was about Lethality: Concentrate the ocean into a drop. Compress the Dantian into a single meridian. The finger is not flesh; it is the spear of the gods.
The second chapter was about Qi Manipulation: The shape of the Qi determines its nature. A straight line is a spear. A curve is a crescent blade. A sphere is a hammer. The mind is the mold; the Qi is the clay.
And the third chapter—Lethality Manipulation, the combination of the first and second chapters.
The theory states: To control the shape is to control the flow. To control the flow is to control the outcome.
In the void of the Simulation Pagoda, Tianmo stood amidst a graveyard of metallic puppets. Hundreds of them lay broken, twisted heaps of scrap metal scattered across the obsidian platform.
He raised his left hand, his index finger pointing at a massive, towering golem charging towards him. The golem was made of Black Iron, its fist the size of a carriage.
"Lethality Manipulation."
Tianmo didn't just fire a beam. He visualized the Qi not as a stream, but as a coiling viper. He compressed the energy, twisting it within his meridians, infusing it with the rotational force of his unsealed Supreme Dao Bones.
Boom!
A golden arc of energy shot forward. It didn't travel in a straight line; it spiraled violently, drilling through the air with a high-pitched whine. The moment it touched the Black Iron Golem's chest, the rotational force exploded.
The golem's thick armor didn't just shatter; it twisted and deformed, torn apart by the spiraling energy like paper caught in a tornado. The attack penetrated deep into its core, obliterating the energy center.
It worked in the same mechanics as a black hole.
"Fuck... I am stupid."
Tianmo lowered his hand, sweat dripping from his forehead. The theoretical knowledge was one thing, but the execution was draining. Controlling the shape of the Qi at the moment of release required a level of mental focus that pushed even his strengthened soul to the limit.
What's more, he is doing it wrong. He is supposed to control the lethal flare as if it were part of his own body, but surprisingly the energy contracts and expands, sucking anything and everything in its path.
However, his mastery has increased as well.
[Heavenly Finger-I: Great success.]
The simulation dissolved around him, the graveyard of metal puppets fading into the familiar, dimly lit contours of his cultivation chamber. Tianmo opened his eyes, exhaling a long, ragged breath.
His spiritual energy was depleted, his meridians aching from the strain of forcing the Qi into unnatural shapes. The 'Lethality Manipulation' of the third chapter was a profound concept, essentially trying to manipulate the laws of physics with spiritual energy. Creating a rotational singularity was the theory, but in practice, it was like trying to hold a star in the palm of his hand.
"It seems quite a time has passed..."
It was still evening, but the sun had long dipped behind the mountain peaks, leaving the sky painted in bruising shades of violet and deep indigo.
He could hear the distant sounds of the night insects and the soft rustle of the bamboo in the evening breeze. It seems it is going to rain tonight.
He stood up, his muscles stiff from sitting for so long. As he stretched, he felt the familiar ache of his Supreme Dao Bones. They were waking up, slowly, responding to the stress he had put on his body.
There was a knock on the door.
"Master," Ruyan's voice came through the wooden barrier, soft and tentative. "The guest is ready."
"Good." Tianmo straightened his robes, smoothing out the wrinkles. "Both of you, come in."
The door slid open, and Ruyan stepped aside to let Madam Lin enter first. She had changed into the red dress Ruyan had given her, the fabric clinging to her curves like a second skin. Her hair was pinned up, exposing the delicate line of her neck, and her face was flushed a deep, enticing crimson.
"Master," she said, bowing low. "I am ready to serve."
Tianmo looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on the swell of her breasts, the way the fabric strained against her hips. She looked good. Better than good. She looked like a woman ready to be devoured.
Ruyan had prepared herself meticulously. She had bathed her in a mixture of hot water and spirit herbs, scrubbing her skin until it glowed. She had massaged her muscles, working out the tension and stress, and then applied oils to make her skin glisten like polished jade.
She had even applied a small amount of aphrodisiac incense, just enough to make her pupils dilate slightly, to make her movements fluid and graceful.
"You look... Well... Quite acceptable," Tianmo said, his voice a low purr. He turned to Ruyan. "You did well."
Ruyan knelt by the door, her head bowed. "This servant is glad to have pleased you, Master."
"Good. You both shall serve me tonight... How about making me excited first? How about dancing? I want to see you both dancing seductively..."
Both of them froze for a second. Then, they exchanged a look, and their bodies began to move.
Madam Lin's eyes were downcast, but her movements were practiced. She had danced before, many years ago, to entertain guests at the tavern. But that had been different, a performance of elegance and grace.
This was different.
She moved slowly, her hips swaying, her hands gliding over her body. She traced the curve of her waist, the swell of her breasts, the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. She kept her eyes lowered, focusing on Tianmo's face, trying to gauge his reaction.
Ruyan, on the other hand, moved like water. Her movements were fluid, precise, each gesture designed to tease and entice. She spun and twirled, her red silk dress flaring around her thighs, giving tantalizing glimpses of her pale skin. She didn't look at Madam Lin, nor did she look at Tianmo. She focused on the dance, letting her body speak for her.
Tianmo watched them, his expression unreadable. Madam Lin's dance was good, but it was hesitant, restrained. She was holding back, still clinging to the last vestiges of her modesty.
Ruyan's dance was different. It was practiced, perfect, but it lacked fire. She was performing, but she wasn't living the dance. She was too focused on the technique, on pleasing him, to let go.
"Enough."
Tianmo's voice cut through the silence like a knife. "You both disappoint me."
The silence in the room was heavy, broken only by the soft rustle of silk as the two women froze in their tracks. Madam Lin's breath hitched, a look of genuine panic flashing across her face. She had tried her best, pushing past her inhibitions, but it seemed her best was woefully inadequate.
Ruyan, however, merely lowered her head, her hands clasping tightly in front of her. She knew better than to speak. Disappointment from the Master was not just an emotion; it was a precursor to punishment.
"Disappointment stems from expectation," Tianmo said, his voice low and smooth, like velvet rubbing against sandpaper. He stood up from his chair, unhurried, and began to circle them.
"I expected passion. I expected hunger. I expected MORE. Instead, I see a nervous tavern keeper trying to remember steps she hasn't used in twenty years, and a slave performing a routine like a puppet."
He stopped behind Madam Lin. She trembled as she felt his breath on her neck.
"Madam Lin," he murmured, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder. His fingers slid down, tracing the strap of her red dress. "You are thinking too much. You are worried about your dignity, about what this makes you. Am I wrong?"
"N-No, Master," she stammered, her voice trembling.
"Liar." His hand moved to her back, finding the zipper of the dress. With a sharp tug, he pulled it down. The red silk loosened, sliding down her shoulders and pooling at her waist, exposing her upper body to the cool air of the room.
Madam Lin gasped, instinctively moving to cover herself, but Tianmo caught her wrists.
"Did I say you could hide?" he whispered, pulling her arms behind her back. He held both wrists with one hand, leaving her chest vulnerable. "Look at you. Your skin is flushed. Your heart is beating so fast I can see it in your chest. You are aroused, Madam Lin. Your body is honest, even if your mind is not."
He turned his gaze to Ruyan. "And you. You are perfect. Too perfect. You are dancing to please me, but you are holding yourself back. You are jealous of her. You hate that she is here, that another woman is breathing the same air as me. Use that hate and try to do something better."
Ruyan's eyes widened slightly. She raised her head, her gaze locking onto Madam Lin's exposed form. The jealousy was a burning acid in her stomach, but Tianmo was right. It was energy. Raw, potent energy.
"Both of you, get on your knees..."
———