In the newly renovated base of the Darkwing Sect, music and celebration echoed—more than loud enough to be heard from cities away, attracting attention.
Marble floors gleamed under golden lanterns. High pillars stretched skyward, bathing the base in warm, triumphant light filled with conceit and secrets.
Benches and tables were spread across the base, well dressed disciples of the sect were running around, carrying food and drinks to everyone—but they didn't seem happy... Their expression was quite the opposite, they seemed almost... Unfortunate.
The smell of alcohol and cooking food was filling up the air—but only a few people weren't celebrating.
In the corner, cloaked figures sat alone on a bench. No one dared approach them, their mere presence sending shivers of unease down people's spine.
The golden cloak they wore shimmered under the lantern light, making them glow in the dark like a golden moon, their presence ethereal yet... Evil.
The cloak hid most of their face—but the lazy grin they had on their face was unnerving.
The sect leader who stood on a pedestal cleared his throat—he was a middle aged man with a long, thin black beard that reached his chest.
His yellow chaofu was filled with arrogance and a twisted sense superiority—his eyes filled with dark, dark secrets he wanted to keep away from the public eye.
"Greetings all of my precious and honored guests!"
He began in a loud and excited voice, grabbing everyone's attention momentarily.
"This ceremony shall be called the Wingbinding Ceremony, since we—the Darkwing Sect shall bind the world to us once more!"
There was a small silence, none of the guests overtly supportive of the speech that was given by the sect leader. But the cloaked men still clapped their slowly, their grin widening.
The Sect Leader, Ming Wu looked at the men in satisfaction—he stepped off the pedestal, walking away into the large palace while rubbing his beard, a smirk on his face.
Well... I suppose I should get back to business.
Ming Wu thought to himself while hastily walking through the palace he had created for himself, the silence thick and heavy.
He reached an empty wall—taking a deep breath he pushed it open, revealing a hidden passage way downwards with a whole stairway—leading towards a dark basement.
He slowly walked in, closing the wall behind him as he descended in the stairs in the darkness, his steps echoing through the stone walls.
The smell of blood and rusted metals was getting stronger and stronger before he stopped at the last stair—the sound of someone breathing behind him catching his attention.
"L-Lord Wanmei..."
He muttered under his breath, taking a deep breath and turning around to see a pair of glowing purple eyes that stared at him unblinkingly—their gleaming gaze perfectly elegant yet.. Primal. Incomplete.
"Yeah? What is it?"
Ming took a deep breath slowly taking a step back from Wanmei—his arrogance and confidence immediately dropped.
"Well.. I was told you wanted a few more slaves?"
Wanmei slowly nodded his head, taking a few steps towards Ming once more—getting dangerously close.
"Yeah.. Yeah I want some new toys to play with."
Ming was scared—his heart was beating so insanely fast that he was sure Wanmei could hear it. He knew Wanmei was entertained by his fear.
"Very well my lord.. Please follow me.."
Ming immediately stepped away—walking into the basement as the sounds of groaning and crying echoed through the walls.
"Oh my... You have set up quite a lot of entertainment for me Ming.."
Wanmei muttered, his voice filled with twisted pleasure and enjoyment—his eyes wandered across the walls and iron gates behind which were small, children that huddled into a corner, away from Wanmei's gaze.
Ming opened one of the gates, the rusted metal creaking—scrapping against the floor.
He reached out, grabbing one of the children by the hair and putting him forward towards Wanmei nervously.
"Uh.. This one is healthy.. He is about to get sold but I'll make an exception for you... My Lord.."
Wanmei looked at the kid, taking him from Ming as he held him high in the air by the back of his neck—like an animal the boy tried to get out of Wanmei's grip.
"Feisty... Very well I'll take him.."
Ming immediately breathed a sigh of relief as he snapped his fingers—two large men dressed in black bandages from head to toe walked in—their eyes and face also covered up.
They grabbed the child who yelled wildly, trying his absolute best to try and escape as tears fell from his eyes.
"Stop."
Wanmei ordered, his words making the men freeze where they stood. But before they could question anything, a shard of glass came flying towards them—slicing their throat as they fell to the ground.
The child watched carefully—intrigue and fear dancing in his eyes as he went back to the other children who were all staring at Wanmei.
"I changed my mind, I don't need slaves."
Ming's eyes widened as he opened his mouth to protest but Wanmei had his hand inside Ming's mouth, fingers wrapped around the tongue as a small chuckle was heard.
"Shh.. Don't talk... Kids. close your eyes.."
The kids immediately did as ordered—there was silence for a moment before suddenly they heard the sound of something getting ripped, torn out.
One of them dared to open her eyes and what she saw made her immediately close them right back up.
Ming fell onto the ground, face first—his tongue was pulled out—held in Wanmei's bloody gloved hand that threw it away.
"Aww.. Why'd you open your eyes little girl."
Wanmei's voice was a bad attempt to be warm or compassionate, his eyes were becoming more red in their glow and even more dangerous.
"Tsk tsk tsk.. Come here. Kids. All of you."
The iron gates slowly opened on their own, the children slowly crawling out of their cages—some nearly dead from hunger while some were beaten bloody.
They all surrounded Wanmei who took a deep breath before his eyes crinkled at the edges, a sign that he was smiling underneath the mask he was wearing.
"Remember, children—strangers wear smiles the same way wolves wear sheeps clothing.. But I guess you're life is far too useless to learn that lesson."
He muttered before suddenly, a wave of glowing white shards of glass appeared, slicing and tearing apart every single person except Wanmei himself.
"Well.. Now the villain becomes the saint..."
He said speaking to himself, wiping away the blood on his gloves with a rag from one of the dead bodies in the dungeon.
"Well.. The story should be that when I arrived here, Ming in a rage slaughtered everyone due to them trying to escape.. And I fought him and killed him.. Yeah, the Jianghu Alliance should believe that, right. Yanwei?"
Behind him Yanwei was dressed in a regal golden changshan, a bright red belt wrapped around his waist. A pair of daggers sported behind him on his back, his eyes still blank and white.
"Of course my Lord, You're plan is perfect and its not like the Jianghu alliance shall care. A few coins shall settle their questions."
Yanwei spoke with a large, unnerving grin on his face—one that almost seemed to be stitched on to his lips.
Wanmei looked at him silently, not responding immediately before nodding slowly, his own eyes showing he was grinning underneath the mask.
"Good.. Now, lets go shall we? We don't want to get ourselves dirty after all."
Yanwei's grin immediately widened at the compliment and satisfaction of Wanmei.
"Of course my lord. Let's go."
Wanmei stood up, he walked towards the deep dark shadows—Yanwei following close behind as they both disappeared, leaving the dungeon filled to the brim with corpses.
Back on the surface, the celebrations continued—one of the disciples carrying a large tray of food walked towards the cloaked men—he couldn't help but tremble slightly, feeling like there was a dagger aimed straight at his throat.
But he remained brave and put the wooden tray on the table—giving a small, shaky smile to the men who were all staring at him with a lazy grin.
"Please enjoy yourselves..."
One of the larger men reached out for the tray—the disciples thought he was reaching for something to drink or eat but, he couldn't be any more wrong.
The man threw a bowl of steaming hot soup towards the disciple who managed to dodge in time but he was immediately struck in the throat by a punch from someone.
The cloaked men immediately stood up—their movements completely synchronized like a group of zombies that shared the same mind.
"The Darkwing Sect shall fall today. Under the orders of Lord Wanmei."
They shouted in unison—their voices layered, shrieking like knives cutting through glass. Unnatural. Terrifying.
The disciples paused, setting down their trays before they all jumped towards the men who stood there in complete stillness.
Just before the disciples could land on top of the men—a burst of wind from a man cut them all apart—their bodies turning into nothing—the only evidence of their existence was their blood on the ground.
The men slowly advanced, bursts of winds cutting through the helpless guests who were trapped in with them—the gates having mysteriously closed in on their own.
After just a few minutes, the base was now painted red from blood and other bodily fluids. The only people left were the men standing without a single spot of blood on their cloak or other clothing.
Just then, the gates shook, one of the men turned his head to look at the gates—but before he could even look away.
The gates flew open, torn off of their hinges as the man was grabbed by the face and slammed into the bloodied ground.
It wasn't Jinshen, instead it was none other then Jinhai whose blood was boiling with rage and disgust.
"Who are you all?!"
The man slowly stood up, his upper body completely limp and almost broken—but he stood up and healed in a horrifying way, skin pulsating and growing in some parts before it settled.
"We are the Harbinger of Mirrors. We were sent by Lord Wanmei-"
The man was interrupted, getting struck straight in the mouth by an arrow from the roof—making the man's head freeze over into a block of ice which Jinhai shattered.
"Oh.. Wanmei huh? We're both angry after the whole Jinshen incident.. So, I think we should take out our anger on them right, Ruoxue?"
Ruoxue who was standing on the roof of the palace simply nodded—his eyes glowing an icy blue in the dark his bow drawn and readied with a barrage of arrows.
"Very well... This time, let's not hold back. Since I have a feeling Jinshen Zhe will be here.."
He spoke in a monotone and almost bored voice—his hair turned blue at the edges, iris turning into a light shade of purple—his hair grew to down the middle of his back, strands glowing with Qi.
Jinhai nodded, drawing his daggers—which seemed to have evolved—their shape now more curved, like a miniature sword.
Their edge was also more jagged—the metal also a new golden color, the flames enveloping it turning golden.
His long white hair slowly changed into a more red and golden color, his eyes also matching his hair—a small, confident yet wild smirk spread across his face.
"I suppose so.. Lets just deal with these punks.. You take three I also take three.."