The dark clouds paraded across the sky in the middle of the day, preparing to rain. Desperately, a bronze colored man rushed through the infamous weeping forest, lunging from branch to branch in a hurry.
Intrinsic, blurs of brown and green swooshed by him, moving at a high velocity. Lighter than a feather, this individual had been on the run for days now. Being hunted down like a rabid dog.
Zeke was cruelly reminded that his folly was just a delusion and a falsehood to the greater powers that be.
With his mind in a frenzy, he deeply regretted growing complacent in his cultivation efforts. When soaring near the peak of the mortal realm, fifty years ago.
At 141 years of age now. Zeke's appearance remained that of a middle-aged man in his 40s. A feat that was only possible through the effects of cultivating.
In the past, this martial world was alien to Reid when he first transmigrated as Zeke Samus. A ten-year-old bastard offspring of the Elemental sect's patriarch. Sang-Law of the Samus lineage.
Thinking of his so-called father. Zeke ground his teeth in anger. Knowing Lord Samus was the main reason he found himself in this life-or-death situation.
Before he could curse him out to death in his head. Zeke unexpectedly let out a gut-wrenching yell as his momentum was abruptly disrupted.
An unimaginable burning sensation engulfed his upper left side. His blood spurted out profusely, spinning in the air like a rag doll from up high.
Falling harshly onto the ground with a hollow thud. Tightly clutching his shoulder, Zeke's left arm was completely severed. Riving in agony, he finally laid eyes on one of his vaunted pursuers mocking him.
" Looking for this?"
The man Zeke knew all too well said in a heavy tone, nonchalantly holding his torn arm. Having silver hair with shark-like teeth and golden eyes. The assailant wore a mixture of blue and silver silk armor as he continued,
" My misguided younger brother, how did it come to this?"
Without giving his questions much thought, Zeke dryly smiled with a grimace,
" Tsk, you tell me."
In that instance, a crimson light shone ominously from the detached arm that his older brother Fang held.
Within the next second, a large blood-like scythe sprouted from the open wound, swiftly aiming for Fang's neck. Caught slightly off guard, he barely avoided the attack by letting go of the arm while taking an elongated leap backwards.
However, this result already fell under Zeke's expectations. The Blood Scythe then changed form, quickly stretching back towards him. Absorbing the red blob, he was able to reattach his arm instantly.
Springing back to his feet as if the prior occurrence had never taken place. Not letting up, Fang countered. Imbuing his hand and forearm with blades of wind, closing the distance faster than a bullet. Clashing together as Zeke reactivated the Blood Scythe on impact. Being forced back several meters, Zeke lost ground due to the difference in sheer strength.
Even though they were both at Stage 5, just outside the cusp of becoming immortal. The difference in power between them was like putting a snake vs a mongoose.
Factoring in the three Ranks that accompany every Stage, which include Disciple, Master, and Grandmaster.
Zeke remained at the Disciple Rank while Fang was a Master. Given the logic of this world, his loss was pretty much a foregone conclusion.
" Zeke! Why do you continue to persist in this useless struggle of yours? Haven't you brought about enough shame to our sect and ancestors?"
Fang asked as Zeke was faltering under the pressure his brother emitted effortlessly. Unsure if he was just unaware of their father's schemes or just adding salt to an already open wound.
At this moment in time, Zeke couldn't be pressed to read between the lines. Whether Fang believed he was framed or not, it didn't matter. His allegiance, just like their other seven siblings, belonged solely to Lord Samus unconditionally.
In a society where people mainly acted on their self-interest. The key difference between Orthodox, Unorthodox, and Demonic Factions lay in how they presented themselves to the masses.
Behind closed doors, there were rarely any heroes with justice in their hearts. The majority of these world leaders were just pure hypocrites, upholding rotten alliances.
" Well, what else would you expect from someone labeled as the 'black sheep' since birth? I'm just doing all I can to live up to that revered title of mine."
Zeke bitterly remarked, gradually accepting the villain role that was thrown upon him. Thinking back on how naive he was. He believed that his many achievements and contributions could truly garner him peace of mind.
After scratching and clawing for his respect. When he finally secured the status of an elder, over half a century ago. The comfort and privileges that followed paved the way for lowering his guard around these venomous snakes.
"You ungrateful trash!"
Fang shouted in anger as he shattered the blood scythe, piercing his hand through Zeke's abdomen. Coughing up blood, he smiled, grasping onto the arm that skewered him.
Zeke then attempted to infuse a deadly poison into Fang's Spiritual Root. Before Fang had a chance to respond or pull away from his grasp. Zeke unleashed a slew of poisonous blood needles from his entire body, resembling a porcupine. Hitting the mark, Fang eventually separated himself from Zeke, staggering away as he exclaimed
" Damn, demonic bastard! I'll..."
His words were cut off as Zeke dissolved into a red puddle. The shared vision and connection with Zeke's Blood Clone ended on his command.
Meanwhile, those remaining senses returned to his main body, slithering several meters underground using the Earth Dragon technique. Moving through the compacted dirt like it was air.
Zeke had decided to split on a different path from his clone a couple of days prior. When the official hunt for his head had first begun.
Now he was thousands of miles in the opposite direction.
Purposely leaving a small but noticeable trail for his pursuers to bite the bait on, instead of him. He halted in his tracks, succumbing to a delayed reaction.
Soon, the surge of visceral anguish that Zeke's clone experienced reverted. Taking half the tool, he endured the uncontrollable convulsions that threatened to rip him apart.
Still underground, after getting himself in the right frame of mind, Zeke continued onward.
Seeking refuge under the intel and assassin network he'd established under a different identity in his younger years. Within half a day of crossing its border.
The Northern Region was the ideal location in its current state. Knowing the orthodox path influence would be greatly diminished in that particular territory.
'Soon enough, this living nightmare where I had to hide and look over my shoulders like a frightened rat will subside.'
Thinking about the future, an eerie premonition crept to mind, sending a chill down Zeke's spine. Without warning, he felt an earth-shattering quake, violently uprooting him from underneath the deep soil. A deafening boom and a large cloud of dust left a large crater in its wake.
Zeke's mangled body was left at the center of it all. Struggling to breathe as blood filled his lungs. A familiar voice rang out, invoking utter dread.
" Where do you think you're scurrying off to, Zeke?"