The city of Dawnfire breathed like a living beast. Lanterns hung from arched bridges, glowing with qi-light. Drunken cultivators staggered through streets, laughing too loudly; hawkers in the night markets called out their wares of beast-meat skewers and spirit wine. But beneath the city's grandeur was rot — whispers of murders, theft, and sect feuds that never reached the imperial courts.
Korrak sat in the corner of a crowded tavern, his false body slouched casually over a jug of bitter spirit wine. Around him, disciples and mercenaries shouted, clinking cups, exchanging sect gossip. He listened quietly, the flame in his eyes dimmed, but his senses sharp.
"…the Azure Dragon Sect is preparing another recruitment — half the outer city's youth are lining up."
"Bah, fools. The Iron-Blood Temple controls the southern ports; no sect dares challenge them."
"And the Scarlet Phoenix Hall? I hear their Saint Elder broke through another tribulation. The Imperial Family is not pleased…"
Hours passed. Korrak drank enough to keep suspicion away, cataloging every whispered alliance and grudge. When the tavern began to empty, he rose, the long sleeves of his black robe dragging softly across the wooden table.
The night was cold, the stars sharp like silver blades. He walked into the narrow alleys between sect-owned inns and commoner slums.
The Family of Murderers
From the shadows, a family observed him. Not beggars, not simple thieves — but predators.
The father, Kael Dorn, was tall and wiry, his black hair tied in a warrior's knot. His face was scarred, and his eyes glinted with cruel calculation. His cultivation pulsed faintly — Soul Ascension Realm, arrogant and steady.
The mother, Selara Dorn, was broad-shouldered, her once-beautiful features hardened by years of blood. Her hands were calloused from blades, her foundation in the Core Formation Realm solid and dangerous.
Their children — twins Lyra and Darius, sixteen, stood like statues of youthful savagery. Both possessed incredible foundational bodies — muscle and bone tempered to near-perfection in Body Tempering, their skin glowing faintly with inner qi. The siblings moved like wolves, always in sync.
The youngest, Taren, only twelve, had the same dark hair and sharp eyes as his father. His cultivation hadn't awakened fully, but his physique was promising. He was sent forward — bait for the trap.
Kael grinned as he watched Korrak turn into a dark alley. "Perfect. Drunk fool, staggering off to piss. Easy money."
The Alley
Taren stepped into Korrak's path, his small hands trembling convincingly. "M-mister… could you spare a few copper coins? My family hasn't eaten in days."
Korrak stopped. His ember-like eyes flicked downward at the boy, then to the faint shadows of four figures behind him. The smile on his lips was unreadable.
"Of course," he said gently, reaching into his sleeve. He walked deeper into the alley — exactly where the Dorns wanted him.
The moment he passed, the rest of the family emerged, closing the path. Kael shoved him roughly, pressing him against the wall. "Hand over your possessions. The rings, the storage talismans, all of it. Do it quick, or we'll paint these walls with your blood."
Selara stepped forward, cracking her knuckles. The twins flanked Korrak, sneering, ready to beat him if he resisted.
Korrak lowered his head, silent for a long moment. Then, suddenly, he laughed.
The sound was hollow, echoing in the narrow alley.
The family froze, confused.
Korrak raised his eyes. The ember-like glow within them burned brighter, casting faint shadows on the wall. "How amusing. You thought you were the hunters. But it was I who lured you here. This alley will not be my grave…" His voice dropped to a hiss. "…it will be yours."
Death of Kael Dorn
Kael's expression twisted in rage. "Arrogant dog. I am Soul Ascension Realm! Even the sects bow before my power. My Blood Fang Sect will burn you alive for your words!"
He lunged forward, qi surging, fist glowing red with condensed spiritual blood energy. The blow could shatter walls, pulverize stone.
Korrak didn't move. His skeletal essence pulsed beneath the disguise. The strike landed — or rather, it never did.
Kael's chest split open before his fist connected, his ribs shattered as if crushed by invisible chains. Blood sprayed the wall as his body slumped to the ground.
The family stared in horror. Korrak brushed nonexistent dust from his robe. "A pest. Nothing more."
The Choice
The twins screamed, charging together in perfect harmony. Selara grabbed Taren, trying to run. But the moment they turned, the air solidified. Black flames flickered around them. A barrier of chained fire sealed the alley from every direction.
Korrak's voice cut through their panic. "You have two choices. Kneel… become my slaves… or die with him."
The heat in the alley pressed on their lungs. Darius dropped his sword. Lyra trembled. Selara clutched her youngest son, frozen in terror. Slowly, one by one, they dropped to their knees, foreheads pressed to the ground.
"We swear," Selara whispered hoarsely. "We swear loyalty."
"Good." Korrak's smile was thin and cruel. "Now… take me to your home. You will educate me."
The Lessons of Dawnfire
The Dorn residence was not a poor hovel but a fortified manor in Dawnfire's outer ring. Blood-stained banners hung at the gates — the mark of the Blood Fang Sect, one of the rising forces in the city.
Over the next hours, the family, now broken and obedient, explained the city's structure.
Dawnfire was ruled by the Celestial Imperial Family of Arkanis, who claimed divine bloodlines and near-Saint level guardians. Their grip was strong, but cracks were showing.
Beneath them, Four Founding Sects controlled vast swathes of the city:
Azure Dragon Sect – guardians of martial purity and qi refinement.
Scarlet Phoenix Hall – wielders of flame arts, ambitious and proud.
Iron-Blood Temple – militaristic, controlling trade and ports.
Emerald Lotus Pavilion – healers, alchemists, and poison masters.
Between these giants, hundreds of smaller sects — like the Blood Fang — scrambled for scraps, aligning with one major sect or another to survive.
Recently, tensions were rising. The ruling family sought to impose more control. The sects, especially Scarlet Phoenix and Iron-Blood, resisted fiercely.
Korrak listened, memorizing every detail. His smile never faded.
Finally, he asked: "And tell me… has a demonic sect arisen yet? One that worships the abyss, that feeds on corruption?"
The family exchanged nervous glances. Selara shook her head. "No… such a thing would be slaughtered instantly. Demonic sects are outlawed by the Emperor himself. None have risen in Dawnfire."
Korrak's eyes gleamed, faint flames flickering. He leaned back in the Dorn's blood-soaked throne chair, chains rattling faintly in the shadows around him.
"Then we shall create one. Not a petty sect… but a new Founding Sect. A sect that will devour the others. A sect that will drag this empire into the abyss."
The family shivered, foreheads pressed lower against the floor as the Pale Flame of the Abyss began to weave his next scheme.