Tian World/Mortal Realm
Tian Village — Sunrise
As the first light of dawn spilled across the Tian Village fields, golden rays touched the rooftops and wood-planked homes with gentle warmth. The villagers returning from Long City arrived with smiles, their wooden cart creaking under the weight of empty sacks and worn-out tools. After selling their goods, their hearts were light, their voices cheerful.
Laughter rang out as they bid each other farewell, each one heading back to their homes to see their families. The village, as always, breathed calm and quiet—until a shadow fell over the morning peace.
From the tree-lined road beyond the fields, five figures appeared.
They wore red and white robes that fluttered in the breeze, marked with a serpent insignia. Their movements were arrogant, their presence unsettling. At their center walked a bald man with a white scarf coiled around his neck. His eyes swept over the village with disdain.
"Another pathetic village," he muttered, his voice sharp and bitter. "Since I left the sect to explore, I've seen too many of these insect nests. Why are there so many of them?"
His name was Han Gong, an Inner Disciple of the infamous Evil Qi Sect.
A voluptuous woman stepped forward beside him, her expression twisted with boredom.
"Yeah," she said, licking her lips. "This is starting to get annoying. Let's destroy it. Might be fun."
She was Gong Sio, another Inner Disciple, known for her cruelty.
A third figure, a muscular man with veins bulging along his arms, cracked his neck lazily.
"Sister Gong is right. We've been patient long enough just because Master told us not to make trouble. But I'm done waiting."
His name was Meng Hao, another Inner Disciple, his temper as short as his fuse.
Two more stepped forward—faces hidden beneath their hooded robes. They stood shoulder to shoulder like shadows cast from the same flame.
The first one chuckled. "It's so dull. I want to spill some blood already."
He was Jin Min.
Beside him, his elder brother Jin Kin nodded slowly. "Yes… Let's begin."
Without waiting for orders, Jin Min and Jin Kin dashed forward like wolves off the leash.
They rushed into the heart of the village, kicking down doors and slicing with their blades.
Screams echoed across the homes.
Villagers poured out of their houses in panic, some carrying children, others clutching farm tools in trembling hands.
Old Song, the elderly healer and cultivator of the village, stepped out of his hut, eyes blazing with disbelief.
"What's happening here?!"
A panicked villager pointed toward the chaos.
"They're attacking us! They're killing people!"
Jin Min leapt forward, his blade flashing in the morning light, slashing down one villager after another with wicked glee.
Cries of agony filled the air as bodies dropped, and blood seeped into the earth.
Gong Sio laughed in delight. "Yes, scream more! Let me hear it!"
Old Song's eyes narrowed. His frail body straightened as he gathered a surge of spiritual energy.
"You dare attack innocent people?" he growled and launched a palm strike toward Jin Min.
But Jin Kin was faster.
With a burst of power, he struck Old Song in the chest with a punch, sending him flying backward.
The old man's body smashed into the temple wall with a loud crack, and he crumpled to the ground, unmoving.
The peaceful air that once surrounded Tian Village now reeked of blood and smoke. The cries of mothers, the screams of children, and the hollow thuds of bodies falling echoed throughout the village like the tolling of a death bell.
Jin Min and Jin Kin, their eyes wild and grinning like beasts, moved through the village like twin devils. Wherever they stepped, someone died. Their blades danced, slicing through men, women, and even the elderly without mercy.
A farmer tried to shield his wife with a pitchfork, but Jin Kin shattered it with a single swing of his arm, then drove his palm through the man's chest, ripping out his heart.
His wife screamed, collapsing beside her husband, only for Jin Min to silence her with a lazy flick of his blade.
"Too loud," he muttered with amusement, flicking the blood off his sword.
Elsewhere, Gong Sio strolled down a dirt path between homes, her hand trailing lazily along a fence. Her fingers suddenly crackled with crimson energy. She turned her palm toward a house and smiled darkly.
"Let's make this more beautiful."
With a small flick, flames burst from her fingers and ignited the home.
The fire roared to life in seconds, climbing up the wooden walls, turning windows into squares of orange rage.
Children inside screamed. A mother tried to escape through the door with a baby in her arms, but Meng Hao appeared before her like a mountain.
He grinned, raised his massive foot, and stomped her down without hesitation. The child rolled out of her arms, crying weakly, only to be kicked into the flames.
"You people are so fragile," he chuckled.
One by one, the homes of Tian Village were set ablaze. Fire danced across rooftops, painting the sky with black smoke. Ash rained down like snow.
Some villagers tried to flee, but Han Gong stood calmly at the village entrance, hands behind his back.
"None leave," he said coldly.
He raised his hand. A dark red Qi blade formed and flew from his fingers. It tore through the chest of a young man trying to run, pinning him to a tree.
Han Gong didn't even blink.
"Burn it all," he said flatly. "The smell of blood and fire… makes the day feel worth it."
The Evil Qi Sect disciples laughed and obeyed.
Villagers were slaughtered. Homes turned to charred bones. The temple wall cracked by Old Song's broken body now bore the soot of fire. The golden statue inside flickered with heat as the flames crept toward it.
And above it all, the crimson sun continued to rise.
Deep within the crimson-canopied Hell Forest, Zhen Huan remained asleep, his back resting against a tree, his sword leaned gently beside him. The forest, for all its dangers, was still and quiet in the early morning light.
Sunlight pierced through the dense leaves, a golden beam warming his face. Zhen Huan stirred, groaning softly as he rubbed his eyes.
"Ah… it's already morning."
He stretched lazily and stood, letting out a long yawn. His red eyes blinked slowly, adjusting to the brightness.
I had a nightmare last night… that I was killed… and Tian Village was destroyed...
The memory lingered in his chest like a knot. But he shook it off and turned toward his sword. He picked it up, gripping it tightly.
Forget it. It's just a dream.
His gaze shifted deeper into the forest, determination returning to his expression.
Now… time to move. I need to go deeper. That sword… it's waiting for me.
He rushed forward, leaping onto a low branch and then to another. With each bound, his movements grew more agile, more fluid. He darted between branches like a shadow, deeper into the unknown.
The forest around him was breathtaking—crimson leaves glowing like embers in the wind, ancient trees rising like silent guardians. But Zhen Huan didn't stop to admire it. His focus was unwavering.
Time passed quickly. When the sun reached its peak above the forest, casting sharp beams through the canopy, Zhen Huan saw it.
The trees began to thin.
He slowed his pace and finally came to a halt at the edge of a massive clearing.
His breath caught in his throat.
Before him stretched a vast, circular space where the forest ended abruptly. The ground was smooth and blackened, as if scorched by ages of fire. At its center stood a lone stone altar, its surface glowing faintly.
Encircling the altar was a wide ring of molten lava, bubbling and hissing with heat that distorted the air above it.
And there—at the very heart of the altar—stood a sword.
It was jet black, forged from some unknown material, and it pulsed with a flame-like aura. Flickers of heat rippled off its blade as if it were alive.
Zhen Huan's eyes locked onto it, his breath shallow.
That sword… it must be the Sword of Inferno.