The forest seemed to pulse with anticipation, as if it knew the blood of the righteous was near.
Shen Zong moved silently, every step measured, his senses attuned to the faintest disturbance. The tendrils of the Cursed Lotus Scripture slithered beneath his skin, whispering guidance, showing him how to merge with the shadows of the forest.
Above, the two Azure Cloud Sect hunters tracked him, moving cautiously between the twisted trees. Their eyes burned with determination, unaware that the forest itself had become a weapon in the boy's hands.
Shen Zong's voice was calm, almost playful. "You came for a demon…"
A black mist seeped from his body, coiling through the roots and tree trunks, connecting with the lingering spiritual qi of the forest. Leaves turned black, branches twisted, and shadows stretched unnaturally long. Every tree became an extension of his will.
The taller hunter froze mid-step, noticing the subtle movements of the underbrush.
"What is this…?" he muttered.
The smaller hunter smirked, but even his heart skipped a beat. "Stay sharp. He's cunning. He won't fall for a direct attack."
Shen Zong exhaled slowly. "Cunning… yes. But patience is stronger than skill."
Then, with a flick of his hand, the forest came alive. Roots erupted from the earth like black serpents, wrapping around the hunters' legs. Branches whipped down like chains of steel, forcing them to drop their weapons.
The taller hunter struggled, summoning his qi to break free. Blue flames of energy danced across his arms, but the roots tightened, infused with the cursed qi of the lotus, searing flesh and bone alike.
Shen Zong stepped from the shadows, calm as ever, his eyes gleaming.
"Do you feel it? The forest itself obeys me. Your sect's power is nothing here."
The smaller hunter lunged, summoning a blade of pure azure energy, but Shen Zong's hand flicked once. A black tendril shot out, slicing the blade in half and sending shards scattering into the trees.
"Run?" Shen Zong whispered softly, his voice carrying a lethal calm. "No… you will stay. You will witness the end."
The hunters' faces twisted with rage and fear. They attacked simultaneously, a coordinated strike designed to overwhelm. But every step forward was met with crushing force. The forest itself seemed to shift, guiding Shen Zong's movements, enhancing his speed and power.
He moved like a shadow, untouchable, striking with precision. Each tendril of the lotus struck a vital point, draining qi and blood with surgical efficiency. Within moments, both hunters were on their knees, their energy sapped, their bodies broken.
Shen Zong's eyes never left them, calm and unyielding.
"You are skilled, yes… but skill without wisdom is fragile."
He raised his hand, and the final strike came: a tendril wrapped around their throats, siphoning their qi entirely, leaving them as husks on the forest floor.
The Blackwood Forest fell silent once more. The cursed mist retracted, the trees returning to their ominous stillness.
Shen Zong straightened, brushing dirt and blood from his hands. His chest mark pulsed faintly, the seven petals glowing with renewed strength.
"Every step… every kill… every challenge… feeds the lotus."
The forest seemed to hum in response, acknowledging its new master.
And far above, hidden in the distant mountains, new eyes watched.
Not all were righteous. Some were darker, hungrier. They had seen the display—an orphan boy who could control both the lotus and the forest itself.
And they knew: Shen Zong was no longer a boy. He was a force that could not be ignored.