The obsidian arena still reeked of blood and ash. The Trial of Blades was over, but the echoes of screams lingered in the hearts of the survivors.
The disciples dispersed in silence, some limping, some carried away, others clutching wounds too deep to heal without elixirs. None dared look long at the boy who had walked through it all unscathed.
Feng Xieyun.
The crimson shadow.
The demon-seed.
They whispered, but they did not approach.
Xieyun remained on the arena floor, his crimson eyes sweeping the emptying ranks. He had not drawn his sword once. That truth burned in their memories like a brand.
Lian Zhi descended from the viewing stands, her violet gaze sharp, her steps unhurried. She carried herself like a figure from another plane, each movement draped in elegance and quiet force.
"You have made yourself a target," she said simply.
"I was always a target." Xieyun's voice was cold, but beneath it burned a fire. "Today, they simply realized it."
Before she could respond, a voice rang out:
"Brother Feng!"
Both turned.
A youth staggered forward from the line of survivors. His face was bloodied, his left arm wrapped hastily in torn cloth. His name was Wu Han, a disciple who had once followed Xieyun during the beast tide.
He fell to one knee before Xieyun, panting. "You—saved my life once. Let me stand with you, now that the sect will surely come for your head."
The words rang with sincerity.
The crowd murmured. Could it be that some still sought alliance with the crimson child?
Xieyun studied him in silence, crimson gaze unblinking. He remembered Wu Han—cowardly but loyal enough. A boy who had frozen when the beasts came, yet had not abandoned his squad.
"You wish to walk my path?" Xieyun asked.
Wu Han lifted his head, eyes bright despite the blood staining his face. "If it leads through fire, I will burn beside you."
Xieyun inclined his head. "Then rise—"
And that was when it happened.
---
Wu Han's body convulsed. His eyes bulged, blood vessels bursting in red spiderwebs. He clutched his throat, choking on screams.
Before Xieyun could move, black runes seared across Wu Han's skin, carving themselves into his flesh as though a hidden brand had been awakened.
"W-what—!?" the crowd gasped.
Wu Han's voice twisted, no longer his own. His jaw cracked open unnaturally wide, and a guttural growl spilled forth:
"—Demon Bone… must… be shattered—!"
The black runes ignited. Wu Han's body jerked violently, limbs snapping backward as if possessed. A shadow loomed above him, vaguely humanoid, with eyes like twin furnaces.
The branded soul had awakened.
Xieyun's eyes narrowed. "Lin Clan."
Wu Han's mouth stretched into an inhuman grin. "They… know you… Crimson shadow… Feng Yu…"
The name struck like thunder. The watching disciples gasped.
"Feng Yu? Who is—?"
"Not Xieyun?!"
"Lin Clan…?"
The whispers turned to panic.
Lian Zhi's chains of light flared instantly, wrapping around Wu Han's thrashing form. But the runes only grew brighter, burning her chains with sizzling sparks.
"Get back!" she hissed.
The shadow above Wu Han swelled, forming clawed hands. Its voice boomed through the arena, ancient and hateful.
"You cannot hide. Demon Bone… Heaven shall not allow it… you are already marked!"
The disciples screamed, scattering from the stands. Even the elders stirred uneasily, their faces paling.
And in that instant, Wu Han's body erupted.
---
A blast of black fire tore through the arena, exploding outward in a storm of demonic qi. The ground split, obsidian tiles shattering into dust.
Disciples were hurled screaming into the air, their bodies torn open by the shockwave. Blood rained down, mingling with the rising smoke.
But at the center of the inferno, a lone figure stood unmoved.
Feng Xieyun.
Black lotus petals swirled around him, absorbing the blast, devouring the demonic qi before it could consume him.
The flames parted, revealing his silhouette—a demon god rising from the ashes.
When the smoke cleared, only Xieyun remained, crimson eyes gleaming like twin stars in the night.
Wu Han's body lay in pieces at his feet, his face still twisted in a grotesque smile.
Xieyun crouched, brushing his fingers against the scorched skin. He whispered coldly:
"They used you as a puppet… and burned you alive just to reach me."
He stood, turning to the watching disciples. His voice cut like a blade:
"Do you see now? This is the fate of those who stand near me. The Lin Clan will burn even your souls to ash if it means touching me."
The survivors stepped back, fear written across their faces. Some spat curses. Others bowed their heads, unwilling to meet his gaze.
But all understood.
Feng Xieyun was not merely dangerous—he was cursed.
---
The Sect Master rose from his throne, his voice echoing across the arena.
"Enough!"
His aura descended, suppressing the chaos. Yet even he could not hide the unease in his eyes.
For the Lin Clan to brand a disciple's soul, to awaken it within the Trial—it was a message, plain and ruthless.
We know he is there. He belongs to us—or he will die.
The Sect Master's lips curled faintly. "So, the Lin dogs bare their teeth. Good. Let us see if the heavens truly favor their arrogance… or this crimson child's defiance."
---
That night, in his quarters, Xieyun sat alone in silence. The System's chime rang in his mind.
> [Hidden Mission Completed: Survive the Branded Soul Explosion.]
[Reward: Lotus Flame Advancement—Black Lotus Second Bloom.]
[Warning: Lin Clan Tracking Progress: 28%.]
A faint ache gnawed at his chest. Wu Han's final scream echoed in his ears.
They already know who you are.
Xieyun clenched his fist, lotus fire burning between his fingers.
"Then let them come," he whispered. "If Heaven and clan both hunt me, I will burn a path through their bones."
And outside, the blood moon pulsed again—brighter, hungrier, as though it too awaited his rise.
---
✨ End of Chapter Twenty-Six ✨
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