The night stank of blood.
Endless Forest sky was painted a dense crimson, the clouds thick as melted metal, oppressing upon the battlefield like the very heavens were descending upon the mortals beneath them. Broken husks of demonic beasts were strewn upon the ground, their evil stench still bleeding into the earth. Flames danced throughout, the result of spells that had blazed so intensely just minutes before.
Amid the corpse-strewn crowd stood Li Shen, his attire torn, his breathing grating, though his back unshattered. His sword—narrow, silver, unwarping even through the blood-loss—bled black ichor from the hilt. The aura around him pulsed with raw energy, the unquestionable exudate of a cultivator who reached the apotheosis of the Core Formation Realm.
He felt he had won for an instant.
He had been the one who took the lead of the strike team into the interior of the forest, chasing after a demon beast that had been plaguing villages for months now. He had been the one who pierced the beast's heart, who carried his teammates when they faltered, who persevered when desperation took over.
There were no cheers; there was only silence all around.
Li Shen turned, expecting gratitude. What he beheld chilled his blood.
Ten warriors—his sect brothers, men and women he'd fought with for years—were arrayed in loose formation around him. Their swords were not tucked away. Their eyes didn't gleam with appreciation. They glimmered with hunger.
He stood among them, Elder Wu, the expedition chief, his white beard clean in the midst of the brawl. He clapped slowly, sarcastically.
"Good work, Li Shen. In fact, your talent is limitless. I never would've believed one your age and position could lead the charge into battle and hopefully slay the Crimson Horned Beast…" Elder Wu's grin widened. "…but your talent left your sense of station behind a long time ago."
Li Shen's hold tightened around his sword. His mind screamed at him not to deny the obvious, but the circle of metal and angry eyes left no room for delusions.
"Elder Wu… brothers, sisters… what are you doing?" He was rough from battling, but unyielding. "We are of the same sect. We swore an oath together and bled for one another; we will protect the Azure Heavens together!"
There was a snort off his left. Zhang We, one of the older disciples, spat on the ground.
"Swore? You're really innocent, Li Shen. You believe it's loyalty that keeps us going? You believe it's vows that elevate? No. It's power that does. And right now, you've got too much of it."
Another voice intervened, harsher, tinged with jealous envy. Mei Rong, a woman he'd once drunk wine with after interminable missions.
"You've attracted the notice of too many elders. Too many resources wasted upon you. Too many praises heaped upon you. Every one of your successes is one more nail into our coffins. You win and we're forgotten. Do you understand?"
Li Shen's chest heaved, and it wasn't because he was tired, but the rush of betrayal tearing his heart from his chest. He glared from face to face. Men and women he'd teased, trained with, risked his life for. They gazed at him like he was a plump pig, ready for slaughter.
His sword arm trembled. "So the whole thing… the mission, the Crimson Horned Beast… it was a trap?"
Elder Wu grinned, his eyes spiking with cold logic. "You were too valuable an instrument for a neat kill, boy. We wanted the beast killed. Why dirty our own hands when you were content to shoulder the burden? But now that the beast is dead…" He spoke with a deadly undertone. "So are you."
The circle tightened.
Li Shen's body lamented in pain. He was wounded, drained, his dantian throbbing from overexertion. Up against ten cultivators—some his equal, some inferior but inexperienced—his odds were absurd. But give up? To bleed to death without a struggle?
He spat blood onto the ground and clutched his knife.
"If betrayal you prefer, betrayal you shall choke upon. Come then! Let us determine who shall bleed first!"
He caught the first blow by Zhang Wei. A lightning-quick thrust of his spear. Li Shen blocked it, sparks sizzling, the blow reverberating through his frail arms. Another sword cut from behind; he spun around, barely escaping beheading.
They assailed him wave after wave, like wolves tearing a stag apart. Each strike rattled his bones, each dodging robbed him of strength. His sword lashed wildly, slashing thin wounds among his one-time comrades, but there were too many. Too relentless.
A sword cut his thigh.
A spear passed through his shoulder.
Blood stained his robes and the ground he walked on. His sight faded, but his will burned like an inferno.
I will not compromise. Not for them. Not for fate.
He pulled his last reserves of qi and released his technique—**Heaven-Splitting Sword Arc**. His sword gleamed with silver light and cut through two enemies at once. Zhang Wei fell, screaming, his chest ripped apart. Mei Rong headed back, her arm close to being hacked off.
A heartbeat of silence. The others froze. Fear darted across their eyes.
But Elder Wu's cold voice cut through the momentary silence.
"Kill him. Now."
They surged again.
Li Shen roared, his voice echoing through the forest, shaking the leaves off thetrees. He fought like a demon, every strike a test of heaven itself. But flesh can only resist quantities for just so long.
A sword went through his ribs. A spear went through his belly. His knees buckled, but he struggled back to his feet, sword still stuck.
Amidst the blood and suffering, he caught the eye of Elder Wu.
"You… will regret this." He spoke barely above a whisper, but each word stank with venom. "Even if heaven itself comes crashing down, I shall return. I shall grind your bones to dust. I shall burn your sect to ash. Remember this oath as you sleep, traitor."
Elder Wu's face wavered—just for a moment. Then his hand lashed out, a blast of qi hitting Li Shen hard across the chest. Bones snapped. His body collapsed.
As the world went dark, Li Shen felt the cold earth envelop him. His vision constricted, darkness closing around him.
But his mind never stopped.
Heaven. Earth. If there is justice, grant me one more chance. If there isn't…. Then I shall create justice with my own hands. Even if it takes ten thousand years, I will return. And then—silence.