The night was quiet, so quiet that even the faint rustling of leaves felt loud. Moonlight spilled across the empty street as all four of them stared at Aelric. Their hands slowly clenched, thin streams of qi gathering around their fists. One of the young men took a step forward and sneered.
"Do you know who we are, you bastard?"
Aelric did not reply. His gaze remained calm, steady, and completely indifferent, as if the four people standing before him did not even exist.
The man's voice rose again, louder this time, trying to hide the unease creeping into his heart. "We are disciples of the Iron Fist Sect."
Still, no response.
Seeing that Aelric remained silent, the man's tone shifted. The arrogance cracked, replaced by a sharp edge of fear. "We're giving you a chance. Leave now, or you'll regret it."
Aelric's eyes flickered briefly. He could clearly sense the killing intent forming within their qi, crude and impatient. His voice finally broke the silence, low and cold.
"If I feel killing intent again," he said calmly, "I will kill all of you."
The words were not loud, yet they pierced straight into their minds. A chill ran down their spines. Their instincts screamed at them to retreat, to turn around and run as far away as possible. But pride, alcohol, and fear twisted together into recklessness.
Two of the young men and the woman suddenly lunged forward, qi surging as they attacked.
Aelric merely glanced at them.
In the next instant, their vision shattered.
They found themselves bound to chairs in a space drenched entirely in red. The ground, the sky, even the air felt heavy and suffocating. Thick ropes wrapped tightly around their bodies, draining all strength from their limbs. No matter how hard they struggled, they could not gather even a trace of qi.
Then, footsteps echoed.
A figure dressed in black slowly emerged from the crimson haze. His face was hidden, his presence oppressive. His laughter rang out, warped and unsettling.
"Didn't I warn you?" the figure said, his voice echoing unnaturally. "I told you I would kill you."
The red sky began to twist. Strange shapes formed above them, like countless eyes opening and staring down. Beneath their feet, the ground darkened and started to sink, as if it were swallowing them alive.
Terror finally took hold.
They screamed, begged, and cried, their bodies shaking uncontrollably. One of them lost control completely, the smell of fear thick in the air. No matter how they pleaded, the black-clad figure continued to approach, slow and deliberate, enjoying every second of their despair.
—
In reality, time had barely moved.
The three attackers stood frozen in place, their bodies rigid. Blood trickled from the corners of their eyes and mouths, and their legs trembled uncontrollably. One of them had already collapsed halfway to the ground, breathing erratically.
The fourth man, the one who had not attacked, stared at the scene in pure horror. His face was pale, his mind unable to process what he was seeing.
"What… what did you do to them?" he asked, his voice shaking.
He made no move to attack. He didn't even dare gather qi. Deep down, he knew that fighting that man would only end one way.
"They are experiencing an illusion," Aelric replied calmly.
It was the manifestation of his mind realm.
Aelric turned his attention away from them and walked toward the woman lying on the ground nearby. She was unconscious, her body trembling faintly under the cold night air.
The remaining man made a decision.
He turned and ran.
The moment he took his second step, the world spun. His vision flipped upside down, and confusion flashed across his face. A heartbeat later, awareness faded as his body collapsed to the ground, head separated cleanly from his neck.
Aelric stood still, his blade already gone.
He bent down and lifted the unconscious woman into his arms, his expression unchanged. Looking at the lifeless body behind him, he spoke softly, his tone devoid of emotion.
"That," he said, "is the mercy I grant—an instant death."
The night returned to silence, as if nothing had happened at all.
——
Aelric carried the unconscious woman back to his room at the inn without drawing attention. The corridor was quiet, and the lantern light flickered softly against the wooden walls. Once inside, he closed the door and gently laid her on the bed.
She was still unconscious, her body trembling slightly from cold and lingering fear. Dirt and dried blood clung to her skin, and her breathing was shallow but steady. Aelric did not avert his gaze, nor did he linger on her appearance. To him, her nakedness carried no meaning—no desire, no embarrassment, no impulse of possession. It was simply a body, fragile and damaged.
He pulled the bedsheet over her, covering her completely, leaving only her face exposed. The trembling eased slightly as warmth returned.
Aelric stood beside the bed in silence, observing her for a brief moment.
Hex's voice echoed inside his mind, carrying its usual teasing tone.
[I thought you were completely heartless, but you actually saved a woman. Don't tell me you've grown feelings?]
Aelric let out a faint sigh, his eyes still fixed on the woman.
"I don't believe in fate or luck," he said calmly. "But when I looked out the window earlier, right after closing that book, I noticed something off about her. Her constitution resembled one described in the text."
Hex paused before responding.
[You mean the Perfect Harmonious Physique?]
"Yes," Aelric said. "That is why I intervened. I wanted to confirm it, Though her meridians are clogged with impurities, the foundation is there. If cleared, she would possess a rare balance—one that can hold both Yin and Yang without rejection. That makes her valuable."
Hex sounded mildly surprised.
[If she truly possesses such a rare constitution, why hasn't anyone noticed it before?]
Aelric considered the question. He did not have a definitive answer, only a logical conclusion.
"This village is too small and isolated," he said. "No true masters have likely passed through here. Ordinary mortals cannot sense constitutions, and the martial artists of the Iron Fist Sect are too shallow in realm to perceive energy structures without external tools. Their eyes are limited."
Aelric's vision was not.
He could see deeper than flesh—into the flow, imbalance, and nature of living beings. What others overlooked appeared clear to him.
Hex was quiet for a moment before asking again, this time more directly.
[Then let me ask you this—if she didn't possess this constitution, would you have interfered?]
Aelric answered without hesitation.
"Then what reason would I have had to act?"
There was no cruelty in his words, only honesty. Hex understood that answer better than anyone and did not press further.
As their exchange ended, a faint movement came from the bed. The woman stirred, her brows knitting together as consciousness slowly returned. Her breathing grew uneven, and after a moment, her eyes fluttered open, filled with confusion and lingering fear.
——
Aelric watched as the woman slowly opened her eyes.
For a brief moment, fear filled her gaze. The first thing she saw was a pale face looking down at her, framed by a black robe that seemed to absorb the lantern's light. Her body tensed instinctively, as if she expected pain to follow. But the next moment, she realized something was different. Warm fabric covered her bare skin, shielding her from the cold night air. The trembling in her body eased slightly, and a faint sense of safety crept into her broken consciousness.
Her lips trembled as she tried to speak.
"You… kill… them…?"
Her words were slow and uneven, as if each syllable had to be forced out. Aelric could tell immediately—her mind was damaged, scarred by fear, humiliation, and long suffering. She was not fully sane, yet she was still aware enough to understand what had happened.
"Yes," Aelric replied calmly.
At his answer, her expression twisted.
"They… kill… hahaha…"
A strange laugh escaped her throat, sharp and hollow. It did not sound like joy—it sounded like something broken trying to breathe. Then, without warning, her laughter faded. Tears welled up in her eyes, rolling down her dirty cheeks as her voice dropped into a soft, shaking plea.
"Can… you… kill forest bandit… for me…?"
Aelric remained silent for a moment, studying her face. The pain etched into her expression was deep, far deeper than what had happened that night alone. Finally, he spoke in an even tone.
"You want them dead?"
At those words, her head began to nod again and again, violent and desperate.
"I… want… them dead," she said, her voice thick with hatred.
Aelric met her gaze. Her eyes burned with rage—pure, raw, and unresolved. It was the kind of hatred that would never fade on its own. After a short pause, he asked another question, one that made her breathing stop.
"Do you want to kill them with your own hands?"
Her eyes widened.
"Kill… them… my hands… yes… yes… I… kill them… yes… yes…"
The words poured out of her, tangled but sincere. She clutched the blanket tightly, as if afraid the chance would vanish if she hesitated.
Aelric leaned slightly closer.
"Do you want power to kill them?"
Her response was immediate. She nodded rapidly, almost frantically, fear and desire mixing together in her broken expression.
"I will give you that power," Aelric said.
There was no dramatic tone in his voice, no promise of salvation—only certainty.
He moved closer, his presence calm and overwhelming at the same time. Gently, he tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck. She did not resist. Whether it was trust, exhaustion, or desperation, she accepted what was coming without fear.
Aelric's fangs extended, sharp and cold. He bit down gently but decisively.
Pain flashed through her body for a brief instant, followed by a deep, burning sensation that spread from her neck into her veins. It was not ordinary pain—it felt as if something ancient and powerful was flowing into her blood, tearing down what she once was and rebuilding it from the inside.
This was not a simple bite.
Aelric released a fragment of his essence along with his blood, merging it with hers. Her heartbeat slowed, then raced wildly. Her body arched as invisible forces tore through blocked meridians, crushing impurities and reshaping her foundation. Darkness crept into her vision as her consciousness sank.
This was the rite of turning.
Her body trembled violently as her skin cracked like drying earth, peeling away to reveal fresh, pale skin beneath. Dark impurities seeped out and evaporated into the air as her flesh regenerated. Her hair slowly lost its color, turning silvery white, while her pupils burned into a deep crimson. The transformation ended in silence—like a rebirth completed.
By sharing his blood, Aelric was binding her existence to his own. From this moment onward, her life, power, and fate would be tied to him. She would rise again—not as a helpless victim, but as his subordinate, reborn with strength beyond mortal limits.
As her body finally went still, Aelric straightened and stepped back, his crimson eyes calm and unreadable.
Her revenge would no longer be a dream.
And she would no longer walk this world alone.