Feng Haoran stood in the midst of the dark forest, far from the Golden Lotus Kingdom. His glowing red eyes flared in the darkness like demonic fire ready to devour souls. The moonlight, usually so pure, appeared dim when compared to the blazing crimson of his gaze. Beneath his feet lay Zimo's corpse sprawling on the ground with its blood already dried. Flies swarmed over Zimo's rotting body, consuming the remnants of life until absolutely nothing remained.

  "Deng Rao."

  Feng Haoran called out Deng Rao's name with an incredibly calm tone. Deng Rao then emerged from behind the trees in the forest. He walked toward Feng Haoran, maintaining his holy facade with a lotus flower resting in his hand. Deng Rao smiled at the sight of Zimo's corpse before bowing low to pay his respects to Feng Haoran.

  "May Your Majesty live for hundreds to millions of years! This servant is here to serve Emperor Feng."

  "Deng Rao, I have prepared a sacred and special gift for the Eagle Kingdom."

  "Magnificent, Your Majesty. What must this old servant do?"

  Feng Haoran smiled. His smile looked faint under the moonlight.

  "Place a curse upon this piece of trash, and send this blessing to our brothers in the Eagle Kingdom."

  Feng Haoran ordered Deng Rao to create a plague that would be spread using Zimo's corpse in the Eagle Kingdom. Feng Haoran stared at Deng Rao, narrowing his eyes into a cold smile.

  "Very well, Great Emperor Feng. According to your command, I will take this corpse and transform it into a deadly plague..."

  "Do it here."

  Feng Haoran and Deng Rao stared at each other. Feng Haoran's eyes glowed an even brighter red, while Deng Rao wore a painted smile on his face, glancing upward directly at his emperor.

  "Very well, Your Majesty. As you command, I shall do it here. There is nothing for you to suspect."

  Feng Haoran glared at Deng Rao with his crimson eyes. Blood immediately gushed from Deng Rao's mouth due to the sheer pressure. His body collapsed to the ground beside Zimo's corpse. Deng Rao coughed up blood continuously until he began to vomit it. His head seemed to move on its own, slamming into the dirt under a tremendous unseen force. The heavy impact caused his pure white hair to become drenched in his own blood as it struck the ground.

  "Just do as I command. I cannot guarantee what will happen to you in the next thirty seconds."

  "Your Majesty, how can this servant..."

  "Twenty-five seconds left, Deng Rao."

  Deng Rao remained sprawled and soaked in blood. Sweat dripped from his forehead. His eyes welled with tears and turned bloodshot as he endured the agonizing pain from Emperor Feng's crushing pressure.

  "For every word you speak, I will deduct five seconds from your time."

  Feng Haoran said this as he turned his back, glancing over his shoulder to stare at Deng Rao with his blazing red eyes. The moonlight illuminated Emperor Feng's golden robes as they billowed gently in the wind.

  "Deng Rao, are you deaf? Why are you not answering me?"

  Feng Haoran kept his back turned to Deng Rao, who was still paralyzed on the ground. His beautiful black hair flowed gracefully to the symphony of the wind like an angel. The gold ornaments on his robes reflected the moonlight, making him sparkle like a beautiful diamond in the middle of a dark cave.

  "Still nothing? Must I show you another kind of beauty so you can understand?"

  Deng Rao tried to stand, using one hand for support while covering his bleeding mouth with the other. His holy robes and the lotus flower from his hand now lay directly beneath Emperor Feng's feet. The Emperor was still waiting for Deng Rao to begin his ritual.

  "Deng Rao? It seems you truly do not know how to respect someone's time."

  Feng Haoran turned around and took a step closer to Deng Rao. He bent down to level himself with the old man's position and stared at him with a smile, looking exactly like a benevolent leader protecting his people, save for his glowing red eyes. Feng Haoran's face was now inches away from Deng Rao's.

  Deng Rao's mouth seemed locked tight. His teeth chattered violently. Blood continued to pour from his mouth, seeping through the gaps of the fingers covering his lips. His eyes turned red, with the veins clearly visible within them. His darkening pupils reflected the golden light standing before him. His forehead wrinkled so deeply that the veins seemed ready to burst through his skin.

  "If you still refuse to answer..."

  Feng Haoran stood up and glanced down at Deng Rao's legs. Deng Rao made a desperate gesture, silently begging Emperor Feng to stop torturing him, but Feng Haoran only replied to the gesture with a smile. Feng Haoran stomped on both of Deng Rao's legs. The sound of bones shattering echoed, followed by them healing back together. Emperor Feng stomped on them again, and again they healed. The veins in his legs snapped thirty times, causing blood to splatter in every direction. The blood sprayed into the air and seemed to pause for a moment right in front of the moonlight, briefly painting the moon a visual crimson before falling back to the earth. The twisted legs were healed by Feng Haoran one more time. Then, for the final strike, Emperor Feng used a fraction of his true strength to completely crush the bones in Deng Rao's legs. The boot pressed down with such immense pressure that the nearby leaves were stripped from their branches. This final, devastating pressure caused the ground to crack and sent loose stones floating into the air. Deng Rao watched his emperor's cruelty upon his own body from below, looking exactly like a punished dog that had dared to bite its master. Feng Haoran stood tall, blocking the moonlight entirely, revealing only his glowing red eyes in the thick darkness.

  Feng Haoran stepped away from Deng Rao and turned around to walk forward. His fluttering golden robes seemed capable of reflecting Deng Rao's utter despair. He looked back over his shoulder with the exact same smile as before. The moonlight pierced through the strands of Feng Haoran's hair, illuminating Deng Rao's miserable face.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  "Are you going to perform the ritual or not? It is not good to dirty this sacred forest with your blood, Deng Rao. What would I say to the public later?"

  Feng Haoran smirked as he watched Deng Rao gesture wildly, trying to signal that he would immediately begin the ritual despite his crippled legs. Feng Haoran responded by waving his fingertips in front of his nose, his face twisting as if he were holding his breath against the stench of rotting filth.

  Deng Rao immediately chanted a mantra in his mind and formed a crossed symbol with his hands. In the blink of an eye, the skin on Zimo's corpse tore open, releasing a putrid stench of pus. Deng Rao's dark energy seeped into the marrow of the corpse. This dark energy, shaped like thousands of forbidden characters, entered through the oozing pores of Zimo's body. It blanketed his internal organs, accelerating their decay. Zimo's insides were now completely enveloped by the forbidden curse of darkness. It was clearly visible across Zimo's entire body, which was now covered in black, slash-like wounds. The corpse's stomach bloated grotesquely, emitting an overwhelmingly foul odor.

  Feng Haoran smiled in satisfaction. He walked up to Deng Rao and patted his head with one hand while keeping his other arm folded neatly behind his back.

  Meanwhile, at the orange mist river that always looked beautiful with its vibrant colors, Guang was still searching for something useful among the floating corpses of the Red Lunar Sect disciples. He held his breath, covering his nose with his hand. His chest felt tight from the suffocating stench of the dead bodies. To make matters worse, the thorny roots were growing wilder inside his internal organs. They caused him excruciating pain, serving as a harsh signal that he needed to treat himself immediately.

  "There must be something here. I have to find a solution quickly. It feels like these thorny roots are killing me from the inside."

  The calm orange waters of the river were contaminated by puddles of pus. The mixture created a sickening color distortion, blurring the line between the purity of the water and the rot of the infection.

  "A Soul Healing Tablet!"

  Guang smiled and kicked the corpse he had just looted. The body was thrown back and smashed into a rock at the riverbank. Its skin tore open, spilling pus that further defiled the serene waters of the orange mist river.

  Guang immediately sat cross-legged by the river edge and tossed the soul healing tablet into the air. The tablet emitted a red and gold light, spinning as if it were dancing in the sky. Guang instantly chanted the mantra according to the script written on the artifact. His hands formed the symbols of the soul, tranquility, and healing. Suddenly, the effects of the healing tablet became visible. Guang's wounds were slowly stitched together by veins that reconnected themselves. Guang's face displayed an expression of sheer agony. He grimaced throughout the healing process, his forehead deeply creased. The rebellious Vajra roots slowly began to merge with his bones and internal organs.

  The gates of the Heavenly Fire Sect remained wide open. Eight sect disciples discovered the corpse of their comrade lying on the ground. A dagger slash ran so deep across his neck that the open wound continuously poured out fresh red blood. The inner workings of his throat were almost entirely exposed.

  "This is bad. They are approaching. I must hide immediately. There are too many of them."

  Seeing the sect disciples drawing near, Guang quickly stood up from his meditation. He decided to step down into the orange mist river, his eyes scanning the surrounding waters.

  "What can I possibly use to hide from them?"

  Guang's eyes locked onto the floating corpses of the Red Lunar Sect disciples. He decided to use their bodies as cover. He swam slowly toward the pile of dead bodies and hid behind them. His head was half-submerged, leaving only the upper part of his eyes visible to scout the area. His brow furrowed as sweat poured heavily from his pores, struggling to hold his breath. The reflection of the moon on the water was the only clean thing left in that place.

  Guang waited for the right momentum. The sect disciples split into pairs, scattering to all points of the compass. Two went west, two went east, two went north, and the last two headed south.

  "Everyone, be careful! We must catch and behead that boy as a gift for the Sect Elder."

  Hearing this caused Guang to frown even deeper. His sweat flowed faster from the tension, yet his eyes continued to stalk them sharply. Two sect disciples walked toward the river, weapons drawn. Step by step, they drew closer to the riverbank. The moment they lowered their guard and turned their backs to the water, Guang slowly approached them. He maintained his position with half his head submerged. He swam silently and rose to the surface with absolute caution. Gripping his dagger tightly, he slowly raised his hand until his wrist touched his nose. He emerged from the water, bending his right knee forward for support while stretching his left leg back to form a solid stance. He swung his dagger directly at their necks, executing a sweeping slash to the right in a perfect half-circle. Blood gushed out and seemed to freeze in front of Guang's eyes for a fraction of a second before splattering in every direction. Guang immediately vanished, hiding behind the thick trunk of a large tree.

  "West," he muttered.

  The other sect disciples saw the two corpses of their comrades and rushed over. Their expressions grew furious and highly alert. They returned to their respective posts. Guang now targeted the sect disciples in the north. He walked slowly toward them, slipping through the thick underbrush and peeking through the gaps in the leaves. One of the disciples backed toward the bushes with an anxious face and accidentally bumped into Guang's hiding spot. Wasting no time, Guang clamped his hand over the disciple's mouth. He pressed down with such intense force that the veins in his own arm bulged clearly. The disciple struggled to breathe. His eyes rolled back, turning a pale white and exposing the blood vessels within them. Once the other disciple had walked far enough away, Guang placed the blade of his dagger squarely against his captive's neck. He slashed to the right and immediately dragged the fresh corpse deep into the bushes. Guang then purposely rustled the leaves to make a loud noise.

  "Who is there!"

  Guang's next target slowly approached the bushes. Guang smiled from the shadows of the foliage.

  "Just as planned. Come here!" he murmured.

  The moment the sect disciple stood right in front of the bushes, Guang launched himself into the air. The leaves of the bush flew upwards, sliced with deadly precision by his dagger. Guang hovered in the air with his blade pointed downward, looking like a predator ready to pounce. He drove his dagger straight into the disciple's face. Blood poured out and splattered everywhere, heavily staining the Heavenly Fire Sect robe. The dagger was lodged deeply into the bridge of his nose.

  "North!"

  Guang shouted and laughed while facing his remaining prey. His eyes were locked onto them like a true predator. The four remaining disciples sprinted toward him, screaming in fury.

  "Attack him!"

  "Kill him! And bring his head to the Sect Elder!"

  "Good, come here! All of you, step forward!"

  Guang dropped into his fighting stance, gripping his dagger tightly with both hands. He dashed toward them while laughing out loud. The moonlight reflected sharply off his blade. Blades of grass flew into the air, and the wind seemed to follow Guang's deadly rhythm. He instantly severed their heads with a single upward swing, forming a flawless, curved arc. Four heads separated from their bodies. Blood sprayed just as rain began to fall from the sky, accompanied by a flash of lightning. Time felt as if it stopped for a brief second. The blood and rain merged into one in the air before crashing messily to the ground below.

  Guang stood in the center, completely surrounded by the eight corpses of the Heavenly Fire Sect disciples. The black clouds grew thicker. The rain poured down even harder. His hair hung loose, and his red robe billowed to the symphony of the wind. The rain falling from the heavens soaked his body, appearing as though it were performing a ritual to wash away the sins of the slaughterhouse that the orange mist river had become.