Something was terribly wrong. The festival seemed to slow down as adrenaline surged into John's bloodstream. Turning his head this way and that way, John tried to once again catch the whiff of evil near the village. There was too much commotion around him, the sound and sights would not theoretically impair his qi sense, but John walked away from the party and into the clear night anyway. The nearly full moon shone brightly, casting everything into harsh contrast. Free of distraction, John once again sensed the subtle wrongness in the air. It barely drifted along the wind, whatever was causing this was making great efforts to stay hidden.

Just escaping the festival wasn't enough, John closed his eyes and narrowed his focus even further. Sounds garbled into meaninglessness, the brush of wind on his skin was ignored. Slowly John began to feel the faint qi of the world out here in mortal lands. Barely a trickle for a cultivator used to living in a sect. Whatever was approaching would be a flood in comparison, if only he could trace it correctly. John let out streamers of qi in all direction, feeling the air. Almost undetectable, the faintest vapor of corruption spread into the air with each measured step of the beast despite its hidden aura. Almost undetectable, but John caught the trace like a shark sensing blood from a mile away.

Just as he was about to pinpoint the location of the Weird demon, his concentration was interrupted.

"John?"

He whipped around, claws already forming. Violet stood before him, and John relaxed.

"John," she repeated, "what's wrong? Are you alright?"

"I'm alright, I just sensed something wrong. Get back to the party, this is not a place you should be right now."'

"John, what's wrong? Are you alright?" Violets voice came from behind him again, but Violet in front of him was wide eyed with terror. The back of his neck prickled.

John slowly turned. An enormous wolf stood a mere five yards away. Deep shadows on it's face made it look incredibly alien. It's bright, unblinking green eyes make it look incredibly dangerous.

It spoke in Violet's exact voice again, the tempo was all wrong. "alright? Are you, John, what's wrong?"

A shiver ran down John's spine. He still could barely detect the demon in front of him.

"Violet..." John started steadily.

"John. What is that thing? I'm scared..." Violet was barely above a whisper

"Violet, I need you to run back to the festival. Get everyone as far away from here as possible." He didn't here her moving. "Do it now Violet, Go!" She took off running.

The demon lurched forward half a pace, as if to leap on top of his sister and tear her to pieces. John leaped in the way, dozens of claws forming in the air, but it was just a feint, the demon remained in place.

"Are you, scared... John?" It was still copying Violet exactly, without moving it's mouth.. John swallowed loudly, trying to swallow his fear down at the same time. If he couldn't sense the demon in front of him, it was probably stronger than he was. John was a few hairs' breadth from the peak of Qi condensation, almost a Foundation Establishment cultivator. Whatever the sect had done to him had made him stronger than he ought to be too, for his level. For this demon to be toying with him in this way, it shouldn't be in the equivalent of Core Formation or above, if it was it could obliterate the entire village with barely a thought. John had a chance. A slim, slim chance.

It was then that the Weird demon opened it's mouth. Not the apparent mouth in the center of it's face, it's real, tooth-filled, vicious mouth that spread all the way across it's apparent neck. Blood already dripped from its true chin. The deep shadows on its face suddenly recontextualized into its real eyes. The bright green spots on its forehead were the trick of a butterfly.

"DIE FOR ME, IMP." It sounded something like a hacking death rattle and a tortured scream, but John could understand it. The demon lunged for him.

John's qi reached into the ground and yanked hard, pulling him to the turf faster than he could fall. He dodged the bite to his neck but still earned a slash of claws across his shoulder and chest. Powerful Weird qi attacked him as the claws raked him, burrowing into his core. If that had hit a normal dantian, it would have killed or corrupted the host rapidly. With his core so strangled with strands of qi, he was able to smother the attack but it still took a moment. John pushed off the ground as hard as he could, floating in the air still supine as a forepaw slashed below him. A dozen silken fangs shot toward the beast, and many of them even connected. Only a few of the blades pierced through its tough hide, but those that did exploded into spinning vortexes of qi, slashing and battering wildly, trying to maximize the damage dealt. It wasn't enough.

The demon leapt at him once more, and John formed massive qi fangs on his arms to act as both sword and shield. The wolf casually morphed its forepaws into something more closely resembling a humans, albeit with fur and massive canine claws, grabbing his fangs and pushing John to the ground. It's fully wolf back legs raked his body repeatedly and it's jaws opened too wide, reaching to bite through his neck entirely. Only at this moment was John able to see the creatures eyes, they were bottomless black voids. Empty sockets that seeped blood and claret. At the deepest point, John could see a shifting, turning motion. The Wheel.

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

Reality slowed to a crawl as John screamed. Each moment dragged on as though hours were passing. Each moment was as a still image in a flip book, passing by as distinctly as a page being turned. John's screaming echoed and harmonized with itself as his blades of qi slithered into long tentacles, one moment in transformation, and then reaching up, and then grappling the demons neck, and finally squeezing. Squeezing as hard as possible to strangle the thing to death, or snap its neck.

Yet still, it reached for John's head. It's back legs scraping his lower torso and legs to shreds in the slow pace of derealization. It was agonizing. Hostile Weird qi was infecting his lower half rapidly, necrotizing it into the same putrid unlife as the demon itself. It reeked like rancid fat. Only a few moments stood between life and death. Hours passed.

With a final desperate move, John's whole body started to seize and shake rapidly. Clawed tentacles of qi stretched from his eyes, nose, and mouth, stabbing into the demon's face and pushing it away all the same. The claws dug and burrowed and shredded as fast and as viciously as possible. Black ichor spilled from the demon and quickly soaked John's face and hair. The tentacles around the demon's neck shattered vertebrae and ground its neck into a pulp for good measure. The demon's claws and arms fell limp, but the Weird qi invasion of John's dantian accelerated rapidly, the demon had abandoned its form and was trying to possess John directly!

All of John's qi constructs evaporated and rushed inward to keep up his defenses. Time was ticking by faster and faster now, almost flowing into a continuous picture again. A war raged in his waist as his own qi obliterated the hostile qi as best it could, dying and being replaced like soldiers in columns and rows. A part of John, still affected by the trance of the Wheel, observed from on high, as though floating separate from his body.

If only he had been stronger, John wouldn't have been such easy prey for this damned beast. Weird qi infections were drawn to places of higher qi density. It was no wonder the grasses and herbs in the sect were so prone to possession but the fields of wheat out here, in the middle of nowhere, were free from it. This demon had probably sensed John as he journeyed home, stalking him all the while. John's Weird qi density was as alluring as fresh blood to a predator like this.

If only John had been stronger, he would not have been plucked from his life by uncaring cultivators, throwing his life into upheaval. If John died here, and he was losing the war, his whole family would likely die. Everyone in the village would die too, and it would be by his possessed hand. The demon would take his body and destroy everything he had loved, for that was the nature of corruption. The demon would consume and assimilate qi and lives until it was stopped by something of greater power, for that was the nature of strength. Possession was the corruption of being through strength. Strength was the assimilation of qi and life into being. For the first time, John could see how closely his own cultivation method was to possession. He was bound to the strange and unnatural ways of Weird qi after his exposure to the Wheel. He maintained his sanity, more or less, but otherwise corrupted natural qi in the world into his own power. Even regular cultivation was similar in this regard, assimilating qi more righteously into their own being.

John couldn't care about righteousness at this moment. Strength was far more important, if he wanted to survive. If he wanted to get revenge. If he wanted to protect his family. For John's cultivation, corruption and strength was a distinction without a difference, and in the Butterfly Dream Scripture, recognizing the distinction was all it took. John's world shifted as he broke through the bottleneck of understanding. His qi changed from the peak of Qi Condensation to the power of early Foundation Establishment. His qi army obliterated the remaining hostile qi in the surge, before flooding out of his dantian and into his fleshly body. His body corrupted, but in his own image, becoming ever more perfected. His whole body cocooned in the silk of his qi, imperfection and contamination were violently expelled. His legs especially spewed black sludge as their shredded and necrotic remains were repaired to a higher level of existence. John puked both from the stench and from the ichor still in his mouth and nose. Hacking up disgusting filth from his renewed lungs. The disgusting feeling assaulting his body was only matched by the exhilaration of strength thrumming through every inch of his veins.

When the process was complete, the cocoon broke open and John crawled out. He was almost naked, with the remains of his robe being stained beyond all saving. Quick movements of qi blades scoured his body of the filth and ruined clothes. The ground pooled with crud, there was so much of it. John didn't have a means to burn it so he quickly buried it instead. His control over qi had improved slightly, but it was nothing compared to the advancement of his body. His qi could naturally empower his physical form now through advanced corruption of his body, but the overall improvement was still many times higher than before even without active enhancement.

John turned toward the village. The sound of festivities had stopped, but it was otherwise unharmed. He started walking.

----------------------------------------

Violet must have done her job well. Everyone was gone, like they had evaporated in place. Plates of still-warm food sat on tables. Meat and vegetables were still roasting over fires. It was quite eerie. John didn't want to deal with other people just yet. He was still naked and still felt quite gross, his hair especially was hard to clean and he didn't feel like shaving it off. Quickly walking to his childhood home, he took a very cold bath and scrubbed off with soap three times. He did his hair six times. Thankfully, part of his advancement made him less sensitive to the cold. He could still feel it, but his body was able to resist it easily.

Grabbing a spare robe from his pack, he got dressed and fetched the villagers. It wasn't hard to find them by utilizing his enhanced range of qi sense. Everyone was frightened. Almost everyone was frightened of him John realized. That realization stung quite a bit. John had ultimately become the disaster that he feared. Cultivators and mortals were like oil and water in the end, no matter what he did. John simply informed them that the demon beast had been slain, and that it was safe to return. It really was safe, for now. Until the next disaster came along.

None of the villagers moved immediately, and while his family seemed to trust him still, they were stuck in place with apprehension like everyone else. John simply turned around and walked back home. That seemed to spur people into action.

----------------------------------------

When everyone was home, John found there was a slight awkwardness with his family again. Less estrangement and more... recognition of the differences in their life paths now. They still laughed together and joked about the past, but they all avoided speaking of how the village was almost wiped out, and how John had maybe came close to death, and how he might have been responsible for bringing this apocalypse down on their heads in the first place.

In the morning, John had breakfast with his family one last time, said his goodbyes, and left.