“Like father like son. Daughter thieves, the lot of you madlander scum. To think you’d be having an affair with a betrothed Su Princess. I should have killed you when you were born,” Youjin Fuqiang spat, taking a step forward. His speech was mocking, and his eyes were cruel, yet there was something in his tone that made Yung look up.

It was amusement.

“N-Not, affair—” Yung opened his mouth to speak, but could only cough up blood.

“I will tear the skin from your body and deliver your head one hair’s width at a time, devil. To deny the lord and cultivate such perverted arts. How low you have fallen. A life wasted, the irony of Youjin Bao protecting your sorry soul is just too laughable,” the old patriarch said. His footsteps were crisp against the quiet of the cavern, back-dropped slightly by Yung’s own groans and the mocking grunts of the hooded cultists. “Did that fool Liu call you and Old Bao back to the clan? You must have lived a nice five years, without even knowing what kind of failure you are.”

Yung coughed harder, supporting his body on the ground with a split-open palm. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Nanya. She had her head down, her lips moving. She wasn’t talking.

No, her real lips are still. That’s… an overlapped image?

“If only the dead old fool could see you now,” Youjin Fuqiang said. He waved his shaky fingers, perhaps the effect of the Pink Heart Beam had not completely worn off. “Your name, was it Yung, surnamed Ziyou? What a pretentious moniker, to dare mock eternity itself which is our lord’s domain. Did you know, your adulterous mother was once betrothed to my own youngest? She was a dark mother cultivated from her teen years with unimaginable voidfiend grafts! She was to bring glory to this realm, yet then, alas.”

Yung blinked. He tried to glare at Youjin Fuqiang but found no rage. Only shock. Dark mother?

“Your grandfather was my closest retainer, my most trusted brother. Trash he was at cultivation, he was a worthy ear to consult. Always had strange ideas in his scheming brain. But look at what has happened now,” Youjin Fuqiang’s voice seemed to leave his throat with a boiling intensity, “He was the one who brought me to worship the lord at first, yet his own grandson dares to stand in the lord’s path.”

“I-I-What, are you—?” Yung gasped. His grandfather was… what? “L-Liar!”

“So you do not know. How… sheltered.” Youjin Fuqiang said, “Old Bao, was he pretending to be a good guy until the very end? I suppose if I were still present in the Youjin Clan, he would not have dared to show his shameless face there. My heart aches, how much five years can change the world.” The former patriarch laughed out loud in his throaty voice, “It brings bile to my mouth just thinking about it. Devil, tell me, do you know the reason why your mother was so quick to sire you with your scum madlander of a father after my youngest departed the mortal plane to be by the lord’s side as tribute?”

Yung felt his heartbeat rise. He wanted to cover his ears, but he didn’t get the chance. Did the old patriarch’s children not die? No, if Youjin Fuqiang was in on the ruse from the start—Mother… grandpa… he’s lying!

Youjin Fuqiang waved his hand.

Thin wisps of silk bindings appeared from all directions, biting into Yung’s skin like razor wires. He cried out in pain before coughing up more blood.

Youjin Fuqiang made a peculiar series of hand mudras. Yung’s body, bound by the enchaining silk, rose up as though he was a cocoon hung from the ceiling.

Soon, another silk wire wrapped around his neck.

“Because your father was a traitor to the lord’s cause, seducing your mother with his honeyed words to be part of his treachery! He was merely a replacement seed donor for the dark mother, a political compromise with the Madlander parts of our cause. The original seed, the glory of siring the first dark child of the region should have rightfully gone to my own youngest if not for—!” Youjin Fuqiang said, almost hyperventilating. But just as fast, his voice calmed down its tempo.

“If it weren’t for your parents, the lord’s ambition would have succeeded fourteen years ago. You, a failed experiment, what right do you have to live now that you have utterly failed to perform your original duties? A child birthed from a dark mother after many years of painstaking cultivation, yet with no void for flesh and fiend for blood! How dare they waste all the resources we have provided. Not only did they not imbue your body and soul with the lord’s blessing, but to even remove them! Two years! Two years they were able to trick our eyes. You were supposed to be the perfect design, yet now, you are merely a leftover husk. And then, to fall as low to help the enemies of the lord, to scheme with the vixens. If only old Bao could see you now.”

Youjin Fuqiang’s shadow loomed over Yung like an ominous obelisk. The tall abomination continued, “You know, we only found out about the ruse when a summoned voidfiend viper bit you. Voidfiends don’t disobey dark children. So why did the viper poison you so readily? And now, why are you still alive to live until sixteen?”

The silk threads strangled slightly harder. Yung felt the familiar prick of skin being pierced.

“Because Old Bao wept and begged. Your parents died a deserved death. Who do you think executed them?” Youjin Fuqiang said with a grim smile, “It was your grandfather.”

No. No, he didn’t! Yung could feel the tears welling up.

The old patriarch closed his eyes. “How… useless. The lord granted you mercy, the old beggar even spoke on your behalf for Youjin Bao. Bao was merely crippled into the Imperfect Heaven 1st realm as punishment, and you were to be raised as a pawn. Yet you cannot even do that. So what use is it for you to waste the lord’s mercy any longer?”

The old patriarch opened his eyes again, this time they were resolute.

“You shall die slow,” Youjin Fuqiang declared. “A death a long time coming. Be proud of the pain you shall feel, for it is the atonement for your parents' sins.”

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The wire cut into Yung’s neck deeper. He coughed harder. His dantian felt like it was collapsing. He had used too much True qi and the fallout was a world of pain.

The silk wire seemed to enter under Yung’s skin, slithering in the area between his skin and muscle, slowly separating the layers of fat, one painful inch at a time.

Yung saw red. His lungs were on fire, tears of blood blurred his vision. But he couldn't speak. Couldn’t call Youjin Fuqiang out for his lies.

“Is it painful? Is it shameful? It’s far better than what you deserve, far better than the inconvenience—”

“Arf!” A bark broke Youjin Fuqiang’s words, followed by an explosion.

“Kye!”

“Arf!”

Yung felt the rush of warm wind hit the side of his face.

“What now!?” The exhaustion in Youjin Fuqiang’s voice was palpable.

Through his blurry vision, Yung saw the old patriarch jump away as a talisman hit the area between him and Yung. Something happened, and the silk threads snapped.

Yung’s body fell down on his chest like a bag. He groaned, trying to lift his head up.

Four fluffy paws stepped in front of him. A critter buzzed next to his ear, and he felt something small weigh down on his head.

“Ow, Silky. You’re heavy,” Yung managed to cough out. The sound of his voice should have been inaudible, but the little critter chirped nonetheless. It was a comforting weight, as if temporarily washing away the dark revelations Youjin Fuqiang had just shared.

“Y-You’re lying! Grandpa was crippled by the voidfiends. My mother and father died in the voidfiend rush you cultists caused and not because of your made up story!” Yung was finally able to yell out a response. It felt guttural, visceral. How he cursed the face he could read the musing in Youjin Fuqiang’s Empathic Link.

Youjin Fuqiang merely tutted. “What reason would I have to—oh. This day just keeps getting better and better.” He looked at the small critter on Yung’s head with bloodshot compound eyes. “I see now. So that’s how you survived, pest. Was it a last-minute soul contract? With this… Madlander devil?” Youjin Fuqiang said. “No, not devil. But just a pervert. To twist faith qi into such a depraved state.”

“Arf!” Madam Floofykins barked again. She must have used her talismans to open a path to Yung.

“And another Su spawn,” Youjin Fuqiang said, then laughed out loud like a maniac. His voice was tinged half with glee and half with madness. The Empathic Link coming from him even read a bit of amusement. “I cannot deny my luck! No, perhaps this is the lord’s grand manipulations. I see, I see now. The lord has diverted fate itself to use you, a discarded pawn, for one final task. You have not only brought me two Su spawns and the Free Sparrow Gang annoyances, but also something extra!” The old patriarch said. “Two occultic foxballs to harvest. I can cleanse my clan of the shame of having Madlander blood. But most of all,”

Yung’s blurred vision cleared of red as the mad patriarch talked. He could now see the emotions clearly stamped onto Youjin Fuqiang’s face. The abomination’s Empathic Link changed, turning to hatred. Yet still, there was that slight bit of gratefulness mixed in with his disgust.

“I can take revenge against the filthy Yaoguai that dared to ruin my plans!” Youjin Fuqiang said, the mirth in his voice absolute, his clawed hands itching for payback.

“Kyi!” Silky chirped, determination radiating from his small body.

“Arf!” Floofy stood guard, her fangs bared, and kicked her hind legs against the ground as if ready to launch.

“Come here, pest,” Youjin Fuqiang commanded, snapping his clawed fingers erratically. They made noises of bones popping and scales grinding against each other, sparking with sinister void qi.

“Grrrr,” Floofy growled, stalking with her head low.

“Kye!” Silky’s wings buzzed, and he flew up, surrounded by a shimmering sphere of faith qi, resembling a firefly in the pitch darkness of night. The light gust from his wings breezed across Yung's bloody face.

There was a broken base of a long-crumbling stalagmite poking sharply into his left abdomen. He tried to get up, but his right arm didn’t budge.

No, it did. Ever so slightly.

Right, the bindings. Yung thought his bindings were made of the same silk that bound Nanya. But when he moved his right arm this time with force, the bindings unwound with some resistance.

The silk threads fell to the ground, and Yung pushed his body up to a sitting position.

These… are not the same threads. In his Link Sight, the bindings looked like normal dim gold silk, albeit corrupted by a hefty serving of void and fear qi. Different from the ones that bound Nanya which appeared transparent.

Yung breathed in deep and slow.

Om in, om out.

For now, he discarded the words Youjin Fuqiang had said from his mind. At least tried to.

Now isn’t the time! It’s obviously this old bastard messing with me.

Yung did not know if Silky and Floofy could ever be a match for the old monster. But with the remaining part of his pitifully low amount of true qi, he hoped he could do something.

Anything.

To prove Youjin Fuqiang’s words wrong.

The monster in question snapped his clawed fingers. Silk threads surrounded the trio like a maelstrom, ready to rip them apart.

Silky buzzed louder, his wings flapping in frequencies Yung could not even follow. And the sphere qi surrounding the critter grew to blinding intensity in a mere second.

Do they have a plan? Yung tried to ask the yaoguai. Only confident chirps came back.

Youjin Fuqiang’s silk threads touched Silky’s sphere of faith qi. At the contact point, sizzling smoke and sounds wafted out. It reminded Yung of the faith qi barrier Silky had deployed when he first regained memories as Jung, to save him from the Wretched Hornbeasts.

But the barrier was different now.

It pushed back against the silken attack.

“What?” Youjin Fuqiang was shocked, retreating back.

Because the faith qi that touched the silk melded into it, then flowed up the threads backwards, as if it was liquid going through narrow pipes.

For a split second, the space of the cavern was lit up by Youjin Fuqiang’s silken threads infected by Silky’s golden faith qi, which reached all the way up to Youjin Fuqiang’s clawed fingertips.

“Accursed yaoguai!” The old patriarch roared, cutting the silk threads off from his body.

“Arf!” Floofy barked, then leaped, like a catapult. She had been building up power in her legs for a while.

One moment, she was in front of Yung, the next, she was merely a few steps away from Youjin Fuqiang. Midair.

Silky poofed down, falling like an inflated balloon. Yung caught him by cupping his palms. A part of Silky’s fuzz grazed Yung’s split palms, yet he could not feel the pain because his gaze was focused ahead.

A rain of talismans followed Floofy as Youjin Fuqiang punched out a clawed fist to retaliate.

The talismans exploded.

“Floofy!” Yung screamed out. At that range, they would hit the fluffy fox too.

But before Yung could worry more, a pained scream echoed out from the dust cloud.

It was Youjin Fuqiang’s, and it sounded as if the man’s very liver was being kicked while scalp was removed. Shrill, hoarse, agonizingly grating.

A rainbow light burst out with hollow foxes dancing in the air, and Yung could finally see what was happening.

“Arf!” The last of Floofy’s body disappeared as though it had turned into a glass mirage, disintegrating into fragments of transparent crystal shards. At her core was another Occultic Foxball, and as if propelled faster with the force of the exploding talismans, it collided violently with the Occultic Foxball at Youjin Fuqiang’s chest.

The space quaked, the realities roared.

And above it all, Yung saw it.

A being of unfathomable size, rising up above the infinite heavens and reaching down below the abyssal depths. Amorphous, without set form. It covered everything and everyone, with its goo-like body.

And Celestial Link like appendages.

And at the heart of the all encompassing being beyond unimaginable distances, was a small white fox lazing on a bronze broad-sword, wearing a jade crown, staring at Yung feebly.