The sun spilled its last rays of light, painting the sky with warm shades of orange and pink. Between the southern and eastern regions of the continent, a small village nestled among the mountains, known as Tupelo, was surrounded by thick walls, creating a serene atmosphere, although a subtle tension still hung in the air.
It was another ordinary day, and atop the walls, dozens of sentries patrolled the village's edges, alert to any signs of danger. Clad in clothes adorned with multicolored symbols on their chests, all were members of the Three Extremes Sect. Their vigilant eyes scanned the surroundings, looking for suspicious movements or hints of threat, but everything seemed normal, as usual.
Within the village, the sturdy stone walls provided a backdrop of security. Families prepared for the night, closing doors and windows and expressing gratitude for the protection provided by the walls. However, even with this apparent tranquility, everyone was aware that the true danger lay beyond the walls. The enemy was not a fierce beast but something more sinister and cunning.
The rise of the Three Extremes Sect to become the largest sect on the planet was not a result of chance or luck. The western region of the planet was inhabited by incredibly powerful beasts concentrated in a vast forest. Those who lacked the ability to protect themselves were forced to keep their distance, leading to the occupation of regions with higher resource concentrations: the south and north of the planet, thus giving rise to two enormous nations.
In the past, the central region was known only as the 'Neutral Zone,' located in the center of the planet. It was a meeting point for talented people from the north and south, focused on trade and the exchange of knowledge. Over time, this small city transformed into the safest place to live, free from real dangers, becoming a point where talented cultivators could progress safely. It didn't take long for a skilled cultivator to unite the two regions, creating the Three Extremes Sect, which eventually dominated everything and everyone.
Cultivation was an obligation for all races, but not everyone was willing to delve deep into this path. There were always those who preferred to avoid a life of struggles for resources or the constant risk of premature death. However, over the millennia, an even more terrifying danger than anyone could imagine began to haunt those seeking a peaceful life.
These days, the Three Extremes Sect has grown to the point where no danger dares to come near its domains. However, all the resources in that central location were quickly consumed, leading to the creation of villages at strategic points, protected by cultivators provided by the sect itself. Naturally, these cultivators provided by the sect were usually newcomers with cultivation levels that, at best, reached the first realm.
Even with the sect's protection, sinister threats still persisted. It was not uncommon to hear news of entire villages being wiped out. On that day, the village Tupelo, shrouded in twilight, remained vigilant, maintaining a fragile balance between illusory peace and the constant threat looming beyond its walls.
On that same night, when it was nearly midnight, a flickering red light, like an infernal flame, illuminated the night horizon. Casting distorted shadows over the surrounding lands, the ominous light was unmistakable for anyone miles away, indicating a threatening presence rising in the direction of the village Tupelo.
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The identity of that light quickly revealed itself, and horror was instilled in the minds of those who witnessed it. It was not an ordinary fire but a devouring fire of death and destruction.
Over the walls that once housed the sentries of the Three Extremes Sect, there was no more life. The silhouette of the sentinels no longer stood out against the night sky; instead, what was seen were shadowy figures, devoid of mercy, now watching with sinister smiles.
Within the boundaries of the village Tupelo, chaos reigned. Cultivators clad in red garments, in an apocalyptic vision, reaped innocent lives. The cutting edge of their blades met minimal resistance from the frail and mediocre cultivators. Cries of anguish echoed through the once peaceful streets, transforming into a macabre chorus of despair.
The frenzy of destruction unfolded so rapidly that most inhabitants barely had time to process what was happening. A small contingent still ran in desperation. However, the gruesome fate was like an inexorable sentence.
The weapons wielded by the cultivators dressed in red were stained with blood, but instead of dripping, the blood vanished instantly, absorbed by the weapons themselves. After absorption, these weapons emitted a sinister aura, as if they were demonic entities hungry for blood that had detected a delicious scent. A voracious longing pulsed in these weapons.
They were all disciples of the corrupt path, and every time they killed someone, a mist of blood was absorbed by their bodies. This blood acted as a kind of intoxicant, leaving them even more exhilarated while their eyes filled with a bloodthirsty gleam.
After some time, at the top of the walls, far from everyone's senses, two shadows blended with the dark night and silently observed the chaos. The size disparity between them was noticeable: one, colossal and round like a whale, exuded an imposing presence; the other, a small girl who starkly contrasted with the magnitude of the first figure.
At the top of the wall, Mira's small figure, who had been watching everything for a few minutes, trembled slightly, unable to keep her gaze on that infernal scene. Then, the burly Gael sighed softly and began to speak.
"People of the Corrupt Path have their own beliefs and convictions. Their belief is very simple: natural selection. They think a person should be strong, and the weak are just stepping stones for the strong."
The small figure heard these words and realized she had averted her gaze. So, she forced herself to stay firm.
"What they believe in the most is strength. Strength is everything to them. As long as they have strength, they can unleash all their desires without limits, regardless of any morality." Gael continued explaining in a didactic manner.
This kind of cultivation was common anywhere and everywhere in the universe. Despite the immense karma generated, which could result in premature deaths, the strength and potential were so great that none of them cared. They preferred to live fully as if it were their last day rather than always worrying about an uncertain future.
Mira nodded with clear disgust, understanding the teachings. She couldn't retreat or fear. After all, they were heading straight to a place where everyone who lived there had this disturbing mentality.
Gael then concluded. "Fair and corrupt cultivations don't mean they are truly bad or good. The Corrupt Path follows the laws of survival of the fittest. Only the strong will rule, and the weak will die. The reason they are called evil cultivators is because they have no qualms about killing."
"You're still young and haven't seen the worst of people yet. Fair and good cultivation can often be much more malicious than evil and corrupt cultivation. Corruption, greed, and betrayal are everywhere. It's very common for so-called 'Heroes' to falsely accuse a group of evil just to rob and kill them in the name of justice."
"So, you have to weigh it with your own intelligence. And never believe in anything that can't be proven. Don't be deceived by appearances or pretty words."
Mira nodded gently, seeming to understand something. How many people knew about her situation, and how many tried to help her? Only this man, considered fat, ugly, and mediocre, gave her an opportunity and still took care of her every day, even if he didn't admit it. Appearances can't guide anything in life, only actions.
At that moment, Zane spoke mentally. 'I know she's a promise of future beauty, but you don't need to create so many external defenses in her mind. We can have a better appearance in the future.'
'My intentions are pure, idiot.' Gael replied, exasperated.