Meanwhile, inside the only three-story building in Tianji Village, chaos erupted. The dim, flickering lantern light cast an eerie glow, their flames dancing erratically as if sensing the turmoil unfolding.
Shadows of advancing figures slashed through the air, their jians reflecting the warm orange gleam amidst the encroaching darkness. The acrid scent of fear and blood permeated the air, mixing with the musty odor of old wood and dust.
SWOOSH!
Dust and splintered wood exploded outward as white shoes advanced, the debris swirling around them like an avalanche cascading down a mountain slope.
The sound of cracking timber reverberated through the chamber, mingling with the metallic ring of clashing blades. Splinters flew in all directions, embedding themselves in flesh and fabric alike, adding to the cacophony of pain and destruction.
"H-how, w-why Ku—" A scream tore through the chaos, the voice quivering with terror as the unmistakable hiss of steel jians being unleashed from their sheaths sliced the air. The words caught in the speaker's throat, choked off by fear and disbelief.
In the next fevered moment, a guttural cry of agony pierced the room, the anguished sound hanging heavy like the crimson droplets now raining down.
"Arghh! My hands! My hands! How dare you! Kunlun is attacking!" The speaker's words dissolved into a groaning rasp of pain, his severed hand still clutching the jian as it fell lifeless beside him. The sickening crunch of bone and sinew being rent apart echoed through the room, followed by the dull thud of flesh hitting wood.
Reddened eyes, wide with disbelief and agony, glared accusingly at the white-robed figures adorned with dark crimson stripes - the unmistakable regalia of Kunlun's Inner Disciples. Veins bulged in the wounded man's forehead, his face contorted in a grotesque mask of pain and rage.
"Y-you Kunlun broke your promise!" The accusation rang out, laced with fury as the wounded man frantically tried to staunch the torrent of blood now pouring from his shattered limb, his remaining hand trembling violently. Crimson rivulets snaked between his fingers, dripping steadily onto the floor in a growing pool of life essence.
The leader of this Kunlun attacking group remained motionless, their visage an emotionless mask as they surveyed the carnage with cold indifference.
"Destroy his Dantians and meridians," the leader commanded, their tone as frigid as the reception their orders received. The words hung in the air like a death sentence, sending shivers down the spines of those who heard them.
Countless martial artists littered the floor, their jade-colored hanfu - once pristine and adorned with the emblem of the blossoming Jade Blossom Traders who managed Tianji Village - now torn and soaked in the very lifeblood of those who wore them.
Bodies lay in twisted heaps, limbs askew at unnatural angles, eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. The once-beautiful fabric of their robes now served as makeshift shrouds, clinging wetly to cooling flesh.
Glazed eyes stared upward, bodies twitching feebly as the last vestiges of their Qi seeped away, meridians destroyed and Dantianss obliterated by the ruthless assault. Their severed limbs and the pools of viscous crimson surrounding them told a grisly tale of the one-sided battle that had transpired.
"But, Young Lady... I think this might be too cruel..."
One of the Kunlun disciples spoke up hesitantly, his gaze shifting toward the imposing young woman, the leader of this operation. Despite the blood now streaking her raven tresses and the macabre scene surrounding them, her deep crimson eyes remained chillingly impassive, devoid of any flicker of remorse.
A portrait of ethereal beauty marred by frigid ruthlessness as she surveyed the broken bodies and spilled blood with an air of cold detachment.
Cutting off these people's martial paths meant condemning them to certain death in the upcoming Tower challenge that loomed ahead.
Yet despite this grim reality, the disciple who dared question the Young Lady saw her cold, unflinching gaze briefly fall upon him.
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Her expression remained utterly devoid of emotion, an eerie detachment as if she were untouched by the brutality unfolding around them - separated from the visceral realities of the world by an impenetrable veil of indifference.
"So, you're telling me to spare the enemies, yet they can slaughter our family? That's just naïve, Senior Brother." Her voice carried a biting edge, dripping with disdain and mockery as she strolled forward with a disquieting casualness. Her jian glinted dimly, fresh crimson droplets sliding down the length of the blade - remnants of the life she had so callously severed mere moments ago.
"It's not—" The wavering disciple tried to mount a feeble refutation, but another of the Inner Disciples silenced him with a sharp, accusatory glare. This one had just finished methodically destroying the meridians and Dantians of another fallen foe, leaving their martial path irreparably ruined.
"I agree with Junior Sister Mu, Brother. These people are scum, leeches." His words slithered forth with an unsettling zeal. "We gave them a place and a safe warrant to trade, yet they dared to massacre our Juniors and Sisters, our family in secret!"
A twisted smile played across his lips, eyes sparkling with a deeply unsettling glint as they shifted back towards their cold-blooded leader with an almost fawning admiration. "Wait for me, Junior Sister!"
As the raven-haired beauty remained utterly unmoved, her burning crimson gaze sweeping over the carnage with callous indifference, that twisted young man trailed eagerly in her wake like a hyena drawn to the scent of fresh blood.
On the other hand, the remaining Kunlun disciples exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions a conflicted mix of hesitation and disquiet as the groans and pleading cries of the mutilated people from Jade Blossom Traders filled the air around them.
"Aren't we walking the orthodox path? This is so wrong..." One of the disquieted disciples half-knelt beside the broken form of a man from the Jade Blossom Traders whose legs had been severed, his blood pooling out in rivulets as his eyes stared vacantly - dull and lifeless like those of a dead fish.
"Why did you betray Kunlun and join hands with the unorthodox, my Brother?" The kneeling disciple's words carried a strained pity as he surveyed the shattered condition of the man before him.
Hearing the disciple's pained question, the legless man on the bloodied floor let out a rasping, sarcastic laugh that bordered on delirium.
His laughter sound chilling, and guttural, that seemed to emanate from the very depths of his shattered body. His jade hanfu were now torn and soaked crimson, the fabric clinging to his mangled form like a second skin.
"Aren't you... hypocrites too?" he muttered through gritted teeth, the words carrying the weight of his betrayal as he expended the last of his waning energy. Spittle and blood flecked his lips, his face contorted in a grotesque mask of pain and bitter irony. His expression withered, eyes slipping shut though his ragged breathing continued.
Quan Wei, the kneeling disciple, bit down hard on his lower lip, fist clenching as turmoil gripped him. His knuckles turned white with the force of his grip, nails digging crescents into his palm.
A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, mingling with the splattered blood on his cheek. "Damn it! I'll bring these people back!" The anguished vow burst forth, fueled by an inextinguishable flicker of compassion amidst the sea of brutality. His voice cracked with emotion, the words echoing in the oppressive silence that had fallen over the scene of carnage.
"You can't, Brother Quan! Young Lady Mu will be enraged if she finds out!" Another disciple cautioned in hushed tones, deliberately avoiding looking upon the dying people from the Jade Blossom Traders. Their heart also hung heavy with the same conflicted pain, yet what could they do when the cold-blooded leader of the operation remained utterly silent and indifferent to their pleas?
"I'll take responsibility! Brothers, please help me carry these people!" Desperation edged Quan Wei's shout as his reddened eyes implored the other hesitating disciples
...
Meanwhile, in another place, Ji Wuye observed another fighting scene from afar. A sly smile played on his lips as his gleaming crimson eyes danced between the transparent, flickering screens and the chaos erupting before him.
image [https://i.ibb.co.com/YPpGPLk/Notif-1.webp]
image [https://i.ibb.co.com/YPpGPLk/Notif-1.webp]
image [https://i.ibb.co.com/YPpGPLk/Notif-1.webp]
The stream of alerts grew, each one marking Ji Wuye's deepening comprehension as his attention shifted between the ethereal displays and the visceral clash of martial artists.
BOOM!
The collision of 5th and 6th realm fighters, their jians wreathed in brilliantly colored Sword Aura, triggered explosive elemental reactions that shattered the very paving stones beneath their feet. The air crackled with energy, the scent of burnt stone filling the nostrils of all present. Shards of rock flew in all directions, peppering the combatants with stinging debris.
And of of course, the Kunlun disciples clearly held the advantage, their greater numbers slowly overwhelming the beleaguered opposition.
"Bastards! Fight me one-on-one!" The enraged bellow erupted from one of the outnumbered unorthodox artists, blood streaking down the left side of his face from a gash in his forehead as he found himself surrounded by two Kunlun Inner Disciples. Defiance burning bright amidst the hopeless struggle.
His eyes blazed with a mixture of fury and desperation, his sword arm trembling with exhaustion as he raised his weapon in a final, futile gesture of resistance.
Around his battered form lay the still corpses of many who had fallen before the relentless Kunlun onslaught, slain by the very disciples who now surrounded him. The ground was a macabre tapestry of broken bodies, discarded weapons, and pooling blood. The stench of death hung heavy in the air, a nauseating mixture of copper and voided bowels that assaulted the senses.
Yet he stood alone, the last one left standing despite numerous injuries - a battered bastion amidst the sea of death. His breathing was labored, each inhalation a painful rasp that sent ripples of agony through his lacerated torso. Sweat mingled with blood, creating rivulets that traced the contours of his face and dripped from his chin.
His stance was unsteady, legs trembling with fatigue, but his eyes still burned with an inextinguishable fire of defiance.
But the Kunlun forces had not emerged unscathed. Many disciples wore robes torn asunder, stained crimson testaments to the brutal toll the fight had extracted. The once-pristine garments now hung in tatters, revealing glimpses of bruised flesh and hastily bandaged wounds beneath. Some limped, favoring injuries that would likely leave lasting scars, both physical and mental.
Some carried wounded comrades on their backs, only to be immediately replaced by fresh reinforcements flowing in from their nearby base.
BOOM!
Once again, the explosive collision of martial arts resumed with cataclysmic force, jian blades wreathed in kaleidoscopic light as elemental auras clashed.
Yet amidst the visceral spectacle, Ji Wuye's crimson eyes narrowed as a different transparent display flickered into existence before him.
image [https://i.ibb.co/Mp9xLWV/Notif-2.webp]