✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧.˚ *•̩̩͙ ✩. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. ˚ *•̩̩͙ ✩

Wei’s head was pounding.

He quickly grabbed all of the party’s collapsed bodies, grouping them together before casting a spiritual barrier around him. The barrier would prevent anyone from attacking any of the party members—they were surrounded in what looked like a glowing blue bubble.

Hissing through his teeth, Wi rested his violently throbbing forehead against his hand. Recently, Wei was constantly overtaken by powerful headaches that only got worse.

Who are you? Wei asked himself, staring down at Peijin’s unconscious body.

When he had been pinned on the Anyang wall, stabbed, gored, and murdered repeatedly at the hands of his very own worshippers, the very same people he devoted his life to protecting, not a single thought could course through his failing mind preoccupied with the overbearing pain.

But in the silence that followed after he had been nothing more than long strands of human skin and organs, he thought of two things—his family and the weird, rude, and crass cultivator who suddenly appeared and sided with him throughout the war.

Except, Peijin wasn’t a cultivator in his memories—she was a woman with a short bob, blue hoodie, and that same glaring expression.

“Do exactly as I say, because if you don’t, Wei will die at my hand.”

“As soon as the room starts, you’ll lose all your memories.”

That voice echoed in his mind, but Wei couldn't pinpoint where he would have even heard such a phrase—nor what context they would be spoken in.

Had Peijin not offered a hand to both Meihua and himself, what would have happened?

Wei groaned, grabbing onto his head as more thoughts or memories—he didn’t even know what they were anymore—flashed before him. It didn’t matter right now; he needed to find Meihua and Ailun.

He grabbed his bloodied white ribbon out of the puddle of his organs and bones and quickly tied his hair back up with it. One could hardly tell it was white anymore, but with a wave of his hand and just a bit of spiritual energy, it returned to its pristine state.

Without an ounce of hesitation, Wei stabbed into his forearm with his blade, blood trickling out. He threw the tip of his sword into the ground to steady it as he dragged his index and middle finger through the wound, coating them in the thick scarlet liquid.

His blood seemed to glimmer with spiritual energy from Chang’s scale. He had no clue why such a low-ranking gremlin would be here, but he didn’t question it.

Wei squatted down on the ground and elegantly tucked in his new white robes as he dragged his fingers on the ground, forming a seal. The quickening beat of his heart made him feel like he was suffocating, barely able to breathe due to his sheer anxiety.

A week ago, This Highness could have gone head-to-head with Daji and come out victorious.

Now? Wei would be lucky to walk away with his life spared.

He bit down on his tongue as he finished drawing the teleportation seal to his parent’s house. Tearing his sword from the ground, Wei promptly activated the seal.

The seal remained perfectly still on the ground, dull and inactive.

Wei’s heart fell.

He’d have to get to his parent’s place manually—and if Meihua and Ailun were already fighting Daji, they’d be weak by the time he made it.

With a deep inhale, Wei redirected his spiritual energy to his legs, feeling it swirl and move all around as his body heated up and tingled.

He sprung forward at godly speeds, bursting straight through the wall and past all the civilians who were now invading Anyang. Had they seen him, they would have tackled him out of fear of facing Wei's wrath, completely forgetting their half-hearted promises about lighting him candles.

Yet Wei was moving so fast, he was nothing but a passing breeze that disturbed a few strands of their hair.

Except to a familiar man in front of the crowd, who turned, his eyes following Wei.

Wei’s form darted and weaved through trees, flattening out the grass beneath him as he seemed to fly through.

What did “justice” or “fairness” even mean to Wei anymore? Was it the utter abandonment of his people for his family?

Was it justice for Wei’s people to take matters into their own hands after his mortifying failures to stop the Zhou Army or the demonic plague?

Was this his retribution?

Meihua’s bright smile and flowing chocolate hair appeared in his mind before the illusion was shattered by the drab, lifeless expression that filled her face when she watched him get stabbed through the heart thousands of times.

Tears welled up in his reddening eyes but he quickly blinked them away, bringing up a white robe to wipe at his face as his lower lip trembled. A sob rose in his throat but he held it back, the only sign of his overwhelming pain in the tremble of his lashes.

Wei had always been an emotional man—too sympathetic and empathetic for his own good. It was what made him the greatest divinity, but it was also what made him weak enough to be trampled.

Even if this was how Wei would be repaid, and even if he would be stripped of all his divine powers in the end, he couldn’t hate these people. Because if Meihua and Ailun and all the others were alive, then there must be other good people left in the world, too.

At least, that’s what Wei wanted to cling onto.

The forest path became more and more familiar as he could make out the tip of the shrine peeking out through the trees before he suddenly skid to a halt.

The green grass below him was colored a deep red.

But weren’t Meihua and Ailun headed to his parent’s place?

His eyes tracked the bloody mess on the ground into a cluster of looming, dark trees, and Wei felt his heart tighten in his chest. The scent of peach blossoms and lilies filled the air, giving the scene a light, iridescent glow.

If Meihua released this powerful of a skill, she must’ve been gravely injured.

And if Ailun didn’t warn him with his communication skills…

“Daji… I’ll kill you!” Wei swore, darting into the forest and leaping through it, his feet no longer touching the ground as he flew toward the end of the bloody path. His heart beat relentlessly in his suffocating chest, his face growing more and more red as he could no longer stop for breath.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The buzzing in his ears grew louder and louder; Wei readjusted his grip on the hilt of his sword, trying to hide how much he was trembling.

What if what he found at the end of the trail wasn’t Meihua? What if all he saw was the bloodied and mutilated corpse of his most beloved, clinging onto Ailun until her last breath?

He grit his teeth and finally reached the end of the path, eyes wide and crazed.

“Wei!”

Ailun’s shrill voice screamed his name, and it was no longer quiet or timid or a familiar “Your Highness.”

Before Wei could even let out a sigh of relief or cry out in joy, Ailun’s voice screamed once more.

“Ha ha ha! Wei! Wei is too late!”

Before Wei, a vile, grotesque sight met him; bile rose immediately in his throat, burning him.

A towering white fox with nine flapping tails met him, its long and snarled teeth coated in both dry and wet blood. Its face was nimble and thin, almost beautiful, apart from its muzzle stained in crimson and its jeering yellow eyes. Its sharp, pearly white teeth had pieces of pink flesh stuck between.

One of its arms was held up beside its cocked head—with Ailun skewered on its finger. Daji’s two black claws had pierced through his small chin and throat and were playing him like a puppet.

The fox’s face twisted into a mocking sneer, light dancing in its eyes.

“Your Highness, save me! Save me!” Ailun’s small mouth moved up and down with each word, and the rest of his body shook in the air as he was controlled like a puppet on strings. Blood dripped down the gash in his throat all the way down to his foot, smearing Daji’s white fur coat.

Wei froze at the scene, all that adrenaline and anger in him seeming to vanish all at once. An eerie numbness traversed throughout his entire body as he stared at his younger brother’s corpse being played like a tool before him.

Suddenly, he took a mortified step back, his sword violently trembling.

Ailun’s eyes were filled with tears as they darted around and blinked at Wei.

Ailun was alive.

Daji cocked Ailun’s head to the side to match her own pose, still mocking Wei. “What’s wrong, Your Highness?” Daji spoke through Ailun’s body, “Cat got your tongue?”

One of the sharp claws in Ailun’s mouth moved and played with his small, swollen tongue. Ailun’s body seemed to gag as an immediate response, but he could only feebly claw at the massive hand that held him.

“Y-You…” Wei stammered, his vision going red. “How dare you?!” Wei roared, his cultivation robes flying around him in a flurry of violent, dangerous, and uncontrollable spiritual energy.

Suddenly, a small whimper behind him caught his attention. It was barely audible and quickly carried away by the breeze of spiritual energy.

Meihua’s body clawed toward Wei. A trail of blood was behind her, growing as she dug her hands into the ground and moved forward one grueling bit at a time. Clutched in her arms was the serpent’s eye, glowing with demonic energy. Its bright red pupil was shooting around and taking in all the surrounding sights.

Her robes seemed to fall flat just after her torso, and they were soaked in blood. As Meihua pushed herself up, flashing Wei that warm smile, he noticed it.

One of her legs was completely torn off.

“I’m really sorry, Wei,” she whispered, bright tears streaming down her face now. They pooled at her lashes before they fell down like bright orbs, splattering on the ground below her. “I really… I really…”

Even with Yang worshiping both divinities using Chang’ scales, it didn’t matter if no one believed in these two.

And no one did.

Daji’s tails suddenly grew, waving all around her and seeming to grow until they hid the glowing sun with their thick fur. At once, they shot forward—straight at Meihua.

Wei lept forward and with a few flicks of his sword deflected the tails relentlessly; they were never ending, pushing him further and further back until he slammed into a tree. He picked up Meihua into one of his arms, shielding her body as they both were thrown into the ground.

“Don’t waste your breath trying to talk to me!” Wei screamed, his voice hoarse as he held back his tears. “Heal yourself! Heal yourself!” he repeated frantically, “You have enough spiritual power from Yang!”

Meihua grabbed a hold of her pink ribbon sword again and whipped it against the ground—but for whatever reason, it didn’t seem to respond to her nearly as well. In fact, its base was slowly turning black.

“Yeah, from Yang? He's a sweet boy. Peijin works really hard for us too, Wei.”

A mixture of sheer horror, frustration, and utter despair bloomed in Wei’s chest. Blood soaked all of Meihua’s robes, and she looked like a fragment of the woman she was.

“Stop it! Conserve your energy, Meihua!”

Meihua gently shut her eyes, her lashes twinkling from moisture as a few more tears slid down her cheeks. “I am,” she whispered softly. The only time in her life that she had made a decision for herself and her family, it ended like this.

Daji’s claws swept toward the duo as Ailun’s body was violently swaying back and forth on her claws. Ailun tried to let out a strangled cry, but Daji would quickly shut his mouth and dig her nails further into his chin.

Carrying Meihua in one arm and his sword in the other, Wei darted forward and shot for Daji’s back. He landed a hit, twisting his blade as he forced it into Daji’s flesh deeper and deeper until a spray of blood shot at his face.

Daji roared out of pain and anger as she whipped around, swiping at him and forcing him to retreat. She steadied herself on her feet—the gash had torn the tendon in one of her hind legs, leaving her stagnant and crippled.

“Daji, if it’s power you wanted, if it’s money you wanted, whatever it is, you can have it all!” Wei screamed, whipping the blood off of his sword. More and more of Meihua’s pink sword was turning black, and Wei couldn’t stop the anxiety overtaking him. “But leave my family out of this!”

Daji glared at him with her fox eyes before she finally spoke from her own mouth and not Ailun’s body. Her lips curled into a snarl and spoke with a deep, sultry voice.

“As long as people with the same values as yours exist, people like me will never thrive.”

Wei’s brows furrowed. “You’re no divinity. No matter what you claim, none of us would ever act like you!”

Meihua, in an even quieter voice, murmured, “She’s not. She’s a demonic cultivator that infiltrated the heavenly realm.” She held onto her nearly all-black spiritual weapon with a horribly shaky arm. Her breaths were short and rapid now, but neither Daji or Wei seemed to notice.

At this revelation, Wei scoffed out of disgust and readjusted his sword for the final time. A demon infiltrating the heavenly realm? How far had this world fallen? How many more times would he be disappointed? “Then I’ll tear you down right here, and you won't have to worry about any ‘values’ anymore.”

Blood erupted from Wei as a bronze sword pierced straight through his chest.

Blood pooled in Wei’s mouth as he coughed, causing it to spray out.

Wei’s grip on Meihua slackened as she slowly fell onto the ground. Sweat covered her forehead; Meihua was practically panting now as her entire body trembled out of pain. Despite being one of the greatest divine healers, she was in riveting pain and could do nothing but collapse on the ground.

The serpent’s eye slid from her grasp.

The man behind Wei stepped forward, sliding his blade out of Wei in a clean movement. It was the man from the Anyang wall—the one who led the massacre against Wei.

At the sight of him, Wei’s heart filled with immediate fear as he clutched his chest. It was in the very same place that he had stabbed Wei earlier… right through the heart.

“What do you think of my disciple, Wei? Isn’t he impressive?” Daji called out, her ears pinned back and tails swirling in the air in a playful manner.

Daji’s disciple walked forward and placed a foot on the serpent’s eye. Meeting eyes with Meihua, he crushed it fully and twisted his foot so it would be no more than ash mixed into the bloody dirt.

Meihua let out a loud cry as she watched the serpent eye crumble beneath him. She hollered and cried before another wave of pain tore through her, causing her to fall limp.

She hid her face and weapon from him as she hid in the ground, but he kicked her back and jostled her face forward, staring right at her.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay on the wall?”

Wei focused his spiritual energy on quickly reviving himself, but it would still take some time to recover from a fatal wound. Daji was laid back, looking like she had no care in the world as she tediously licked at the wound in her leg.

“Meihua,” Daji spoke nonchalantly, “You’re a fool if you think such a meager demonic object would affect me. Especially when you guard it so weakly. It has no more power than the lowest goblin. This is really how one of the heavenly realm’s strongest divinities tries to save the world? Look at all the people you let die.”

After a painstaking amount of time, Meihua’s body finally stopped trembling. She slowly navigated herself until she was standing and turned to face Wei. Miraculously, it seemed like she had healed or repaired her leg—Wei couldn't make it out from beneath her bloodied robes. Her lashes were lowered and hid her eyes as she spoke to both Wei and Daji.

“The only world I wish to save… is him.”

Meihua erupted into the air with a flash of blinding lightning as she whirled the black sword in the air, whipping it as the forest around her seemed to awaken and burst out of the soil.