The boy’s words were accompanied by an intense glare.

The recipient of that glare felt an inexplicable sense of crisis. It was as if the sky itself had fallen, placing a tremendous amount of pressure on his shoulders. The weight felt too great to bear, causing his knees to buckle.

In his chest, he could almost feel a shadowy hand latching onto his heart.

‘What is this?’

Looking up, he was no longer in the same place. The ground he had altered was now seemingly made of gold. He himself was on his knees on a red carpet.

In this place, there was no one else aside from him and the boy.

No. He couldn’t see the boy. The person he was looking at was much older than the boy but shared the same dark skin. His face was obscured by a bright light that made it difficult to distinguish his features.

He was seated on high —a golden throne beneath him— and was supporting his head with his hand as he looked down at Geng Yong.

“What is this?” asked a confused Geng Yong. “Where are we?”

The figure seated on the throne seemed disinclined to answer.

Suddenly, Geng Yong felt a sharp pain in his shoulder.

Turning his head over to look, he saw a strange bloody humanoid creature standing behind him. It seemed to be an unstable construct and was dripping with what appeared to be fresh blood.

“Why would you do this to me?” asked a shaking, distorted, but female sounding voice.

Another pain was felt on his other shoulder, accompanied by another voice.

“You killed them…” it said, digging its nails further into his shoulder. “You killed them!” Its voice then changed into a shriek, “Youkilledthemyoukilledthemyoukilledthem!”

“My wife,” this time it was a male voice, and the pain was felt in his calf. “Why did you take my wife from me?”

“No! Please don’t! Please!”

“Why is this happening to me?”

“Father… Mother…”

“Damn you, Geng Yong! Damn you to hell!”

One after another, these bloody figures appeared before him, each grabbing hold of his body, causing the pain he was feeling to pile up until it became unbearable.

“Silence!” he yelled, sweeping his arm to disperse the crowd.

A moment later, he felt a sense of shame.

Why had he shouted just now?

Then again, it was normal for him to be quick to anger.

So why was he now ashamed of it?

Perhaps because he knew that this was an illusion, and there was no point in being angered by illusory beings?

After thinking for a while, he surmised that this, as well as the assault brought about by the bloodied figures, was an attack designed to generate internal conflict. If he were to succumb to feelings of anger, or guilt, or remorse, he would likely develop a heart demon or some other mental block that would compromise his future advancement.

With that in mind, he decided to proceed with a calm mind, as if speaking to himself.

“You were all weak,” he said. “That was your sin. Scream and shout all you want. It doesn’t change the facts.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Weak?”

“We were weak?”

“That’s right,” he replied with a chuckle. “Don’t go thinking your little temper tantrum will cause me to waver. That’s pure fantasy. I’ll tell you now; if I could go back in time and start afresh, I’d do it all over again.”

The bloody figures paused for a moment before whipping into a frenzy.

They dug and clawed through his flesh as they screamed.

“How dare you?! All of what you are came from us!”

“You stole everything from us!”

“Die, you monster! Die!”

Geng Yong felt excruciating pain as his flesh was rent. The high-pitched shrieks of the bloody figures caused his eyes and ears to bleed. The pressure caused his nose to bleed, and the claws that were digging into his chest caused him to cough up blood.

He felt a pair of hands dig into his face before he was made to look up into one of those bloody figures’ faces.

This one appeared to be female.

It smiled and hugged his head, bringing him into its bosom.

“You’re right, my love,” it said with a soft voice, stroking his head as it spoke. “We were weak. Our outcomes can all be traced back to that.”

“Naturally. The lot of you were meant to be taken advantage of. That was your lot in- Ngh!”

Geng Yong stopped speaking when the bloody figure’s claws dug into his neck.

“However.”

It moved its hands, bringing them to both sides of his face and used them to raise his head before it leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“You’re the weak one now.”

It released him, allowing his head to fall, and at the same time, the other bloody figures let go of him, leaving his body to fall to the ground.

They all turned to the figure seated upon the golden throne and prostrated themselves before him.

““Honoured Envoy,”” they said in unison, ““We beg of you. Grant us freedom.””

By this point, Geng Yong had already struggled back onto his feet.

He was in a terrible state and could feel burning pain with every breath he took, but he remained lucid. He knew that this was all an illusion, most likely caused by a formation, and the pain he was feeling was likely the damage he had taken while his mind was distracted.

“Freedom?” he remarked. “Then I suppose these bloody figures are meant to represent my so-called ‘tormented’ qi?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Quite inventive, I’ll admit, but do spare me the theatrics.”

He appeared calm on the outside, but he knew he was in a very precarious situation. It was unknown how much damage his real body had taken and how far his opponents were willing to go.

They spoke as if they firmly believed he was a demic cultivator, so they could theoretically go as far as executing him in the name of justice, but that was an unlikely scenario. Not to mention the fact that he was certain there was no evidence backing that claim, the Shimmering Sword Sect would likely intervene before that could happen, forcing both parties to take their quarrel elsewhere.

On top of that, the enemy still had to consider what the Merchant Guild’s reaction would be before they did anything extreme.

As the adage went, one ought to consider the owner before kicking the dog.

Knowing that the worst-case scenario would be an embarrassing loss, Geng Yong was able to proceed calmly.

With his admittedly lacking knowledge of formations, Geng Yong was unable to deduce the core of this one, but taking an educated guess, he figured that it was likely to be the figure seated upon the golden throne.

As long as he could destroy it, there was a solid chance he would be freed from the illusion.

That being the case, Geng Yong ignored the presence of the bloody figures surrounding him and made a run straight for the throne. He dashed up the stairs as quickly as he could, intending to destroy the core with all his strength.

He would even use his teeth if he had to.

Along the way, he noticed that the bloody figures weren’t giving chase.

He didn’t know why, but he also didn’t care.

His target was straight ahead, now almost within arm’s reach.

“You’re mine!” he yelled as he extended his bloodied hands toward the figure’s neck.

But that was when his body came to a complete halt.

It felt like he was being gripped by an invisible force, stopping him from taking even one step closer.

“Damn it!” he yelled. “Release me from this!”

There was no response.

“Release me!”

Again, there was no response.

“Well, at least do something. I haven’t got all day.”

As if in response to those words, he felt an impact at the backs of his legs, and as a result, he was brought to his knees.

He then had his arms forcefully spread out as he was made to look toward the figure on the throne.

There were no further changes. The figure was still supporting his head with his hand as if completely uninterested in Geng Yong’s situation.

The words of the boy came to his mind.

He introduced himself as someone who had “grown quite weary of watching this farce”. The image of this figure matched those words perfectly.

“So, you fancy yourself a king, do you?” asked Geng Yong. “No wonder you conduct yourself in such an arrogant manner.” He stared straight into the face that he still couldn’t see very well and added, “But even kings bow before the Merchant Guild.”

It was then that the figure finally made a move.

He straightened his neck and placed both hands upon his throne’s armrests, then stood up and proceeded to walk down the stairs of his throne.

Geng Yong watched in silence, relieved that this was finally coming to an end.

However, the figure proceeded to walk right past him, completely ignoring his presence.

“Wha-”

No words had been said, but the message rang clear in Geng Yong’s heart.

“You are unworthy.”