Chapter 23: The Betrayal and the Burning Sky

The Flying Cloud Sect, once a bastion of honor, was now drowning in chaos. The air was thick with the stench of blood and burnt flesh, and the once-pristine sect grounds were now nothing but a graveyard of shattered stone and broken bodies.

Disciples fought desperately against the evil beast cultivators, their swords carving streaks of silver and crimson through the night. Screams and roars intertwined, forming a twisted symphony of war. For every disciple who fell, another leaped forward, their eyes blazing with unyielding determination. The sect elders, their robes stained with blood, unleashed devastating sword techniques, each strike like a comet descending from the heavens. Blades clashed against claws, sword light against sinister demonic qi.

A disciple screamed as an evil beast cultivator ripped through his chest, but before the fiend could revel in its kill, a sect elder's blade sliced through its throat. Another disciple, barely standing, laughed bitterly as he thrust his sword into an enemy’s stomach, only to be skewered moments later by a black claw. Life and death intermingled, with no certainty as to which side would emerge victorious.

At the heart of this blood-drenched battlefield, on the shattered steps of the grand hall, Xue Wujian, the Sect Leader, knelt on the ground. His once-majestic white robes were tattered and soaked in blood. A deep wound carved across his chest still dripped, but his eyes burned with fury, not despair.

Before him stood Tai Xuan, a man who had once been a brother in arms, a sworn protector of the sect. But now, the loyalty in his eyes had long since faded, replaced by the cold glint of betrayal.

"Tai Xuan… I have treated you well all these years! How could you betray my trust, you ungrateful bastard?" Xue Wujian’s voice was hoarse with pain and disbelief. The weight of his injuries was nothing compared to the weight in his heart.

Tai Xuan merely scoffed. "Treated me well?" He spat on the bloodied floor. "You, a man stuck at the Martial Spirit Realm for twenty years, dare call yourself a leader? What future does this sect have with a man like you at its helm?"

He gestured towards the destruction around them, as if proving his point. "This is inevitable, Xue Wujian. Your era is over. Clinging to power like a stubborn old ghost won’t change fate."

Xue Wujian gritted his teeth. "Nonsense! If you hadn’t allied yourself with these filth, how could my sect be on the verge of collapse?" His fingers dug into the stone beneath him, trying to push himself up.

A deep chuckle came from behind. A tall figure emerged from the shadows, his very presence exuding a suffocating pressure. The laughter was laced with mockery, each step he took like the ticking of an executioner’s clock.

It was Qin Hao, the Hundred Beast Sect Leader. His dark crimson robes flowed like liquid night, his eyes gleaming with the arrogance of a predator toying with its prey.

"Quite the resistance, Xue Wujian," Qin Hao mused. "But let’s be realistic. Your sect is finished. If you surrender now, I might even grant you the position of an elder under my rule."

Xue Wujian’s eyes burned like dying embers. "You want me, Xue Wujian, to kneel before you? Dream on."

Qin Hao sighed, feigning disappointment. "What a shame. I would’ve liked a stubborn old dog like you to bark under my command. Since you refuse…" He raised a hand, black energy coiling around his fingers like writhing serpents. "I’ll just have to put you down."

Before he could strike, a sharp voice cut through the battlefield like a blade laced with lightning.

"Qin Hao, you evil bastard! I’m going to kill you!"

The air trembled. All eyes turned skyward.

A lone figure hovered above the battlefield, her silhouette framed against the bloodied moon. Xiaowu, her robes billowing, held her sword pointed directly at the traitors. Her eyes burned with unshaken fury, her presence radiating defiance.

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The battlefield fell silent for a moment. Then, laughter erupted.

"Hahaha! I thought the little beauty had run away, but she actually came back to die!" one of the evil cultivators sneered.

"A mere early-stage Martial Spirit cultivator wants to challenge us? This is hilarious!" Another one jeered.

Xue Wujian’s heart tightened with fear. He coughed out blood, his voice desperate. "Xiaowu! Why did you come back? Run! I’ll hold them off!"

But to his shock, she merely smiled—a smile filled with unwavering determination. "Leave it to me… Father."

The sky burned with sword light. Xiaowu hovered in the air, her blade pointed straight at Qin Hao, the Hundred Beast Sect’s leader. Her robes fluttered like a banner of defiance against the night sky, and her eyes gleamed with an unshaken resolve.

On the sect’s grand sword platform, her father, Xue Wujian, was struggling to stand. His once-immaculate robes were torn and soaked in blood, his face pale from the wounds inflicted by both his enemies and his former brother-in-arms, Tai Xuan.

"Xiaowu!" he roared, his voice hoarse but filled with authority. "Don’t talk nonsense! You don’t understand the danger—Qin Hao is a peak Martial Spirit cultivator! You are no match for him! Run! I will hold them off!"

For a brief moment, Xiaowu’s lips twitched in a half-smile, but her grip on her sword only tightened.

Qin Hao sneered. "Run? You think you can run? Dream on!"

He raised his hand, and instantly, a wave of demonic qi surged forward. The evil beast cultivators roared in unison as they lunged at the remaining disciples of the Immortal Sword Sect. The ground shook as battle erupted anew, swords clashing, blood splattering, and the air filling with desperate cries.

Xiaowu did not hesitate.

With a flash, she turned her sword towards the traitors—those who had betrayed their sect, their brothers, and their honor.

Tai Xuan, who had stood with a smug expression moments ago, suddenly felt a pressure descend upon him like a mountain crashing from the heavens. His body trembled uncontrollably.

"T-this…!"

The other traitors turned to look at her—only to freeze in terror as an invisible force pressed against them, making it impossible to breathe.

"M-Martial Spirit peak?!" One of them stammered, his eyes filled with disbelief. "How? How did she break through?"

A single day.

A single day was all it took for her to leap to the very peak of the Martial Spirit Realm.

Tai Xuan felt his legs weaken. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Xiaowu was barely at the early stage just yesterday—how could she advance so terrifyingly fast?

A terrible realization dawned upon them.

They were not her match.

And they never would be.

"N-nooooooo—!"

Before they could even react, a terrifying sword qi erupted from Xiaowu’s blade.

Like a tidal wave crashing upon a fragile sandcastle, her sword strike obliterated them into dust.

Not a single trace remained.

The battlefield fell silent.

Qin Hao’s smirk disappeared.

The arrogance, the cruelty, the superiority that he always carried—all of it was replaced by pure, undiluted fear.

His fingers twitched. "Impossible…" His voice cracked as he took an involuntary step back. "A single day… You advanced to the peak in a single day?! How?!"

Even Xue Wujian, his own father, was at a complete loss for words. He stared at his daughter with shock and confusion.

"Xiaowu… how…?"

Xiaowu, however, did not answer.

Her blade, still dripping with invisible power, slowly turned towards Qin Hao.

Her voice was as cold as an executioner passing judgment.

"It's your turn."

Qin Hao felt his breath catch.

A cultivator at the peak of the Martial Spirit Realm was not someone he could easily suppress anymore.

The tables had turned.

And he was no longer the hunter—he was the prey.

His fists clenched. Damn it! If he fought her now, the risk was too high. If he lost, the Hundred Beast Sect would lose its strongest leader. That could not happen.

A decision had to be made.

With a dark scowl, Qin Hao gritted his teeth and shouted:

"Retreat!"

His voice carried through the battlefield like a dying beast’s last cry.

The remaining evil cultivators hesitated for a moment before breaking formation and fleeing in panic.

"You just wait!" Qin Hao’s voice was venomous. "Your sect will fall sooner or later! This is not the end!"

And with that, he turned and vanished into the darkness.

For a moment, silence reigned over the battlefield.

Then—

"We did it!"

A disciple suddenly shouted.

"We defended the sect! Hooray!"

The next moment, cheers erupted like a thunderstorm.

Disciples, bloodied and exhausted, threw their fists into the air. Some collapsed to their knees, laughing through their tears, while others simply held onto each other, relief washing over them like a long-awaited sunrise.

But while everyone else celebrated, one man did not.

Xue Wujian stood motionless, his gaze still locked onto his daughter.

The sect was saved—but a greater mystery had been born.

He took a step forward, his hands clenched into fists. His voice was low, almost dangerous.

"Xiaowu…" He exhaled, as if trying to grasp reality itself.

"What the hell is going on?"

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