Lui Xan
Lui Xan's eyes snapped open to the heat against flesh. And power. The power within him was overwhelming, his senses heightened to a degree that made the unfamiliar terrain even more disorienting. And the heat was suffocating, the stench of burned flesh and molten stone heavy in Lui Xan’s nostrils. His senses screamed with urgency, instincts sharpened to a razor’s edge as he bolted upright, his final memories returning, wary of walls of rising blood and the creatures that had attacked him.
He rose to meet nothing.
Nothing but the sight of a deep chasm, the walls rising high, lined with glowing magma, and the bodies of other disciples strewn about like discarded dolls. Some were barely recognizable, twisted apart by some unseen element. The smell of iron lingered. Lui Xan’s hand flew to his face, feeling the jagged bone spurs that jutted from his skin. His arms and legs were similarly deformed, raw, and without skin, the bone protrusions sharp enough to slice through steel. The power thrummed within him, violent and wild, like a beast barely restrained.
He had been transformed—bone spurs ripping through flesh, claws sprouting from limbs—only to rise and stand still, waiting for the fight that never came.
Lui Xan barely flinched as he stepped over the mutilated corpses, his mind working through the haze of power that now surged through him. Being the nephew of Elder Zhen, one of the most powerful figures in the Ben Nui Sect, had its advantages. But none of that meant anything here. He was still Lui Xan—the one with the Golden Spirit Root, the one destined for greatness, even before the transformation. His uncle’s influence had given him a path, but within his short stay, Lui Xan had carved the rest himself, through ruthless cultivation and strength.
His mind was hazy, but the power surging through his body was clear. First, the twisted limbs. Then, the claws. Finally, the blood-red concentration of voracious energy pulsing in his chest, above his Dantian. Separate. He flexed his fingers, feeling the sharp bone spurs that jutted from his raw, skinless arms. There was something new there, something unfamiliar—and it was hungry.
Beside him, the slender youth groaned, struggling to her feet with a gasp while staring at the bodies that surrounded them. She rose slowly, sharp bone scraping against the stone as she stood. Her back, once as smooth as a lakes surface, was now a pattern of twisted, raw flesh. Her movements were more fluid than Lui Xan ever remembered her being, almost predatory, each action brimming with coiled power. She did not speak, her eyes still scanning the surroundings with the same bewilderment that Lui Xan felt.
The girl shifted again, her gaze drifting upward to the distant strip of sky before returning to Lui Xan. Her name was Zheng Yi, though most simply called her ‘Yi’ and though she appeared young and fragile, her past was steeped in violence. She had been raised by wandering cultivators who specialized in assassination, and her quick rise within the sect had caught the attention of more than a few higher-ranking disciples. Her affinity for all things martial was almost unnatural, and her transformation only enhanced her lethal abilities. The bone claws that now protruded from her legs were not the only weapons at her disposal; her true weapon was her speed—sharp, always a blur during combat, always one step ahead. Her background, however, remained shrouded in mystery—whispers circulated that she had been involved in the slaughter of an entire rival sect before she had even reached her tenth year, but nothing had ever been proven.
Zhen Yi's feet scraped the stone lightly, the sound barely audible, yet sharp. She moved like a predator, all fluidity and silent intent. Her gaze never strayed from the bodies, and the initial coldness in her eyes betrayed nothing. But Lui Xan knew her well enough by now to sense the passion beneath her every move. At times she was quick to kill, at others she was even quicker to lament— a contradiction. A remnant of whatever circumstances that had forced her to participate in the slaughter of hundreds in her childhood, perhaps. Lui Xan couldn’t understand how such an impressive act had made her so… Sentimental.
Finally, Yi’s voice broke through his thoughts. "They're dead. All of them." Her gaze shifted to her legs and a second gasp escaped her lips. Once slender legs were now bloodied, sprouting claws of bone that gleamed like vicious blades— identical to those they had witnessed on the lakes beast of blood. Her bone claws scraped against the stone as she moved, her changed legs making soft clicks with every step, the plates of hardened blood on her soles impacting against molten stone. She stood over a corpse Lui Xan didn’t recognise, her gaze distant, as though she were only half here.
"You think it was an accident? Our surviving the lake of blood?" Lui Xan’s voice sounded distant to his own ears. He couldn’t place the last memory clearly. Blood... a lake of blood. The girl covered in blood.. his sister… now dead. No- she had been dead long before he’d arrived, that had not been his sister weeping in the centre of the lake. His eyes drifted to the still body near the far wall. "We’re alive. They’re not. Why?"
"Who knows," Zheng Yi answered from behind, her voice drowsy and her muscular legs twitching. "We may have just been lucky. Perhaps it was the little demons will, to kill them all.”
Lui Xan didn’t respond. His head was pounding, but the power was undeniable. "And now we have their strength."
Yi’s lips twitched in distaste, forming a mockery of a smile. "Strength? You call this strength?" She flexed her legs, the bone claws glinting in the glow of the magma. "I feel like a beast."
She didn’t need to explain further. They all felt it—the raw, unbridled animalistic energy pulsing through their pathways, increasing their cultivation, but changing them. The beast cores they felt deep within were part of them now, embedded into their very flesh. She was unhappy because before their awakening she had been beautiful. She still was—the changes hadn’t affected her face. Her beauty had been a weapon, but now that weapon was bolstered by something far more lethal: bone claws that could tear through flesh as easily as silk. Lui Xan believed that the twisted skin along her back was a small price to pay for the raw untamed power that surged through all of them.
He spoke first, breaking the heavy silence that hung over the chasm like a shroud. "We’re stronger.” His voice was calm, steady, yet there was an edge to it, a sharpness that hinted at the violence barely held back, struggling to break free from the restraints of his civility.
He didn’t look at anyone in particular as he spoke, his eyes half-closed as if savoring the sensation coursing through his veins, pathways, and meridians. The bone spurs on his arms flexed, and his lips curled into a small, almost contented smile.
The girl shifted beside him, her bone claws clicking softly on the stone as she moved. Her eyes were cold, calculating, a predator’s gaze. “It burns, like fire.”
But it’s a good pain, Lui Xan nodded in thought. It reminds us of what we’ve gained.
Another groan sounded beside Lui Xan, he looked down to see another survivor, Cheng Rou the ‘Test Breaker’ rising. Cheng Rou raised his grotesque arm, flexing the massive muscles beneath the gnarled skin, claws scraping against the stone as he curled his fingers into a fist. The other provisional disciples had called him the "Test Breaker," not for any graceful technique but for his sheer brute force, the way he could pulverize anything in his path with raw, overwhelming might. Cheng Rou’s family had a history of serving powerful sects, but none had ever risen beyond the level of foot soldiers. His admittance into the sect had been a rarity, and he had spent every waking moment since proving he was worthy of more than just being a tool for others. He had clawed his way into the sect through sheer will and savage determination. His presence had initially been overlooked by those with more noble origins and backing, but his potential had quickly become undeniable. He had always been pragmatic, someone who saw things in black and white: kill or be killed, dominate or be dominated. Now, with the spirit beast core fused into his flesh, Cheng Rou was more than just brute strength. Among the new entrants, he was power incarnate, and his thirst and ambition ran deeper than most. Now, with the grotesque mutation of his arm, his power had taken on a new, terrifying dimension.
The stocky youth remained silent, but his monstrous arm twitched, the muscles bunching and flexing as if testing their newfound power. There was a look in his eyes, something feral, something that hadn’t been there before. He glanced at Lui Xan, then at the girl, but said nothing.
Lui Xan thanked the heavens for his good fortune. Of all the people he could have awoken to find beside him, he could not think of a better pair he would have with him than Zheng Yi and Cheng Rou. Both had come under his wing early on, not just because of their undeniable strength and martial prowess, but because they knew the value of his connections. His uncle, Elder Zhen, had ensured his path within the sect was paved with opportunities. Access to rare cultivation resources, spirit stones, even forbidden techniques—all had been within his reach, and he'd used them without hesitation. Very few disciples had held similar advantages. Zheng Yi and Cheng Rou would never betray him, at least, not here.
The three of them had somehow survived being consumed by creations of one of the most infamous criminals of the land and gained insurmountable booms from the experience. An undeniable impossibility.
"Where the hell are we?" the stocky youth, Cheng Rou growled, his voice tinged with panic. He held up his grotesque arm—thrice its original size, the muscles tight and raw, ending in clawed digits. "What happened to us?"
"Spirit beast cores," Lui Xan muttered, glancing at the others. "We've integrated them. From the little demons experiments, most likely."
The girl shuddered, feeling the twisted skin along her back. "But why us? Why not them?" She gestured towards the only two disciples who appeared unchanged—Jin, the other golden root besides Lui Xan, and another disciple clutching the black blade. The disciple with the black blade was someone Lui Xan had only ever seen once, earlier in the day during the spirit root and practical tests. The disciple stood beside Jin had been revealed to be a blue spirit root disciple, far lesser in potential than himself or his two transformed companions, and Lui Xan only remembered his appearance due to him somehow managing to scratch the reinforced dummy with nothing but a wooden blade. It indicated some degree of prowess, but Lui Xan wasn’t worried in the slightest. If the above average blue-root had been truly talented he would have possessed a better constitution, like himself, Jin, or Yi, and if someone of notable background had entered the sect his uncle would have given him forewarning. Lui Xan immediately dismissed the blue-root as nothing negligible element. Something to be used and discarded.
"We have power now," Cheng Rou said slowly, as if realizing it for the first time. His eyes glinted with something dark, something primal. "More than we ever had before, and much more than them." He gestured to the mutilated bodies around them, the other disciples who hadn’t survived whatever nightmare had brought them to this chasm. Blood and viscera soaked the stone floor beneath their broken forms, the heat from the magma barely masking the stench of death.
"Maybe they just weren't strong enough to survive whatever the lake did to us," Lui Xan muttered, the bone spurs on his arms flexing as he clenched his fists. "We are, though." His gaze lingered on the bodies for a moment before he turned away. It was sad, a little. But what happened to them didn’t matter. It never did.
Jin stood in the distance with the blue spirit root possessing disciple, watching them. He hadn’t changed—no visible mutations, no evidence of spirit beast integration—but he didn’t speak. He was just watching, waiting, always calculating. Lui Xan knew him well enough—Jin didn’t speak unless it was necessary, or unless he had found something entertaining in a way that piqued his sick curiosity. And right now, their apparent rare and strange transformations seemed less interesting to Jin than whatever discussion he was engrossed in. Lui Xan met his gaze briefly before turning away. Jin had always been the strongest, but now... now Lui Xan was strong, too. They were equals among fodder.
Zheng Yi’s eyes flicked down to the corpses again, a small, almost imperceptible frown tugging at the corners of her lips. "How many do you think there were? Ten? Twenty?"
"Doesn’t matter," Lui Xan replied. "They’re all dead now."
"True." Zheng Yi nodded, her gaze lingering on the bodies for a moment longer before returning to Lui Xan. Yan Mi then crouched beside one of the corpses, her bone claws gently tracing the mangled flesh of a fallen disciple. "Maybe they were better off," she said softly, more to herself than to anyone else. "Dying before they had to live like this."
"Better off?" Cheng Rou scoffed, his monstrous arm twitching as he took a step forward. "Power is all that matters. Who cares if we're different now? We can crush anyone who stands in our way."
Lui Xan watched the exchange, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Cheng Rou’s hunger for violence was potent, but it was Zheng Yi’s quiet malice that intrigued him. She might’ve seemed distant, and lost in thought, but she had a predator’s edge, just like him.
"You're still thinking like a weakling," Lui Xan said, his voice cold. "Power isn’t something you reject just because it changes you. Power is everything. And now we have more of it than we ever dreamed of." He turned to Jin, who hadn’t spoken a word. "And you, Jin? What do you think?"
Jin’s eyes remained steady, but there was something unreadable in his expression, a calmness that didn’t fit the situation. "It doesn’t matter what I think," Jin finally said, his voice measured. "What matters is what happens next."
"That’s rich," Zheng Yi snapped, rising to her feet. "Still playing your little mind games? We’ve all changed, Jin. You haven’t. Do you think you’re still stronger than us?"
Jin's gaze flickered toward her but remained neutral. "I’m just waiting."
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It was then that Lui Xan’s eyes locked on the third figure—the older boy standing beside Jin, the black blade of sharp metal in his hand. A unfamiliar face— someone new to the sect before today, ultimately unimportant until now. But now, he had something that changed everything:
The blade.
Given the circumstances, the weapon he held was the most important item in their immediate vicinity.
They had somehow awakened in an unexpected part of the realm, with no memory of how they got there or the transformations that had altered their bodies and constitutions. Worse, an element his uncle had warned him of was now at play: the sect had captured the infamous criminal known as the little demon of winding bloods, feared for his horrific experiments and forbidden Dao. Crippled and placed within the realm to nourish his fledgling blood phoenix, the demon had been left as a trial for students with the most potential. Lui Xan cursed his sentimentality for falling into such an obvious trap, distracted by the sight of his wounded sister, a weakness he thought he'd eradicated. Now, he suspected the fiery cavern they stood in was the territory of one of his uncle’s most dangerous spirit beasts,
The Fire Tiger.
Only the disciple with the sword stood a chance of surviving and escaping the chasm, and Lui Xan intended to make sure it was him.
Lui Xan’s cold eyes locked onto the before drifting to the dark blade stabbed into the ground beside him.
“You’re a fool if you think you’re keeping that weapon,” Lui Xan’s voice came, devoid of any emotion.
“Hand it over, or I’ll take it from your corpse.”
The girl’s claws clicked against the stone as she moved closer to Lui Xan, her eyes on the black blade. The stocky youth shifted, his grotesque arm flexing. They were all assessing, calculating, but the conclusion was foregone. The blade wouldn’t stay in weak hands for long.
The blue-root disciple raised a brow and plucked his sword from its position in the ground.
Lui Xan straightened, the power thrumming through him like a living thing. He flexed his fingers, feeling the sharp bone spurs that had erupted from his raw, skinless arms and legs. The sensation was both alien and exhilarating, his entire body thrumming with the raw power of the spirit beast core now embedded within him.
A low growl emanated from the stocky youth, Bao who had grown impatient. "Enough talk," he spat, his monstrous arm flexing. "We don’t have time to waste."
Lui Xan didn’t respond. Words were unnecessary. He lunged, his bone spurs slashing through the air, aimed directly at the disciple’s throat.
***
Alex
Alex watched Lui Xan’s lunge with detached curiosity. He could feel the eyes on him—Jin’s eyes, Lui Xan’s eyes, the eyes of the other survivors—everyone's eyes.
He had condensed his domain the moment he had noticed the ‘unparalleled’ prodigy greedily eyeing his blade. Reduced as his control over his domain was in its cool-down state, he could only condense it to the point where it covered just himself, Jin, Lui Xan, and the girl and stocky boule that accompanied him— about 6 feet in all directions. But within that space, nothing could escape his purview. The flow of time slowed subtly within his gaze, and a light application of his Dao slowed it further, his insight into the cyclical and interconnected nature of existence allowing his mind to focus fully on the present moment, without being bound by the illusions of past or future. It allowed him to perceive each moment with greater depth, as an artist would study a painting.
The Dao surged, until Lui Xan's blinding speed had slowed to nothing but that of a feather, drifting through the air with deadly intent.
Wow, the beast core transformation really did a number on those three, didn’t it? Alex’s thoughts were a perfect blend of curiosity and wariness as he eyed the sharp protrusions along his attackers arms. It’s possible that each of them have experienced a similarly drastic increase in their Qi reserves as a result of any changes the transformations brought, which could be a problem, Alex thought, assessing the closest of the three surviving disciples besides himself and Jin’s physical forms through the myriad senses granted to him by his domain. It’s also possible that my increase only feels drastic because I only started with 8 hours worth of cultivation. He found himself wondering how his cultivation would compare to the other disciples. If their strength of their Sabrina’s were to be quantified, would they have 53 Qi like him? Or 200? 300? Or years worth of stored power?
Status, he thought.
[Name: Alex Ironwood
Level: 195
C̷͎̠̠̖̿́ultivation: Qi Gathering- First stage
Race: Human - Rank D
Primary Class: ̷̷͎̠̠̖̳̮̿́̏̄͝͠Sys̵̞̈́͆̓̓te̸̪̟͇͕͂mic SwO̷̟̮̙͚̔rd So̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅve̶̷̵̴̲̳̱reign
Sub-class: Locked
Strength: 2274 (1467)
Dexterity: 2923 (1886)
Endurance: 1322 (853)
Intelligence: 2699 (1741)
Wisdom: 1056 (681)
Qi: 82 (53)
Feats: First Encounter, Pioneer, Pinnacle IV, Survivor, Warrior, Champion, Dungeon Insurgent, Innovator, Reborn, Shard of the Endless,
Techniques: Bovine Foundation Stance, Divine Bovine Vessel, Stampeding Footwork, Steel Horn Strikes,
Active skills: Phoenix Leap, Mana Burn, Mana Blade, Boundless Dodge, Duȅ̷̳̮̄͝͠l of C̷͎̠̠̖̿́orruption, Sovereign Executioner, InfiniteBody, Sovereign Clone, Divine Fist, Pierce Reality, NetherForged, Eternal Infusion, Allo̶̭̲̪͊͐cation, Star of the Monarch,
Passive skills: Inner Focus, Outer Focus, A̷̶̵̴̲̳̱l̸̢͉̗̣̑͐͛à̸̶̵̴̶̷̶̺̥̮̯͇̲̳̱̼̲͒̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̸̴̶̷̵̢̳̮̲̳̱͉̗̣̲̳̱̏̄̑͐͛͝͠Ω̴̵̶̷̲̳̱ ̶̶̯͇̼̲̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̴̶̷̵̳̮̲̳̱̲̳̱̏̄͝͠g̵̶̷̴̲̳̱e̸̪̟͇͕͂e̶̷̵̴̲̳̱E̵̴̶̷̶̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̢̲̳̱̼̲̲̳̱̟̮̙͚͉̗̣̺̥̮͋͐͋͂̔̑͐͛̀͒ͅͅ ̶̷̶̴̵̶̷̯͇̲̳̱̈́̈͛ ̷̸̴̶̷̵̳̮̪̟͇͕̲̳̱̏̄͂͝͠M̷̶̵̴̲̳̱m̸̵̴̶̷̸̷̸̴̶̷̵̢͉̗̣̲̳̱̪̟͇͕̟̮̙͚̺̥̮̲̳̱̑͐͛͂̔̀͒ͅ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̸̶̢̳̮͉̗̣̼̲̏̄̑͐͛͋͐͋͂͝͠ͅO̷̟̮̙͚̔o̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅᾯ̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̸̢̲̳̱̲̳̱̟̮̙͚̪̟͇͕͉̗̣̺̥̮̑͐͛̀͒ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̶͎̠̠̖̼̲̿́͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠ ̷̶̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̴̶̷̵̲̳̱̲̳̱̲̳̱, Inventory, Bestial Senses, BladeBody, True sight, Mana Vortex, Nascent Body (imperfect), Abyssal Body (Imperfect), Sword Soul, Eternal Disorder, Thà̸̶̵̴̶̷̶̺̥̮̯͇̲̳̱̼̲͒̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅͅnatos’s Sovereign, Sword Sense, Absolution, Bloodforged,
Dao: True Immortality - 1.2% Progress
Unassigned stat points: 0]
Alex glanced at his stat screen, noting the 55% boost instead of the usual 60% he faced when outnumbered by those stronger than him. So it’s just Lui Xan I’ll have to fight then, he mused internally, I guess the others are staying out of it for now. His gaze shifted toward the other two, focusing on the size and quality of their dantians. He calculated the difference quickly—still not enough. His stats were far lower than what he'd need to handle someone like Lui Xan. A cultivator. Not good.
But not impossible.
He mentally reviewed his skills, one by one. All on cooldown and over an hour from being ready. Mana burn is out, so no doubling stats. Can’t even use allocation to stack them where I need. Guess I’ll have to rely on my passives, Qi techniques, and the Dao. He felt the weight of his limitations but wasn’t rattled. This was life or death, sure. But it was a puzzle, too. And puzzles had solutions.
“Alright, I can work with this.”
He would have to make it work.
Lui Xan surged forward, his eyes locked onto Alex's head, his arm outstretched, claws extended. The speed at which he moved made him appear as nothing more than a blur, his fingers resembling sharpened blades ready to tear flesh from bone. Alex knew he couldn’t completely avoid the attack.
His body responded in kind. His feet grounded themselves against the stone beneath him, digging in as he shifted into the Bull’s Foundation Stance. The familiar feeling of his Qi flowing through his body as he exhaled was immediate and centering. His chest expanded as he inhaled, pulling in more Qi and circulating it with the precision of the Charging Bull Breathing Technique. The energy spread through his meridians, purifying as it moved, grounding him further while rooted to the earth, syncing his body with the realms magnetic fields.
He imagined the strength of the divine bull, immovable and steady, using its mass to anchor itself into the earth further. His legs bent slightly at the knees, his feet shoulder-width apart, allowing the energy to stabilize within his dantian. He wasn’t shaken or unbalanced, despite Lui Xan’s sheer speed closing the distance.
The claws neared, aimed directly at his skull.
Alex shifted his weight slightly, the Qi in his body guiding his movements as he angled his blade to the side, preparing for to counter through Kendo’s Kaeshi-dō. The Kaeshi-dō was about fluidity and flow, about transitioning from defense to offense without hesitation- a counter-attack technique in where one would block an incoming strike, usually aimed at the head, and immediately counter by striking the opponent's torso. It was neither a defensive or offensive movement— it was both, combined into one fluid action.
His blade moved upward as Alex attempted to the first stage of the technique, deflecting the attack, not by blocking it directly, but by redirecting it away from him. His arms moved fluidly, not rigid, but the claws were too strong, thousands of stats beyond what he would need to affect them in any meaningful way; Lui Xan’s bone claws brushed past his blade without resistance.
I should’ve expected that, Alex thought as he rotated his wrists smoothly, his feet pivoting to the side, utilising the force of the blow to position his body for a counterstrike. He didn’t pause. His blade swung upward, slicing through the air toward Lui Xan’s face. The force of the movement was backed by the energy flowing through him, his entire body twisting into the strike. The sword aimed at Lui Xan’s eyes, a spin and flick of his elbows and wrist leading the strike.
The blow connected with Lui Xan’s cheek, cutting a thin line across his face, stopping just at the bridge of his nose. Alex felt the impact as the sword met something far harder than it should have. The skin of a cultivator, hardened like metal, stopped the blade from doing any significant damage. His dexterity stat wasn’t enough. Without the skills needed to boost them, his current strength was not great enough. It drew blood that would hardly even matter. The line of cut skin on Lui Xan’s face was nothing more than a scratch. A single red line of futility.
The claws struck.
Pain exploded in his chest. Negated.
Alex’s feet left the ground.
Before Alex could register the result of his own attack, the claws of Lui Xan’s attack impacted his chest, the force behind it far greater than his own. The impact sent Alex flying backward, the energy surging through him unable to cushion the force. The souls stored in Thà̸̶̵̴̶̷̶̺̥̮̯͇̲̳̱̼̲͒̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅͅnatos’ Sovereign absorbing the brunt of the damage, enough to prevent him from being torn apart by the strike.
Still, the force threw him backward. His body was weightless in the air.
The rocky ground rushed up to meet him. He twisted, knees bracing for impact.
Alex’s feet hit the ground, cracking the stone beneath him as he landed, the tremor vibrating through his legs as he came to a stop. The ground beneath him wasn’t stable—it was basalt, cooling from the magma that had flowed beneath the surface moments ago. The heat from the magma below still pulsed through the earth, but Alex ignored it, focusing on the task at hand.
Alex rose and assumed a stance, unharmed.
“What was that move?” Lui Xan’s fingers lightly traced the shallow cut. The edge of his lip twitched upward, the tension in his expression easing into something unreadable. He turned his head slightly, just enough to let the sunlight catch the thin line of blood. His breath, steady and measured, filled the space between them. He tilted his head, the faintest hint of surprise reflected in the way he held the side of his face, as though testing if what had just happened was real.
After a brief pause, he pressed his fingers against the cut again, this time harder, almost as if searching for the pain that should have accompanied it. "There’s no pain. Interesting." His voice was soft, his eyes fixed on Alex with a kind of restrained curiosity.
“That was unexpected,”
He ran his thumb over the faint mark once again, pressing lightly as if testing how deep it had gone. The look in his eyes reflected more curiosity than pain. Lui Xan’s lips curled slightly—not in mockery, but in disbelief. His fingers left the scratch, and he glanced at Alex. “You’re much weaker than should be reasonable for any of us, but skilled and apparently durable… But is that it? That’s all you can do?” he muttered, his tone softer now, his assessment of Alex’s threat to his life reduced to zero. “You should have given up the sword the moment I asked, now you’ll die before your first test is even over. How pitiful.” He turned to Jin, wary that his only true rival would step in to save Alex.
Jin watched the two of them, unmoving, his gaze cold.
Lui Xan smirked.
He inhaled deep, his knees bending forward and bone spurs digging into the ground like a sprinter, all present raised their brows and widened their eyes as the unfamiliarity of the technique struck them. Red Qi mixed with gold— Alex saw a concentration of red and gold Qi erupt from Lui Xan, engulfing his legs and forming horns atop his head, like a demon.
Or a bull.
His Qi was corrupted. Corrupted Qi that flowed through his veins like poison. Empowering him beyond what was possible. The ground trembled and cracked, the air vibrating with energy, dust rising. Then, Lui Xan disappeared.
Shi— Alex hurriedly condensed his domain and allowed the Dao to engulf him, welcoming its maddening embrace as he sought to detach himself from the flow of time, slowing his own march through the stream of change by letting go of attachment and abandoning his natural pace. A dull pounding pulsed behind his eyes, something he hadn’t felt since his system had removed his ‘Dao safety procedures’, whatever they were. As the world slowed to a crawl, Lui Xan reappeared to his countless senses.
Behind him.
Horns of red Qi, tinged with gold, almost solid were inches from piercing Alex, the horns seemed to not just part the air, but any energy they encountered, slicing it in two before Alex’s senses, and judging by the distance and speed exhibited by Lui Xan, it was another attack he had no way to avoid.
The air felt heavier, thicker, with time slowed as it was, and the sense of the imminent strike sharpened in his mind, but it wasn’t panic that overtook him—it was instinct, primal and unrelenting. From deep within, a voice whispered, its presence had been constant since Alex’s awakening, but now, its desire was overpowering. Hunt. Kill, it said. There was no rationality to it, no strategic calculation. Just the overwhelming, raw need for destruction. His spirit beast core roared with the force of the monster residing within him, driving every thought from his mind except one: blood.
For the first time, Alex didn’t resist. He gave in to it.
There was a truth he had been avoiding for as long as he could remember. He had always clung to his moral compass, rationalizing his choices, burying deeper instincts far beneath the surface. His spirit beast core hummed within him, its energy fierce and untamed, bolstering his innermost desires and Revealing all. It resonating with the bloodlust that had been growing inside his blade, Eclipse. The blade had absorbed the essence of so many demonic spirit beasts, it reflected the cores mental energy, dark and violent, each pulse amplifying the urges he had long suppressed.
For years, Alex held fast to his morals, convinced they were what made him better. But now, standing at the brink of a moment he could no longer deny, the core inside him twisted, unlocking a part of his mind he had sealed off—unveiling a desire that shocked him to his core. A truth he could no longer deny.
The most fundamental purpose of a sword, is to kill efficiently.
Not to slay the innocent, he thought. His path was to defeat others who wielded deadly weapons with finality. But killing was the fundamental truth of the sword. And all martial sword arts centered on this truth: to wield a weapon efficiently meant embracing its ultimate purpose. The sword was designed not to defend, but to end. To sever life, swiftly and cleanly. To truly master any blade, Alex knew he would have to participate in the act for which the sword was created.
To engage in death matches—to revel in them. It would allow him to discover the true nature of his sword. He had always turned away from this reality, justifying his reluctance with notions of right and wrong. But now, under the sway of his spirit beast core and the demonic energy within Eclipse, the truth became undeniable. There was no art to the sword without death.
Alex’s sense of morality had always been strong. It wasn’t a fragile shell, but an intrinsic part of who he was. Yet, with the influence of his core and blade pressing on his mind to reveal his true desires, he strayed from that path, just a step.
For a moment, Alex allowed himself to wonder: What could he achieve if he abandoned the morals that had restrained him? If he unleashed the full potential of the path he had chosen?
Even if only for an instant, he longed to find out. To let go of his hesitation, to experience the purity of combat without restraint. To kill or be killed by his equals.
This was the truth his spirit beast core had been urging him toward. A truth his blade, Eclipse, whispered to him now. The question he had buried deep inside himself—what would happen if he let go—began to surface.
As Lui Xan’s final strike struck, parting Qi like the wind through leaves, for the first time in his life, Alex embraced the truth of his path—he let go of everything but the brutal truth of his blade’s purpose.
To kill.