Seeing the state of Yan Chuan, Lin Xiaotian nearly retched, his throat tightening as a wave of disgust rose uncontrollably. The closer he looked, the worse it felt, as if the very sight was enough to disturb one’s state of mind.
His brows furrowed as he forced himself to steady his breathing, suppressing the urge. "What... happened to him?"
Hearing this, Han Leu showed no remorse, his expression calm, almost indifferent, as if what stood before them was nothing more than sothing that deserved its fate. "If you truly knew what kind of people they are," he said slowly, "you would think what I did to this beast... was rcy."
His voice did not rise, yet there was a faint coldness within it. "I killed the fleeing Golden Core, then captured him. He tried to die through demonic deviation, forcefully reversing his Qi, but I suppressed it before he could succeed."
His gaze shifted toward Yan Chuan, cold and steady. "He refused to speak. Not a word."
A brief pause. "So, I used a soul search." The words were simple yet carried weight. "It’s a forbidden technique. It forcefully tears through the mind, extracting mories... but the consequences are like this."
He gestured lightly toward Yan Chuan. "The mind collapses, the soul fractures and what remains... is barely human."
Lin Xiaotian’s gaze lingered on Yan Chuan for a mont longer, his expression unreadable as he took in the hollow eyes, the broken body, the faint, childlike murmurs.
Then he turned away. "Let’s go out. Tell everything."
He stepped out of the cabin, the faint sound of wood beneath his feet grounding him back into the present, while Han Leu followed silently behind.
For a few monts, neither of them spoke. The wind moved across the deck, carrying with it the lingering scent of blood and battle.
Then Han Leu spoke again. "Sect Master... there’s a lot." His tone was steady, but heavier now. "First... my hunch was right. It was the Yan family behind the disappearance of those young talents."
Lin Xiaotian’s steps slowed slightly. His eyes darkened, but he did not interrupt.
"Second... this isn’t isolated." Han Leu’s voice lowered slightly. "All of this... the demonic Qi, the beast, the assassins it’s all connected to sothing bigger."
Then he Contemplated for a bit as he spoke. "There’s a powerful demonic entity behind it sothing sealed... but not completely."
The air felt heavier for a mont. "And the Yan family..." His voice hardened. "They’re not just involved. They’re deeply rooted in it."
Lin Xiaotian’s fingers tightened slightly. "They’ve crossed every line. What they’ve done... isn’t sothing that can even be called immoral anymore."
Han Leu continued, his gaze steady. "The children... are being turned into Blood Pool for their Ancestor.
Silence followed for a few steps. "He’s already reached the Nascent Soul realm... and from what I saw, he’s preparing to step into Divine Transformation."
A faint tension crept into his voice now. "But that’s not all."
Lin Xiaotian glanced at him.
Han Leu’s eyes narrowed slightly. "I believe he’s already been influenced... or even partially possessed by that demonic entity."
The wind passed between them again. "He’s not even telling the truth to his own clan mbers anymore."
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Just as the words were spoken, deep within the Yan family mansion, far beneath its grand halls, sat a man upon a dark platform imrsed within a pool of blood. The thick liquid churned slowly, carrying decay, sorrow, and lingering anguish, as if countless lives had dissolved into it over ti.
The man stirred slightly, his frail body shifting as dense demonic qi coiled around him like living smoke, distorting the very air around his figure. His skin resembled aged tree bark, dry and cracked, while his sunken features gave him the appearance of sothing barely human.
Then slowly, he opened his eyes, revealing a gaze devoid of warmth or humanity, carrying only a deep abyssal darkness. It felt as if sothing ancient was staring outward, observing everything with quiet and patient malice.
He raised his hand and touched his own body, his fingers tracing across his skin with unsettling care, as if confirming sothing valuable had not been lost.
His movents were slow and deliberate, almost reverent, as though this fragile vessel held imnse significance.
Then his lips parted, and a voice escaped that no human throat should have been capable of producing, low and distorted beyond reason. It sounded like a whisper dragged from beneath the world itself, echoing faintly through the chamber.
"Good... one of my seeds has succeeded at last," the voice murmured, carrying twisted satisfaction that did not belong to any ordinary cultivator. A faint, unnatural smile spread across his face.
"Humans truly are the worst," he continued, his tone filled with mocking amusent and quiet disdain for their nature. "These righteous cultivators will commit unspeakable acts for even the slightest benefit."
For a mont, his voice remained steady, lingering faintly within the blood-filled chamber before sothing inside him suddenly shifted. His expression tightened unnaturally as the demonic qi around him surged in uneven pulses.
"Still... I have yet to break through the seal," he muttered, his voice lowering as instability crept into it. "This body remains too weak to contain what lies beyond."
The whisper fractured, becoming unstable as if two wills clashed within the sa vessel, tearing at each other for control. "Divine Transformation... seal break... Divine Transformation... seal break..."
At that mont, the heavy chamber doors creaked open, breaking the suffocating silence with a dull echo that lingered in the air. A group of children was dragged inside, their ages ranging from twelve to barely seventeen.
So were pushed forward violently while others were dragged across the ground, their faces pale and filled with uncontrollable terror. Their eyes darted desperately, searching for escape where none existed.
Behind them stood several guards, their expressions cold and indifferent, as if this horrifying scene had long beco routine to them. There was no hesitation within them, only silent obedience.
The old man slowly rose to his feet, the blood beneath him rippling as his presence shifted subtly yet unmistakably. A human-like smile ford upon his face, yet it carried sothing deeply wrong beneath it.
"Very good... Lil Yan," he said, his tone returning to controlled calm that felt far more dangerous than before. "I will soon break through Nascent Soul, and our Yan family will rise above all."
"We will stand alongside the great sects, and no one will ever look down upon us again," he continued, his voice filled with quiet certainty. His gaze lingered ahead with unsettling confidence.
Before him, Yan Chuan’s father stood trembling, his hands cupped respectfully while his head remained lowered in submission. Yet within his eyes, there was only fear.
He hesitated before speaking, his voice unsteady as doubt briefly surfaced within him. "Father... is this truly the right path for our family to take?"
The old man’s expression tightened briefly, the warmth fading before returning with unnatural calm as he stepped forward slowly. His hand rested upon the man’s shoulder with quiet authority.
"It is all for the Yan family," he said calmly, his voice carrying an unquestionable weight that crushed resistance. The demonic qi around him pulsed faintly as his presence pressed down.
The fear within the man’s eyes slowly dissolved, replaced by sothing closer to blind reverence as his posture straightened slightly. His earlier hesitation vanished without a trace.
"Yes, father... for the Yan family," he replied, his voice steady, as if his doubt had never existed at all.
As the man and guards departed, the chamber fell silent once again, leaving only the old man and the trembling children behind. The sound of footsteps faded into nothingness.
The old man stepped forward slowly, his gaze settling upon a young boy who trembled uncontrollably beneath his presence. The boy could not have been older than fourteen.
He reached out and placed his hand upon the boy’s head gently, his touch calm in a way that felt deeply unsettling. Then he smiled softly.
"Delicious," he whispered.
In the next instant, the boy’s body lted, collapsing into a pool of blood as if it had lost all structure entirely. His scream barely lasted before it was swallowed.
The blood flowed into the pool below, rging seamlessly as though it had always belonged there from the beginning. The surface rippled once, then stilled again. The other children scread, their voices breaking into desperate cries as they tried to escape, their bodies stumbling in panic. But those screams slowly began to fade.
One by one, until only silence remained.
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