Far within the rundown border area of the Soaring Phoenix Kingdom.
"No! Please, not my daughter! Not her—!"
The old man's voice cracked as he threw himself over the limp body of a young girl, shielding her with his frail frame.
His cry was drowned by laughter—a twisted, hoarse sound that echoed like a hyena's howl through the smoking village.
"Oh? You think you can bargain now?" sneered one of the demonic cultivators, his face marked with dark veins, his pupils thin as needles.
His hand crackled with dark energy, a deep violet that hissed as it struck the ground.
The old man convulsed, screaming, as his body was lifted into the air and drained in moments—his soul wrenched from his flesh, pulled into a jade talisman glowing at the demon's hip.
Children cried. Mothers screamed. A burning roof collapsed nearby, scattering sparks into the air like fireflies.
The village of Qingyan, once peaceful, was now a massacre.
