Half a day later, within the inner sect of the Abyss Pit Sect.
By the serene waterfront of Withered Orchid Fall, a quaint villa courtyard stood nestled against the blue water. Inside, Zheng Kinson—draped in a luxurious brocade robe and adorned with a jade crown—exuded an air of refined elegance and valor. He was in the midst of lecturing his junior brothers on the intricacies of their cultivation arts. His voice flowed like a gentle stream, calm and assured, each word dripping with poise. His confidence was magnetic, almost tangible, drawing the admiration and trust of everyone present.
The junior disciples watched him with wide eyes, their chests swelling with awe. Their faces mirrored a single thought: If only I could be like Senior Brother Zheng someday!
Zheng Kinson noticed their gazes and smiled faintly. With a subtle shift of his stance, he amplified his aura, transforming into a figure of grandeur—a sage straight out of an ancient scroll painting.
But then—BAM!—the tranquility shattered as the courtyard gate was violently kicked open.
"Zheng Kinson, crawl out here and DIE!"
The junior disciples froze, their minds struggling to process the sudden intrusion. Before they could react, a burly, muscular figure clad in an indigo robe swaggered in, his long hair fluttering like a banner in the wind. His piercing eyes swept across the courtyard, locking onto Zheng Kinson with an intensity that could melt steel. Without a word, he hurled a fist forward, the force of his punch roaring like a thunderclap.
The attack was laced with eerie whispers, a haunting undercurrent that sent shivers down the spines of the onlookers. Midway through its arc, the juniors swayed, their minds clouded by dizziness. Unconsciously, they stumbled into Zheng Kinson's path, blocking his escape.
"Miu Tyanh, how dare you?!" Zheng Kinson's eyes widened in shock. The attack was blindingly fast, and the punch carried the full force of an Advanced Phase Foundation Stage cultivator. Instinct screamed at him to retreat, but Miu Tyanh's Heart Ghoul Fist Art—a technique honed to menacing perfection—had already ensnared Zheng's weaker, early Phase Foundation junior brothers. They were now under the hypnotic control of the Heart Ghoul technique, forming an unintentional barrier that blocked Zheng Kinson's escape.
If Zheng Kinson retreated now, he'd have to crush through his own junior brothers—a move that would shatter his reputation and any chance of cultivating them as loyal followers. As a Bloodline Lord, Zheng Kinson had been meticulously winning over these junior brothers, grooming them to become his right-hand men. He couldn't abandon them now.
Gritting his teeth, Zheng Kinson surged his spiritual energy. A green glow flared around him, coppery runes snaking over his arms and neck as he activated the Green Ghost Battle Body. At the mid-Foundation Stage, this art was a far cry from the weaker version Pay Ling had faced from Chou Ease. Horns sprouted from Zheng Kinson's head, his exposed skin gleaming with a metallic chill—raw power incarnate!
But Miu Tyanh merely sneered. Mid-punch, his fist morphed into a claw, his nails lengthening rapidly. The tips of his fingers ignited with icy blue sparks. With a single, casual swipe, Zheng Kinson's Green Ghost Battle Body was torn apart like parchment, flesh and skin splitting open as if they were nothing more than paper.
"Miu Tyanh! Have you fucking lost your mind?!" Zheng Kinson hissed through gritted teeth, clutching the gash on his chest. He seized the moment to summon a blood-red longsword from his storage pouch, the blade gleaming ominously as he steadied himself. Weapon in hand, he glared at his assailant, his voice sharp with defiance. "We settled our grudges in front of the upper three Bloodline Lords—swore to keep to our own turf and never cross the line! And now you break that oath, barging into we Deathveil Bloodline territory? Are you treating the words of the Upper Three Bloodline Lords as a joke?!"
"I would never disrespect the Upper Three Bloodline Lords," Miu Tyanh shot back, his icy gaze fixed on the wound he had inflicted on Zheng Kinson. He didn't press the attack further, but his voice was colder than the depths of winter. "But you, Zheng Kinson, are too cowardly to face me directly. Instead, you resort to gutter tricks—sending someone to the outer sect to murder my little brother, Toanh, my only kin-brother! This grudge ends in blood. It doesn't matter if the upper three Bloodline Lords intervene or if you drag Successor Lith into this. I am in the right, and you will pay!"
Zheng Kinson stared at him, incredulous. "What lunacy are you spouting? When did I send anyone to kill your brother? I don't even know where your brother was stationed!"
Miu Tyanh let out a cold, mocking laugh. "Zheng Kinson, you clawed your way up by murdering your own father. In this sect, we value strength, not methods. I never mocked you for your filthy deeds. But now you've killed my brother and won't even admit it? That's even more despicable than I thought. Pathetic. I once considered you a cultivator rival, but now I see you're not even fit to scrape the dirt from my boots!"
"If I had done it, I'd fucking admit it!" Zheng Kinson spat, his voice trembling with rage. "You thick-skulled fool—you're swallowing rumors whole, letting someone else wield you as their blade!"
"You dare deny it?!" Miu Tyanh's voice was like ice. "You swore revenge on me that day—plenty of people heard it! Are you still going to lie to my face?!"
Zheng Kinson seethed, his mind roaring with fury. Yes, he had sworn revenge. After suffering a humiliating loss, he had to say something to steady the morale of his followers. But he couldn't admit that in front of his junior brothers. Instead, he snarled, "Bastard! You're just here to pick a fight!"
"So what if I am?!" Miu Tyanh roared. Lee Bane's concubine had shown him all the evidence—Pay Ling stepping off the Bone Tomb Vessel, witnessed by a crowd at the square of Eternal Severance. There was no faking that. And then Pay Honine had enrolled his clan brother in the outer sect, name-dropping "Senior Brother Zheng" at every turn.
Zheng Kinson's denials? Nothing but filthy lies.
To Miu Tyanh, Zheng Kinson was nothing more than a coward squirming in the dirt.
There was no point in further debate. Miu Tyanh lunged forward, his finger aimed like a dagger at Zheng Kinson's brow.
The inner sect's thirteen bloodlines were divided into upper three Bloodlines, mid five, and lower five. Both Miu Tyanh and Zheng Kinson were lords of the lower five bloodlines, but Miu Tyanh stood at the top of this tier, while Zheng Kinson languished at the bottom. Their rivalry had been fierce since their days in the outer sect. Even after Zheng Kinson murdered his own father and practiced a vicious technique to ascend, he still fell short against Miu Tyanh.
Now, as Zheng Kinson slashed his blood-red blade a dozen times, Miu Tyanh dodged every strike with ease. In the courtyard, Miu Tyanh's form flickered like a phantom—dreamlike, electric—his hands gradually turning a glacial blue. Each touch of his claws carved deep, bone-chilling wounds into Zheng Kinson's flesh.
"Umbral Spectre Footwork Art!" Zheng Kinson's face twisted in recognition and dread. This was a top-tier footwork art from the Pavilion of Myriad Arts, a technique so advanced it was said to merge with other elite arts to form the Abyss Pit Sect's legendary divine technique, the Five Spectres Heaven Hell Evasion Footwork. With such a skill, one could traverse the azure skies or dig through the nether depths!
But mastering this art was notoriously difficult, and its cost was exorbitant. Zheng Kinson had never even considered attempting it. He never imagined Miu Tyanh could afford it, let alone master it.
A split-second lapse in focus was all it took. Miu Tyanh evaded Zheng Kinson's blade strike, flashed to his side, and brutally broke his knife-hand. Defenseless, Zheng Kinson took a Heart Ghoul Fist square to the face. His mind buzzed, his will blurring as visions of seductive demonesses materialized around him. They pressed their soft, sweet-scented curve bodies against his chest, swaying in a hypnotic dance that threatened to consume his sanity.
Zheng Kinson was no lustful fool, but even so, he found himself unable to break free from the illusion. Despite his mental defenses, his eyes remained locked in a dazed stare, captivated by the seductive demonesses that danced before him. It wasn't until the illusion finally dissipated that he regained some semblance of consciousness. Several hands helped him up. His head spun, every inch of his body throbbed with pain, and his vision blurred as he struggled to steady himself.
Blood coated his hands as he touched his face, the metallic tang sharp on his tongue.
His junior brothers, who had once looked up to him with starry-eyed reverence, now trembled like frightened rabbits caught in the jaws of a predator. They huddled together, their shoulders forming a quivering, defensive ball. Their darting glances ricocheted through the frozen air like panicked fireflies, unsure of what to do or where to turn.
"Someone… someone go to the Punishment Crypt now—report this attack," Zheng Kinson rasped, his face ashen. The humiliation of the day cut deep, a wound far more painful than the physical injuries he bore. Coughing up blood, he growled his instructions, "Tell them that the lord of the Wraithbone Bloodline has openly provoked us. Demand immediate action!"
The junior brothers exchanged uneasy glances, their fear palpable. After a moment of hesitation, they nudged the youngest among them forward. The boy quavered, his voice barely above a whisper, "Senior Brother… Bloodline Lord Miu has already left. He said he's heading straight to the Punishment Crypt to pay the fine immediately. He… he told you not to bother."
Zheng Kinson nearly vomited blood again at the words. Clutching his chest, he choked down his fury, his voice strained as he demanded, "What else?"
The junior brother hesitated, peeking at Zheng Kinson with wide, fearful eyes before whispering, "He said… if not for Fairy Lith, her highness's sake, he'd have killed you today—to avenge his brother. Even if he doesn't kill you now, he'll… drop by for 'sparring' now and then."
Zheng Kinson: "…"
His mind raced, a storm of rage and confusion. Who the hell is screwing me over?!