The midnight bell had long since tolled when Ling Tian slipped through the herb garden's rusted gate. Moonlight painted the rows of spirit herbs in silver and shadow, their leaves trembling in the cold wind.
Something was wrong.
The soil beneath his boots squelched unnaturally, as if breathing. The air reeked of iron and rotting petals.
A low groan echoed through the garden.
Ling Tian froze. The sound hadn't come from any beast—it came from the earth itself.
Then he saw it.
Between the rows of moonlit herbs, the soil pulsed like a living heart. Dark veins spread outward from a central point where a single flower bloomed—crimson petals unfurling around a blackened core.
The Bloodbloom.
Qing'er's warning flashed through his mind: "They're feeding the sect to this flower."
A rustle to his left. Ling Tian spun, dagger drawn—
—only for Qing'er to materialize from the shadows, her blindfolded face tilted toward the pulsating earth.
"You feel it too," she whispered. "The hunger."
The moment the words left her lips, the garden erupted.
Vines thicker than a man's arm burst from the soil, thorns glistening with venom. One lashed toward Ling Tian's throat—
Qing'er's sword flashed. The severed vine writhed on the ground, spraying black ichor.
"Don't let it touch your skin!"
Ling Tian ducked as another vine whistled overhead. He rolled forward, dagger slashing, but the thorns deflected the blade like steel.
The Bloodbloom's core pulsed faster now, its rhythm matching the frantic hammering of Ling Tian's heart. The vines moved with purpose—herding them toward the center.
Qing'er pivoted, her blade tracing silver arcs in the moonlight. "It's not just a plant. There's a core—"
A vine wrapped around Ling Tian's ankle and yanked.
The world upended. He crashed onto his back, the impact driving the air from his lungs. The dagger flew from his grip as the vine dragged him toward the Bloodbloom's gaping center.
Black tendrils snaked up his legs, burning through fabric like acid.
Ling Tian roared.
Dragonfire Wrath.
Crimson qi erupted from his palms, searing through the vines. A shriek tore through the garden —a sound no plant should make—as flames licked at the Bloodbloom's petals.
Qing'er lunged, her sword plunging into the flower's heart.
For a heartbeat, silence.
Then—
The earth exploded.