Dawn slowly crept over the eastern horizon, casting golden light on a valley still wrapped in mist. Dried blood stained the ground of the Eastern Dark Valley, darkened to black—silent testimony of the tragedy that took place the night before. The morning breeze carried a metallic scent, mingling with the damp earth, brushing against the faces of two figures slowly walking away from the scene.
Mo Fan walked ahead, his steps light, as if the night had merely been a fleeting nightmare. A lewd grin spread across his face, his demonic eyes scanning the surroundings with lively curiosity. Behind him, Su Wan'er followed with a mix of annoyance, suspicion, and confusion on her face. Her cheeks still held a faint blush from what had happened last night.
"You know, Wan'er… if you keep staring at me like that, I might get the wrong idea," Mo Fan said, glancing back with a wicked smirk. "Did watching me butcher three men with a warm smile make you fall for me?"
Su Wan'er snorted, trying to hide the flush on her face. "Maybe I'm just thinking about the best time to slit your throat."
"Oof… fiesty women are definitely my type. But if you're going to stab me, make sure it's not with a sword. I'd rather you use… something warmer," he teased with a wink.
Su Wan'er nearly threw a rock at him, but Mo Fan danced to the side with ease, laughing heartily.
"A rock from a beautiful girl in the morning… feels like a romantic breakfast." He patted his chest. "But seriously, sleeping near you last night gave me the wettest dream."
"We didn't sleep together!" Su Wan'er shouted, blushing furiously.
"But you were close enough, and your scent soaked into my bones. It felt like… a hug from both heaven and hell," Mo Fan said, lowering his head as if inhaling her lingering scent.
Their journey led them north, across jagged paths and through the wild forest known as the Forest of a Thousand Mists. Legend said it was a gray zone between the realm of the living and the dead, where lost souls wandered aimlessly.
Mo Fan whistled a lighthearted tune, sometimes humming dirty songs that made Su Wan'er clench her fists.
"You know, last night you slept hugging your sword like you were ready to gut me at any moment. But honestly, I'd rather be hugged by your body than that cold piece of metal."
"If you don't shut up, I'll use this sword to cut off something completely useless hanging between your legs," Su Wan'er said coldly.
Mo Fan raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. Only because you're beautiful. And I do have respect for gorgeous women… especially those with long legs and tempting curves."
But after two days of wandering aimlessly, Mo Fan's mood began to shift. His eyes occasionally stared off blankly, his lips twitched, and his face grew darker.
Su Wan'er glanced at him, puzzled. "Are you… sick?"
"Sick? No. Just tired. Two days walking with you, and I've been holding back the urge to either stab you… or kiss you, depending on my mood," Mo Fan muttered with a sharp edge.
Su Wan'er narrowed her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I mean… go. I don't need a follower, especially not a holy maiden who talks with a blade. Leave. My path is dark, soaked in blood and fire. You… you shine too brightly for it."
She hesitated, unsure. But before she could reply, strange noises echoed around them.
Crunch… Snap…
Leaves rustled unnaturally. Heavy footsteps crept through the mist. Then three burly men emerged, wielding crude weapons and wearing rough leather armor. Their eyes gleamed with feral hunger. The aura they gave off showed they were at the third level of Qi Refining.
"Well, well… look what we found. A lost couple in the mist," one of them said with a wide grin.
"That girl's pretty. But the guy… talks too damn much."
Su Wan'er immediately drew her sword, but Mo Fan stepped forward first, an unsettling smile stretched across his face.
"Three of you? Just three? What a stingy world…"
"Hah?! You got a death wish?!" one of them shouted.
Without warning, they attacked. Blades and spears slashed toward Mo Fan. But with swift, brutal precision, he dodged and countered. His left hand turned pitch black as demonic claws burst forth, tearing into one man's chest.
SHHRRIPP!!
Blood sprayed. A scream tore through the air.
"AARGHH!!"
Su Wan'er froze in shock. In less than five breaths, two of the attackers lay dead in a pool of gore. The third tried to run, but Mo Fan appeared before him in a blur.
BOOM!!
The demon claw ripped his head apart.
Silence.
Su Wan'er stared at the blood-soaked corpses, her eyes wide.
"You… killed them that fast…?"
Mo Fan stood panting, drenched in blood, but his eyes gleamed with wild delight.
"I told you… I'm no hero. I'm a walking disaster."
But before Mo Fan could absorb their souls, a voice echoed in his mind.
— "Stop. If you keep consuming souls in your current state, your body and spirit will collapse. You'll become a mindless slaughter machine, ruled by the Wail of a Thousand Souls."
It was the voice of the Demon God inside him—stern and icy, filled with warning.
Mo Fan grunted and clenched his fists. "Tch… soul-sucking feels better than sex. But fine… I'll behave this time."
Su Wan'er watched him, seeing the inner struggle on his bloodstained face. Her gaze softened, mingling fear and sympathy. This man… was not normal.
The mist swallowed their voices again, but through it all, Mo Fan's maniacal laughter echoed.
"HAHAHAHAHA… hahaha…"
His laughter slowly faded, replaced by heavy breathing. He sat on a rock, still soaked in blood, but wore a satisfied grin. In the tense silence, the voice returned—quieter this time, yet no less terrifying.
"Boy… you're becoming more like me," the Demon God said.
Mo Fan smirked and muttered, "Tell me, Master… who are you really?"
The voice chuckled lazily, replying with a dark tone.
— "Hmph. It's time you knew. My name… is Long Zhuyin. The Demon God who made the Nine Heavens tremble and brought the Seven Hells to their knees. A name once feared even by the Heavenly Kings."
"Heavenly Kings? What level is that?" Mo Fan frowned, confused.
Long Zhuyin scoffed. "It's meaningless to explain to someone still stuck at Qi Refining level two."
"Hmph… fair enough."
Mo Fan nodded, his eyes glinting with strange respect. "Master Long Zhuyin, huh? Fitting name for the ancient freak squatting in my head."
"And you, brat, are the heir to my cursed legacy. But this inheritance isn't just power—it's knowledge. You've already learned the Black Slaughter Claw, right?"
Mo Fan chuckled. "That? Most fun technique I've ever used. Tearing flesh like wet paper. Exhilarating."
"Hah! That's just a low-grade superior technique, you idiot. There are far greater ones above it."
"Wait, martial techniques have levels too?"
"Of course. Common, Good, Superior—like yours. Then Heavenly, Sacred, and the highest… Forbidden. Like the Devourer Technique I gave you. But be warned—only certain beings can handle it. If you're not ready, it'll devour you instead. And every level has three grades: Low, Mid, and High."
Mo Fan nodded slowly, staring at his blood-dripping hand. "Forbidden level, huh? Sounds… delicious."
Behind the bushes, Su Wan'er watched him muttering and laughing to himself. Her expression shifted. "He's… insane. He's truly insane…" she whispered, caught between fear and pity. Her hand tightened on her sword's hilt, but she didn't step forward. Doubt clouded her eyes.
As if sensing her gaze, Mo Fan turned slowly. "Hey, Wan'er. Still there? I thought you'd run off, scared I might start licking human blood."
Su Wan'er sighed. "You're not… an ordinary man."
"And you're not an ordinary woman, either. I knew that from your scent," he replied cheekily, standing up and stretching. "If you need to take a leak, go on. I'll guard this spot."
Her cheeks flushed with irritation. "I wasn't going to—ugh! Fine. But don't go anywhere, Mo Fan. Promise me."
Mo Fan raised two fingers. "Demon's honor. I won't move… farther than a bunny can hop."
She scoffed and walked away into the mist. But in truth, she wasn't going to relieve herself. Days ago, she had sent a message through a communication talisman… to someone who was now drawing ever closer to their location.
Mo Fan watched her go, then spat on the ground. "Tch… finally, that clingy leech is gone."
He dusted himself off. "Alright then, time for me… to vanish."
In an instant, Mo Fan's body darted into the forest, as silent as a shadow swallowed by the mist. He left only faint footprints on the damp earth, heading in the opposite direction from Su Wan'er.
"Sorry, Wan'er. I do like your body, but… I prefer freedom," he murmured.
In the distance, Su Wan'er turned from her hiding spot, only to find the place empty.
"…Mo Fan?" Her voice was soft, tinged with worry. Her eyes swept the area, but only the mist responded.
She bit her lip. "That bastard… slipped away again."
But before she could take a single step to search for him, a large shadow emerged from behind a tree. A tall man in a dark blue robe stepped into view, his face stern yet cold as he fixed his gaze on Su Wan'er.
"Wan'er." His voice was deep and calm. "You're safe… thank the heavens."
Su Wan'er's eyes widened. "Senior Qing Yue… you came?"
Qing Yue gave a small nod. But his eyes sharpened instantly. "You were with him, weren't you? The young man who slaughtered everyone in the Eastern Root Valley."
Su Wan'er gripped the hilt of her sword tightly. "He's… he's not what you think. He's… complicated."
"There's nothing complicated about a demon," Qing Yue said coldly, his voice laced with disdain.
Su Wan'er fell silent as a cold wind swept through the trees again. The mist swirled and danced between the trunks, as if trying to conceal a shadow… someone watching from afar with a suppressed, maniacal chuckle.
Heh… heheheh…