At Violet Peak, two figures were together: a beautiful woman, sitting on a rock, holding a gourd of wine in one hand and a red rope in the other, and a young man with delicate features standing before her, slightly trembling.
"Disciple, stop trembling, this is for your own good. If you want to awaken your bloodline, you'll have to suffer. Don't be afraid, I won't whip you too hard." The woman spoke with a chuckle, her face flushed from the wine. She was drunk.
"Master, it would be better to do this after you return to normal." The young man said in a scared voice, clearly afraid of being brutally beaten.
"I'm not truly overcome by the wine. I'm a powerful cultivator, do you think this would dominate me? Ling Huo, you don't need to be afraid." The woman answered her disciple in a soft voice.
But to Ling Huo, it was the whisper of a demon.
"I could just leave," he gulped, watching his master sway the rope in rhythm with her drinking. She was utterly unreliable; the only good thing about her was her beauty.
If he could describe her, he would say she had hair as purple as the purest violet ink, falling down her back in straight waves, and a beautiful pair of pupils the same color as her hair, yet somehow different, as if they held a vast ocean, brilliant and filled with knowledge.
Her face was a perfectly sculpted work of art, and the blush made it even more beautiful; her skin was more crystalline than a piece of crystal.
'Beautiful, but so sadistic.' He was certain of it, especially since a month ago she had chosen him to be her disciple. Since then, she had been helping him awaken his bloodline in a very unkind way, beating him every day with a smile on her face.
He wasn't convinced, but he believed he had been chosen just to be a punching bag. He couldn't really judge, but that possibility seemed almost true.
The woman before him, unaware of Ling Huo's thoughts, stood up from the rock.
"You can't leave. You'll have to endure it." She whispered again, this time exuding authority.
Ling Huo, after hearing those words, cried internally, preparing for his pitiful state after the beating.
"M-Master, be gentle." He accepted that he was going to be beaten and, to lessen the blows, begged her to go easy.
"Okay." The woman agreed with her lips and then smiled lightly. "Catch it, disciple, it's slow."
She spun the rope through the air, giving it a few swings, and then threw it forward. The object moved at the speed of a turtle, so slowly it seemed time itself had slowed down.
Ling Huo, seeing this, felt a crisis. 'Why do I feel like this is worse than the previous times?'
He panicked and quickly took a step to the side, but didn't get very far: he too was moving in slow motion.
"Damn it!" He cursed and realized it wasn't just the rope—everything in that damned place had slowed down. 'This lunatic never goes easy... Even if I beg, it's useless.'
Frustrated, he soon stopped trying to dodge. Sighing, he placed his arms in front of himself, ready to block. At the same time, he stared at the red rope slowly approaching.
After several minutes, it finally reached him. The moment it touched him, Ling Huo felt as if a mountain was pressing down on his entire body. Unable to resist, he collapsed to his knees, instantly feeling an intense headache from the pressure.
"This h-hurts..." he stammered, almost groaning from the agony. Unable to bear it, he placed his hands on the cold ground.
Soon he began sinking, the rope still falling in slow motion, pushing him further and further down. The ground beneath his fingers gave way in a landslide, and his nails turned into excavators, tearing into the earth.
"Damn it! Is this sadist trying to kill me? I'm just a mortal! My arms are already tearing apart!" He vented his frustration while his bones creaked; just a little more and they would break.
"Master! I can't take it anymore!" He screamed, his voice barely coming out.
The woman, sitting far away on the ground, did nothing, ignoring his pleas. Raising the gourd of wine to her mouth, after a gulp, her face changed—no longer red, but indifferent.
"Ling Huo, stop with this cowardly mindset! You are my disciple. Do you know who I am? I am someone who has dominated all my peers. I'm betting on you because I can see your potential. If you continue with this weak character, then get out of my sight. If you decide that, I'll stop now. After that, never say you were my disciple, never again say you were the disciple of Nangong Xue."
'What? I'm weak?' Ling Huo gritted his teeth, feeling his eyes burn with invisible fury.
"Damn it! What do you think I am? I'm just a fucking mortal, who until recently didn't even know about this bullshit of cultivators! And it's my fault?"
He grew angry, feeling his blood heat up abnormally. His master's words had truly hurt him.
'Heh, a sadist for sure. I guess she thinks everyone has to follow her example.'
He laughed aloud, not caring whether she heard or not. Digging his nails into the ground, he used all his strength to push himself up. His muscles tensed, and his spine was forced to stand straight.
Ling Huo, at that moment, felt extreme numbness throughout his body, but out of pride, he stood up. Once upright, he grabbed the rope above him and shot a look at his master.
"Harder, Nangong Xue!" He didn't call her "Master" as usual; his temporary resentment didn't allow it.
Ahead, Nangong Xue smiled, revealing beautiful white teeth.
"I'll apply more pressure, my brave disciple."
Finishing her words, she exerted more force on the rope that connected the two from ten meters apart, resembling a thread of fate.
Behind her, Ling Huo felt the pressure double. Once again, his knees threatened to buckle, but unlike before, he wouldn't accept it so easily.
'I won't surrender! I won't have a weak character anymore, according to this woman!'
At the moment he decided this, he dug his nails into the rope, holding the weight of a shroud. In the process, several parts of his body broke, yet he did not let go.
Roarrrrr!
At that moment, Ling Huo roared in an inhuman way. He didn't know how he did it—it was pure instinct.
Soon after, inside his body, thunderous sounds echoed, and his blood was expelled, launching against his skin and tearing it apart. On the outside, Ling Huo turned into a crimson man, clutching the red rope, creating an unforgettable scene.
But that was not all for today. At the moment the blood was expelled from his body, another substance replaced it: a kind of golden liquid began to emerge.