Scarlet City's market was already alive when he stepped out that morning. Shouts of merchants, clinking coins, and the scent of roasted beast meat filled the air. He walked among the crowd with his hood up, his aura restrained to that of a mere First Claw cultivator.
It had been a month since he began training in earnest, and though his cultivation had solidified at the peak of First Claw, he sought more. New techniques. Strange treasures. A path forward.
Yet after two hours of searching, all he found were overpriced pills, cracked manuals, and worthless baubles meant to deceive the weak-willed. Disappointment settled over him like a dull fog.
"Tch," he clicked his tongue and turned to leave. "What a waste of time."
That's when he felt it—like a snake brushing across the edge of his soul.
Demon qi.
Faint. Suppressed. But unmistakable.
His eyes sharpened as he scanned the crowd. After a few seconds, he found the source: three people walking together, unhurried. Two of them were plainly dressed—servants by the look of them. The third walked ahead, back straight, a gentle smile on his face. He was dressed in crimson and black robes, embroidered with a faint bone motif at the cuffs.
The crowd welcomed him warmly, some bowing slightly, others calling out greetings.
"Good day, Young Master Yuan!"
"May fortune favor your clan!"
The man responded with polite nods and casual conversation, a model of approachability. But no matter how kind the mask, the demon qi lingered faintly on him… and even more subtly on the two servants.
He kept his distance but followed them through the city.
From the passing gossip, he soon learned the man's identity: Yuan Xuelan, young master of the Bone Clan.
That explained the respect. But not the demon qi.
Humans who cultivated demon qi were rare, despised even among rogue sects. It was dangerous, volatile, and born from demonic blood. Unless… unless they had demonic blood.
How are they using it without being torn apart?
His interest flared.
They didn't head to the Bone Clan estate, but instead exited through a lesser-used gate, walking into the outskirts where the city met the wild.
He followed through forest and brush, suppressing his presence until even beasts failed to notice his passage. After a half-hour trek, they arrived at a secluded valley surrounded by jagged cliffs and thick trees. Mist clung to the ground, and the air was unnaturally still.
A perfect place to hide a secret.
He climbed into the trees, eyes narrowed as he watched from above.
At the valley's center sat a moss-covered stone altar, cracked and ancient, its surface carved with runes dulled by time.
Yuan Xuelan stood before it, hands clasped behind his back.
"Today," he said, smiling warmly at the two kneeling servants, "your loyalty shall be rewarded. You will finally change your fates."
The two looked up, eyes brimming with tears. "Young Master… truly?"
"We are forever yours! Even in death!"
"No need for such words." He pulled out two flasks, metal and engraved with blood-colored symbols. "Drink."
Without hesitation, they uncorked the flasks and drank.
At first, nothing happened.
Then their bodies shuddered. A surge of demon qi erupted from them. Their cultivation began to rise rapidly, shooting from early First Claw to mid, then late… until it stopped at First Claw Seventh Realm.
But something was wrong.
Veins bulged unnaturally. Their skin cracked. Blood began to seep from their eyes, noses, mouths.
"Y-Young Master!" one cried, trembling. "What's happening?!"
The other screamed as his fingers twisted into claws and split open. "It hurts—it hurts!"
Yuan Xuelan tilted his head and chuckled.
Then he laughed.
Loud. Cruel.
"You fools," he said, voice no longer gentle but venomous, "do you really think I would help insects like you without reason?"
Their faces twisted in horror.
"What you drank was demon blood—and the cultivation method I gave you? A Suicide Scripture. The moment you tried to cultivate using true demon essence, your bodies became sacrifices."
"No—please—!"
"Why do you think I'm so strong at my age?" he grinned, eyes glowing faintly red. "I devour the loyal."
The altar glowed.
Crimson chains erupted from its base, coiling around the two servants. They screamed as their flesh withered. Qi poured from their cores into the runes of the altar. Their bones cracked. Their skin dried.
In seconds, they were no more than hollow husks—skin, bone, and empty eyes.
The blood they had once possessed now glowed above the altar, floating in a sphere of dark red light.
Yuan Xuelan stepped forward, lifting a black jade vial.
He began to collect the essence—but paused.
A breeze.
A flicker of movement.
He froze, eyes narrowing.
Then he turned his head slightly toward the trees.
"…Who's there?"