Chapter 6
1780 Words
"What have you done?!"
Xuè Wúshēng, who had been sitting leisurely atop a mound of corpses, slowly raised his head. A cold grin lifted the corner of his lips as his gaze fell upon six figures floating in the air.
The six most exalted clan leaders of the Tianxia world.
"So you finally decided to show yourselves," he said calmly. "Have you had enough hiding?"
"Xuè Wúshēng!" roared Fēng Shòu, Clan Head of Gu, his voice brimming with rage. "Why did you kill them all?! What grievance did they ever have against you?!"
Xuè Wúshēng let out a soft chuckle. He rose to his feet, stepping over lifeless bodies without the slightest trace of guilt.
"Hey, old man," he said with a lazy yawn. "Could you stop shouting and quit asking stupid questions?"
His deep crimson eyes swept across the six clan leaders one by one.
"If you're dissatisfied, then fight me. Right now, you six are the only ones I haven't killed yet."
Fēng Shòu's fury erupted completely.
Without wasting another second, he reached into his sleeve and drew out a jet-black Mò Bǐ. With a swift motion, he wrote several characters into the air. Each character glowed with a dark radiance before transforming into blades of qi that tore through the air, rushing toward Xuè Wúshēng from every direction.
At the same time, the other five clan leaders made their move.
Their auras surged. Signature techniques belonging to the clan heads were unleashed simultaneously. Swords, spears, fire, wind, and radiant qi merged into a single colossal assault, roaring toward one lone target.
Xuè Wúshēng stood at the center of the raging storm without the slightest hint of fear—his lips curved in a faint grin.
Yet every single attack halted before him.
Three torrents of qi burst forth from his body, each taking shape as a figure resembling Xuè Wúshēng, though each bore a different appearance. The three manifestations stood tall, radiating an overwhelming and terrifying pressure.
The clan leaders' attacks shattered the instant they made contact with the three qi incarnations. In response, the incarnations counterattacked, executing Xuè Wúshēng's signature sword techniques. Devastating waves of slashes erupted outward, striking all six clan leaders simultaneously and forcing them to retreat several steps back in midair.
Their expressions changed dramatically. Blood seeped from the corners of their mouths—they clearly had not expected the power before them to have reached such a level.
Xuè Wúshēng smiled coldly.
"I suppose there's no need for me to introduce the three of them anymore."
"Monster!" Fēng Shòu shouted, his voice trembling as he struggled to suppress both rage and fear.
Xuè Wúshēng slightly turned his head, looking toward one of the crimson qi incarnations standing beside him.
"Hey, King of Cruelty," he said casually. "Kill that old man a little faster."
The qi incarnation moved.
Without warning, the battlefield shook once more.
The battle raged on without pause. Blow after blow was exchanged with terrifying force. The ground below cracked and split apart, while the sky above trembled violently. Floating landmasses shattered into fragments, and towering mountains collapsed into rubble, reduced to dust by the aftermath of their clash.
"Xuè Wúshēng!"
Fēng Shòu's scream echoed with unrestrained hatred. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he fell to his knees, his body trembling as he endured the agony. His left arm had been severed, lying lifelessly at his side.
"You should never have been born into this world!" he roared. "You should not exist! You are not an Immortal… you are a demon! A demon!"
"Young Master!"
"Argh—!"
Xuè Wúshēng jolted upright.
His breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His eyes darted around the room, searching for the shadows of battle still clinging to his mind.
There were no corpses.
No blood.
Only the quiet stillness of the room.
It had been nothing more than a dream.
Memories from his past life had returned to haunt his sleep.
Xuè Wúshēng clenched the bedsheets, trying to steady the frantic beating of his heart. Cold sweat soaked his forehead.
"A demon?" he whispered softly. "What is a demon…?"
He slowly shook his head. "I am not a demon."
"Young Master is not a demon."
Yun Rou's voice came from beside the bed. It was gentle, soothing, as she tried to calm her young master.
Xuè Wúshēng turned toward her and saw Yun Rou standing there, her face filled with concern.
"You were only dreaming," Yun Rou continued softly. "Young Master is still here."
Xuè Wúshēng let out a long breath. Yet the echoes of that scream still lingered in the depths of his mind.
"Why should I care about any of that…" he murmured inwardly.
The corners of Xuè Wúshēng's lips lifted into a cold smile.
"Even if I am a demon…" he thought, "I have already killed them all. Not a single one remains. Only me—and I am the strongest demon of all."
A quiet laugh stirred within his chest—soundless, motionless. Only his eyes narrowed slightly.
"Y-Young Master…" Yun Rou's voice trembled.
She grew increasingly uneasy as she watched the change in Xuè Wúshēng's expression. That smile was not accompanied by laughter, yet it was more than enough to send her heart into a frantic rhythm.
At that moment, the morning sunlight began to seep into the room through the window, breaking apart the lingering darkness of the night.
"Yun Rou."
"Yes, Young Master."
"Let us kill all the monsters in that forest."
"Us…?" Yun Rou's voice was soft, barely audible.
"Only me," Xuè Wúshēng replied calmly. "You will simply follow."
"But… I am afraid."
Xuè Wúshēng drew a deep breath before looking at her.
"You will not die. Trust me."
Yun Rou fell silent, then nodded slowly, her heart still filled with doubt.
"When will we leave?" she asked.
"Have you cooked yet?" Xuè Wúshēng asked in return.
Yun Rou shook her head.
"Go and cook first," he said briefly. "We will leave after we have eaten."
"Yes, Young Master." Yun Rou bowed respectfully. "I will go cook now."
She stepped out of the room, leaving Xuè Wúshēng gazing toward the cold light of the morning.
**
That morning, as Xuè Wúshēng ate his meal, his gaze occasionally drifted toward Yun Rou. The girl seemed far too busy. Her hands never stopped as she arranged clothes, folded fabric, and ensured that all necessities were prepared. She did not sit down to eat with him at all.
Her expression was bright, her movements light. Her joy was evident, needing no words to be expressed.
Xuè Wúshēng swallowed his final mouthful slowly.
One thing became clear in his mind. Everything Yun Rou did was not because of an order, nor merely out of duty. It came from sincerity—from a wholehearted desire to take care of her young master.
The feeling was unfamiliar.
In his previous life, he had never had an attendant. Not even a single friend. In moments of solitude, he spoke only to his own qi—power that obeyed him, yet never understood him.
But now, things were different.
He had someone willing to remain by his side. Someone who watched over his meals and daily needs, staying awake day and night without complaint.
Xuè Wúshēng lowered his gaze.
The problem was, Yun Rou did not know one crucial thing.
The body she addressed as "Young Master"…
no longer belonged to its original owner.
That thought lingered in Xuè Wúshēng's mind as the morning continued to rise.
"Young Master, please wear this," Yun Rou said as she lifted a luxurious robe. The fabric was fine, adorned with silk cords that served as a belt.
Xuè Wúshēng rose from his chair. "I am going to kill monsters, Yun Rou. Not go for a stroll."
"I know," Yun Rou replied calmly. "However, Young Master must dress properly. It represents your status."
Xuè Wúshēng looked at her for a moment. "It is thinking like that which gives birth to oppression. The rich trample the poor. The talented exploit the unfortunate. The world never changes."
"Young Master is mistaken," Yun Rou answered without hesitation. "The Xuè Clan has never been like that. Everyone is given a chance, whether they are talented or not. To the clan, every life has value."
"Have you seen it with your own eyes?"
Yun Rou nodded. "My father and mother came from the very lowest stratum. They lived as wanderers before the Xuè Clan accepted them as members. And Young Master himself… has never once treated this servant with contempt."
Xuè Wúshēng began to remove his robe. His well-defined muscles were revealed clearly. Yun Rou froze for a brief moment, then swallowed before turning her face away.
Xuè Wúshēng spoke again, his tone calm. "What if I were to kill all the humans in this world? Would you agree, or not?"
Yun Rou lifted her gaze. "Why would Young Master wish to kill them? Most humans have long lived in suffering." Yun Rou took a breath. "Many are crushed and driven to despair. Yet they continue to struggle even when they know that by tomorrow or the day after, they may no longer be alive. They live while waiting for death itself to come and claim them."
Xuè Wúshēng frowned. "Is their existence truly that miserable?"
"Monsters, spirits, and demons do not possess reason like humans do, Young Master," Yun Rou replied. "They know only how to kill. Begging for mercy holds no meaning. In the end, death is inevitable. That is why the Alliance was formed—to protect humanity from such beings."
Xuè Wúshēng fell silent.
Those words did not bring peace to his heart, but they were enough to make him think far longer than he had expected.
Seeing Xuè Wúshēng remain quiet, Yun Rou stepped behind him and carefully draped the robe over her young master's body, every movement measured, gentle, and respectful.
"Right now, Young Master is no longer the same as before. You have obtained the qi you have long desired. You have become a Cultivator," Yun Rou explained calmly. "It is time for Young Master to bear your responsibility as a protector of the weak."
Xuè Wúshēng raised his gaze. "I wonder… do you truly have no intention of seeking revenge for the deaths of your father and mother?"
Yun Rou did not answer immediately. Her hands continued to adjust the robe she had just placed upon her young master, each motion soft and reverent.
"I am only waiting for Young Master," she replied at last.
That answer was more than enough.
Xuè Wúshēng understood without needing to ask anything further.
- Writer
