Jian Vareth — The Forbidden Blood Emperor

Eps 5

All that remained was a cold, hollow hunger for a world that would burn as brightly as he was burning now.

***

The iron doors of the suppression cell shrieked as they were thrown open, the sound echoing through the damp stone corridor like a dying scream. Jian didn't move. He remained curled on the floor, the soot from the Alchemy Hall now a dried, crusty shell against his skin. The light from the torches held by the guards felt like needles stabbing into his eyes.

"Get up, thief," one of the guards spat, his boot connecting with Jian's bruised ribs. "The Grand Elder doesn't like to be kept waiting. Your time is up."

Jian wheezed, the air rattling in his lungs. He felt hands gripping the chains at his wrists, hauling him upright with a violence that made his shoulders pop. His legs were numb, leaden weights that barely supported him as they dragged him out of the darkness.

They didn't take him back to the courtyard. Instead, they moved through the high, arched corridors of the Inner Sect, a place where handymen were usually forbidden. The floors here were polished white jade, and the walls were adorned with tapestries depicting the great victories of the Sky Cloud Sect. To Jian, they looked like trophies of a slaughterhouse.

"Walk faster, scrap," the other guard growled, giving the chain a sharp tug.

They reached the massive ebony doors of the Hall of Justice. Two stone lions, carved with ancient runes, stood guard at the entrance. As the doors swung open, a wall of cold, oppressive Qi hit Jian, nearly knocking him back. This was the heart of the sect’s authority, a place where the air itself was saturated with the will of the elders.

The hall was a cathedral of judgment. Hundreds of disciples stood in the tiered galleries, their faces obscured by the dim light of floating spirit lamps. At the far end, seated on high, carved thrones, were the five Great Elders. At the centre sat Grand Elder Mo, a man who looked more like a statue of ancient parchment than a living being. His eyes were closed, his long white beard flowing over his lap like a frozen waterfall.

Jian was forced onto his knees in the centre of the hall. The cold jade felt like ice against his raw skin. He kept his head down, but he could feel the weight of a thousand gazes pressing into his back.

"The prisoner is present," Elder Han’s voice rang out, sharp and filled with a performative disgust. He stood to the right of the central dais, holding the jade vial aloft as if it were a holy relic. "Let the record show that Jian Vareth, a handyman of the lowest order, has been found in possession of the Dragon Marrow Pill."

A low murmur rippled through the galleries. Jian looked up, his neck stiff. He searched the faces in the front row. There, standing amongst the elite disciples, was Ling Tian. He looked magnificent in his white silks, his face a mask of solemn concern that didn't reach his cold, calculating eyes. Beside him stood Xiao Feng, who was practically vibrating with a cruel, sycophantic joy.

And then, Jian saw her.

Lin Xier was standing a few paces behind Ling Tian. Her hands were clenched at her sides, and her face was pale, almost translucent. Jian’s heart gave a desperate, painful thud. Xier... look at me. You know I didn't do this. You were the only one who saw the person I really was.

"Jian Vareth," the Grand Elder spoke. His voice didn't carry volume, yet it resonated inside Jian's skull like a tolling bell. "You stand accused of the highest theft. In the history of this sect, no handyman has ever dared to touch a treasure of this magnitude. What say you in your defence?"

Jian tried to swallow, but his throat was a desert. "I... I am innocent, Grand Elder. I was set up."

Laughter erupted from the galleries, a jagged, mocking sound.

"Silence!" Han roared, though he didn't look displeased. He turned his gaze back to Jian. "Set up? By whom? By the very alchemists who have provided for this sect for centuries? By the guards who caught you red-handed?"

"The junior alchemist," Jian said, his voice gaining a desperate strength. "She gave me the vial. She told me it was a talisman to protect me from the fumes! And Wei... a man who looked like Wei told me to go to the hall for extra stones. It was a trap!"

"Bring forth the witness," Elder Han commanded.

The girl from the Alchemy Hall stepped forward. She looked fragile, her eyes brimming with tears as she looked up at the elders. "Grand Elder, I... I am so ashamed. I saw him lurking near the vault. When I confronted him, he begged me not to tell. He said he was hungry, that his family was starving. I felt pity for him, so I tried to give him a simple talisman for his safety. I never imagined he would use that moment of distraction to switch the items. He stole the pill right under my nose!"

She began to sob into her sleeves. It was a flawless performance.

"You lie!" Jian screamed, his chains rattling as he tried to surge forward. "You tucked it into my waistband yourself! You know you did!"

A guard’s heavy gauntlet slammed into the back of Jian's head, forcing his face into the jade floor. The copper taste of blood filled his mouth.

"Keep your tongue behind your teeth, thief," the guard hissed.

"Grand Elder Mo," Ling Tian’s voice rose, calm and melodious, cutting through the tension like a silk ribbon. "If I may speak? I have known this boy since he arrived. He has always harboured a certain... resentment toward those of us with spiritual roots. I tried to guide him, even on the stairs yesterday, hoping a taste of humility would save him from this path. But it seems his envy has turned into a madness that not even the sect’s laws can easily cure."

"Your compassion is well known, Ling Tian," Grand Elder Mo said, his eyes finally fluttering open. They were grey, devoid of any warmth or human emotion. "But the law does not concern itself with envy. It concerns itself with the preservation of order."

Jian pushed his face off the floor, his vision blurring. He ignored Ling Tian. He ignored the elders. He looked directly at Lin Xier. "Xier! Please! You know I was working on the stairs all day yesterday. You saw what he did to me! You know I wouldn't do this! Tell them! Tell them you saw him bullying me!"

The entire hall went silent. Every eye turned toward the young woman.

Lin Xier trembled. She looked at Ling Tian, whose expression remained one of serene sadness, but his hand subtly moved to the jade pendant at his waist—the symbol of his family’s immense political power within the sect. Then she looked at the elders, who waited for her to speak.

Finally, she looked toward Jian. For a heartbeat, their eyes met. Jian saw the fear in her gaze, the sheer terror of what would happen if she spoke the truth. She was a rising star, a disciple with a bright future. If she stood with him, she would be dragged down into the mud.

Lin Xier slowly lowered her head. She didn't speak a word. She didn't even acknowledge his plea. She turned her body away from him, placing herself firmly behind Ling Tian, casting Jian into the shadow of his enemy.

The last sliver of warmth in Jian’s chest didn't just fade; it froze. It shattered into a million jagged pieces of ice. Even you, he thought, the realisation more painful than any physical blow. Even you would rather see me burn than risk your own comfort.

In that moment, the world changed for Jian Vareth. The 'righteous' sect he had dreamed of joining, the 'love' he had hoped to find, the 'justice' he had believed in—it was all a lie. A beautiful, gilded cage built on the bones of the weak.

"It seems even your friends cannot find a word of defence for you," Elder Han sneered. "Grand Elder, the evidence is insurmountable. The prisoner has no spiritual root of value, yet he dared to steal the very essence of our sect's future. He must be made an example of."

Grand Elder Mo stood up.