Chapter 6 : The Soul Harvest
2059 Words
"Stay low, Han Ye. Don't let a single drop of your dark aura leak out."
Mo Ran yanked Han Ye’s shoulder roughly, forcing him to hide behind a stack of dry, musty hay.
They were in a small village called Green Bamboo, just a few miles from the border of the Central Continent.
Mo Ran’s breath was warm against Han Ye’s neck, but the man’s attention was fixed entirely on the village square just twenty meters from their hiding spot.
"Your hands have been shaking since we fled the temple," Mo Ran whispered again, his eyes never leaving the crowd ahead.
Han Ye clenched his fists. "Mu Chen is holding my spiritual root. He uses it as if it were his birthright." The hatred was still searing, but the sight in front of him slowly began to shift his focus.
"Why are the villagers lining up? They’re all smiling, Mo Ran. What is this?" Han Ye asked softly.
In the center of the square stood a wooden stage decorated with pristine white silk. Atop it, three cultivators in white robes embroidered with gold thread stood tall. On their chests, the golden sun symbol of the Eternal Light Sect glittered in the afternoon sun.
"It’s called the Ritual of Light’s Blessing," Mo Ran answered, his voice dripping with bitterness. "Every month, they visit remote villages like this. They promise health and longevity to anyone willing to donate a small bit of their life essence for the peace of the world."
A young mother stepped forward, cradling an infant. The woman knelt before one of the cultivators. Her face was full of hope, as if she were looking at a god descended from the heavens.
"Thank you, Your Excellency. Thank you for choosing our village," the woman said, her voice ringing with sincerity.
The cultivator smiled gently, the kind of smile Han Ye used to believe was a symbol of justice. "You are a devoted citizen, child. The Light will always protect you and your son."
The man in white placed his hand on the mother’s forehead. Suddenly, a silvery light emanated from his palm, but it wasn't giving energy.
Han Ye’s eyes widened. With his black eyes that could now see the flow of the Void, he saw the truth.
The silvery light was actually thousands of energy threads piercing the woman’s pores. Those threads were siphoning the bright green life force from within her body.
The woman flinched, her body trembling violently. Within seconds, her once firm and healthy skin began to look sallow. Dark circles appeared under her eyes. Yet, strangely, the woman kept smiling even as she looked as though she were about to faint.
"What are they doing? She’s become so weak in an instant!" Han Ye growled. He tried to stand, but Mo Ran held him down firmly.
"Look at his hand, Han Ye. Don't look away," Mo Ran commanded.
In the cultivator’s hand, the green energy he had just absorbed was rapidly compressed into a tiny, blood-red bead. A pill.
"That," Mo Ran whispered, "is a low-grade Pill of Immortality."
They call it sacred medicine. In reality, that pill is fashioned from the remnants of the very lives they claim to protect. One tiny pill is the result of ten years stolen from an ordinary human life.
"Ten years?" Han Ye felt his stomach turn. "They stole ten years of that woman's life for a single pill?"
"And they are doing it to every soul in this village," Mo Ran added.
Han Ye looked at the line, which still stretched far into the distance. There were the elderly, young men, and even children who seemed eager to be "blessed." They were all oblivious to the fact that they were being farmed like livestock, milked until they were dry.
"Bastards," Han Ye hissed. The dark energy in his veins began to pulse wildly. Wisps of smoke drifted from his fingertips, scorching the straw beneath him. "They call me a demon because I want to kill the ones who betrayed me. But what do you call those who harvest innocent lives just to feed their own ambitions?"
"They call themselves saviors, Han Ye. That is the world you live in," Mo Ran said. His eyes were heavy with a deep, ancient sadness, as if he had witnessed this horror a thousand times before.
Suddenly, a little girl around seven years old ran toward the stage. She was trying to catch up to her mother, who had just stepped down with a staggering, unsteady gait. The girl tripped and collided with the cultivator's leg.
The gentle smile on the cultivator's face vanished instantly. His eyes flashed with cold fury as he looked down at the mud stains on his expensive white robes, left there by the child's feet.
"Filthy creature," the cultivator muttered. His voice was so low that only Han Ye and Mo Ran, with their sharpened senses, could catch it.
The cultivator raised his foot, preparing to kick the small girl. Han Ye could no longer restrain himself. He wrenched his hand from Mo Ran’s grip and leaped from behind the haystacks.
"Han Ye, don't!" Mo Ran shouted, but he was too late.
Han Ye appeared in the center of the square in a blur. Before the cultivator’s foot could strike the girl, Han Ye had already clamped his hand around the man's ankle.
"You said the light would always protect them, didn't you?" Han Ye asked. His voice rumbled like thunder from the depths of an abyss.
The cultivator was stunned. He tried to pull his leg back, but Han Ye’s grip was like a searing iron vice. "Who are you? Unhand me, you lowly wretch!"
Han Ye lifted his head. His hood fell back, revealing pitch-black eyes that sent a wave of terror through the villagers, who began to scream. "I am the nothingness that will erase your lies."
"Elder! It's him! The Demon Bride!" one of the other cultivators shouted.
In an instant, the three cultivators leaped back and drew their blades of light. The villagers who had just been worshipping them scattered in a panic, unable to comprehend the chaos unfolding.
"Run! Everyone, get out of here!" shouted Mo Ran, finally appearing at Han Ye's side. He immediately cast a violet energy shield to protect the little girl, who sat frozen in terror on the stage floor.
"You people from the Demon Sect truly have a death wish," the eldest cultivator said coldly. "How dare you interfere with our sacred harvest ritual."
"Harvest?" Han Ye laughed. The sound was raw and agonizing. "You refer to human lives as a harvest? I will show you what it feels like to be the barren earth that yields nothing."
Han Ye spread his arms. Black energy erupted from his body, swallowing the evening sun and plunging the village square into total darkness. The ground beneath his feet began to crack and dissolve, turning into fine dust that was sucked into the void.
"Destroy him!" the Elder commanded.
The three light-blades slashed in unison, unleashing a wave of searing white energy. However, as the light struck Han Ye’s dark aura, there was no explosion. The light was simply consumed, shrinking and then vanishing as if it had never existed.
The cultivators’ eyes widened. "Impossible! What technique is this?"
Han Ye stepped forward. Each footfall made the space around him tremble. He could hear the Heavenly Emperor’s voice laughing gleefully in his head. "Yes, Han Ye! Erase them! Show them that their light is nothing more than a shadow I have yet to swallow!"
"Han Ye, stop!" Mo Ran cried out. He grabbed Han Ye’s arm, which was already beginning to turn black up to the neck. "If you kill them here, the full force of the Central Light Sect will descend and level this village! You won't be saving them; you'll be bringing about their annihilation!"
Han Ye froze. His breath was ragged, and his chest felt like it was on fire. He looked at the villagers cowering in the corners of buildings, staring at him with a terror far greater than anything they had felt for the cultivators.
In their eyes, Han Ye was the true monster.
"They’re afraid of me," Han Ye whispered, his voice trembling. "I tried to save them, but they’re looking at me like I'm the end of the world."
"Because they don't know the truth," Mo Ran replied softly. He pulled on Han Ye’s hand, trying to suppress the dark energy with his own soul essence. "This is why the Demon Sect exists, Han Ye. We don’t want to destroy the world. We want to destroy this system, even if the world must hate us forever."
Han Ye stared at his palms. The black energy slowly receded, but he knew something inside him had shifted permanently. His belief in heroes in white and villains in black had been shattered into pieces.
Suddenly, a massive bell tolled from the village gates. The sound was so loud it was deafening.
"Their reinforcements are close," Mo Ran said anxiously. "We have to leave now."
Han Ye turned toward the three cultivators, who were now preparing a combined strike. The Elder held a small jade bottle filled with the blood-red pills that had just been harvested.
"Give me the bottle," Han Ye said.
"Don't you wish, demon!"
Han Ye didn't say another word. He stomped his foot, and a wave of nothingness swept across the stage. In a flash, the jade bottle vanished from the Elder’s hand and appeared in Han Ye’s, while the Elder’s own hand began to fade and crumble into ash.
The Elder howled in agony, staring at his arm, which had disappeared up to the elbow.
"This doesn't belong to you," Han Ye said coldly.
He crushed the jade bottle in his hand. The red pills shattered, releasing a green essence that immediately drifted back toward the weakened villagers. Those who had looked withered moments ago slowly began to regain color in their faces.
"Let’s go!" Mo Ran pulled Han Ye into the shadows of the forest just as dozens of other holy cultivators appeared on the horizon.
They ran through the dark trees until they reached a hidden cave behind a waterfall. Han Ye slumped down, leaning his back against the cold stone wall. He felt completely hollow.
"Why didn't you ever tell me the world was this rotten?" Han Ye asked. He watched Mo Ran as the other man tended to a small wound on his arm.
Mo Ran sat down across from him, meeting Han Ye's dark eyes with a profound gaze. "Because I wanted you to see it for yourself. If I had been the one to tell you, you would have just dismissed it as Demon Sect propaganda."
"So this is what you’ve been fighting all along?"
Mo Ran nodded. "The Sect of Eternal Light has been harvesting humans for centuries. They use that energy to extend the lives of the elders and create instant geniuses. Lin Xue, Mu Chen, they are all products of this system. The spiritual root they stole from you? That was just another part of it."
Han Ye fell silent. He remembered the voice of the Heavenly Emperor that was always provoking him. "Then what about the relic I’m searching for? The Emperor said it was to save the world."
Mo Ran’s expression turned grim. "That’s the problem, Han Ye."
That Emperor in your head, he isn't the enemy of the Sect of Light. He is the very reason the Sect exists. And if you gather those seven relics, you aren't saving the world at all.
“What do you mean?” Han Ye asked, his heart pounding against his ribs.
“Those relics aren't meant to seal away evil. They are scattered pieces of the Emperor’s original body. If you bring them together, you won't be wiping out the Sect of Light.”
Mo Ran paused, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
“You will be erasing every living soul on this continent just so he can be reborn. Han Ye, you are helping your own enemy harvest the entire world in one fell swoop.”
Han Ye froze. Inside his mind, the Heavenly Emperor’s voice usually so warm and kind suddenly twisted into a deafening, horrific cackle.
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