His hands, which had been steady just a moment before, began to tremble. A profound, unnatural chill, born not from the wind but from a deep, spiritual dread, seeped into the bandit’s very bones. My hands… he thought, his own breath catching in his throat as he watched the boy before him. They feel so cold… He lifted a quivering hand to his face, his gaze locked on the impossible sight unfolding in the heart of the clearing.

  The faint, shimmering lights of the world’s Qi, which had been a gentle, swirling river around Wei Zheng, were now a raging, chaotic maelstrom. A crimson inferno erupted from the boy’s small frame, an unholy light that pulsed with a raw, demonic power, coalescing into a searing red aura that warped the very air around him. The bandit’s knees gave out, and he crashed to the hard-packed earth, his earlier bravado shattered into a million pieces of pure, instinctual terror.

  A low, soft whisper escaped Wei Zheng’s lips, a sound that was somehow more terrifying than any shout. "I feel… so alive." He slowly lifted a hand, a small, almost curious grin curving his lips as his eyes analyzed the new, terrifying power that now coursed through his veins.

  "T-This…" another bandit breathed, his voice a choked, disbelieving gasp as he took a staggered step back. "He's at the peak of the Qi Sensing Realm… he jumped… two stages…" His eyes widened further, a new layer of horror dawning. "N-Not only that, he's… about to enter the Body Tempering Realm!"

  The bandit’s fear was incinerated by a surge of desperate, suicidal rage. With a guttural roar, he launched himself forward, his boots leaving the pavement as he swung his steel dagger in a wide, cleaving arc aimed at Wei Zheng’s face.

  It connected, not with the satisfying tear of flesh, but with a sharp, deafening CLANG that vibrated up to his very teeth. The blade exploded upon impact, disintegrating into a cloud of glittering, useless dust.

  "Tch, that stings, bastard," Wei Zheng said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. Incredible, he thought, a wave of dawning comprehension washing over him. I felt my own Qi harden against that spot, shattering the blade into pieces… did I do it unconsciously? He slowly closed his fist, focusing the immense, raging torrent of Qi onto his knuckles. I can feel it… It's… tempering my body?! It had all happened in mere seconds, but for Wei Zheng, time seemed to slow, entranced by the revelation of his own impossible transformation.

  CRUNCH!

  "AGH!" The bandit was sent tumbling backwards across the desolate landscape, his ribs shattering with a sound like dry twigs snapping.

  "F-Fuck! Just… end m—"

  SPLAT!

  His plea was cut short as Wei Zheng’s foot came down with a final, devastating stomp. The man’s head exploded, cracks forming in the hard-packed earth from the sheer, concussive force.

  "Who's nex—" A sharp sting lanced through Wei Zheng’s left side. A third bandit, moving with a desperate, final burst of courage, had pressed his dagger deep into the boy's flank.

  "DIE, YOU BRAT!"

  Wei Zheng grit his teeth, the pain a distant, irrelevant thing. He slowly reached out, his hand clamping around the bandit’s head. With a single, brutal motion, he smashed it downwards, creating a small, bloody crater in the earth.

  He stood amidst the carnage, his chest heaving, his own blood now mingling with that of his enemies. He slowly straightened his body, settling into a fighting stance as a thin trail of crimson trickled from the corner of his mouth.

  "Right," he said, his voice a quiet acknowledgment of his new, deadly reality. "A dagger can still… damage me."

  The wind, a cold and mournful whisper, found its way through a tear in the tent flap, its icy breath extinguishing the last flickering candle flame. The sudden plunge into darkness did nothing to lessen the tension in the room. Hao Yifeng’s hand tightened its grip on the bandit’s collar, lifting the ruined man into the air with an almost casual ease. Guo’s body, once a formidable mountain of tempered muscle, was now an unrecognizable wreck, his breath coming in shallow, whimpering gasps.

  "You fought greatly," Yifeng said, his voice a soft, almost intimate murmur. "You even used a forbidden pill to increase your cultivation level. Impressive." He watched the life slowly draining from the man’s eyes. "But, that obviously wasn't enough." A small chuckle escaped his lips. It started as a low, private sound of amusement before it began to swell, growing louder and more hysterical by the second until it erupted into a peal of manic, unhinged laughter that spilled from the tent and washed over the entire fortress.

  Outside, a group of bandits shivered, the sound a physical thing that crawled under their skin. "What the hell… is happening in there?" one of them whispered, his gaze fixed on the trembling tent walls.

  Another gulped, turning away as if the sight itself were a curse. "Ignore it," he hissed. "He must be torturing someone."

  Across the muddy grounds, the slaves sat in a tense, expectant silence, their hearts a collective, frantic drum. They had been waiting. They had been hoping. In the muddy pen, a girl was shoved to the ground, a bandit’s crude insults a harsh counterpoint to her silent, enduring shame. She, too, was waiting.

  Wanxia stood in the deep shadows between two tents, biting her nails, her own heart racing in anticipation. What's with the laughing… she thought, her gaze darting towards Yifeng’s tent. Is this the signal…? She lifted a makeshift horn, carved from the bone of some great beast, and was about to raise it to her lips.

  The tent flap flew open. A body, Guo’s, was propelled through the air as if shot from a cannon. It sailed over the heads of the startled bandits, a grim and final messenger, before landing squarely in the central bonfire. For a heart-stopping moment, it simply lay there, sizzling. Then, a talisman that had been strapped to its chest flared with a blinding, incandescent light.

  BOOM!

  "NOW!"

  BRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTT!

  Wanxia blew the horn, the sound a deep, guttural blast that shattered the night air. The bandits, jolted from their shock by the war cry, instinctively stood straight, their hands flying to their daggers.

  They were too late. The slaves were already on them.

  "KILL THEM ALL!"

  "Fuck! What the hell, do they really think they can wi—" The bandit’s words were cut off by a wet, tearing sound as a slave, his face a mask of furious tears, slit his throat from behind.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "YOU FUCKING PIG!" the slave screamed, piercing the bandit’s body again and again, each thrust a release of years of pent-up rage and grief.

  "What the hell is going on?!" A bandit at the latter stages of the Qi Sensing Realm cleaved through the initial chaos, his blade a blur of motion. A sharp kick connected with his chin, sending him stumbling back in a daze.

  "Stay down, bastard!" Xu Chenxi yelled, her small frame radiating a surprising power. "They'll escape, and slaughter every single one of you!" She turned, her gaze sweeping the battlefield before she began to climb the fortress walls, heading for the slaves trapped in the watchtowers. "I didn't expect we'd raise a rebellion, Big Sis," she muttered to herself, her own excitement a fierce, burning thing. "Although, where are you, Wei Zheng?!"

  Amidst the carnage, Hao Yifeng danced. He moved through the chaos with a serene, almost balletic grace, his hands waving in time to the symphony of slaughter that filled his ears. "How… beautiful," he whispered, a single, shimmering tear daring to escape his eye. He wiped it away with a callous finger. "Father," he said to the empty air, "I wish you were here to see it… Oh, wait! You're about to!"

  His cloak billowed in the wind, his yellow eyes glinting with a manic light as he watched the flames begin to lick at the wooden palisades, the fire growing with every passing second. "I just hope this is enough," he mused, his smile unwavering. "I can't handle my father's army alone."

  He continued his walk, a calm island in a sea of violence. A bandit, his arm bleeding, reached out a desperate hand towards Yifeng, pleading for help. Yifeng didn't break his stride. He simply brought his boot down, crushing the man’s hand with a sickening crunch of bone.

  "Just lie down and die," he grinned, his voice a silken whisper that was lost in the roar of the flames and the cries of the dying. "Like the trash you are."

  His footsteps came to a sudden, silent stop, the crunch of his boots on the forest floor the last sound before a profound stillness settled over the clearing. Hao Xua’s hand moved, a slow, deliberate motion as his sword was unsheathed from its hilt with a whisper of steel. He held the blade low, its polished surface a dark mirror in the gloom of the deep woods. "Find them," he commanded, his voice a low, final rumble.

  The few cloaked men following him came to a halt, their brows furrowed in confusion before they cleared their throats, the sharp sound echoing in the tense air. "Yes, sir!" In perfect, silent unison, every single one of them dispersed, melting into the shadows of the ancient trees like ghosts.

  Hao Xua stood alone, the uneasy feeling that had been a quiet whisper in the back of his mind now a roaring premonition. This uneasy feeling, I have no doubts that—

  The world exploded in a flash of smoke and raw, concussive force.

  A fist, brimming with an immense power that vented steam like a piston, slammed into Hao Xua’s chest. He was lifted from his feet, a human cannonball sent hurtling backwards through the air. He crashed into the nearest tree, the thick bark not just cracking but shattering completely in half as his body tore through it.

  "KAHK!"

  He tumbled across the rock-covered ground, a torrent of blood gushing from his mouth to form a rapidly spreading puddle on the forest floor. His hands, trembling and weak, smacked against the surface, his palms mixing with his own blood as he struggled to push himself up. His eyes, burning with a mixture of agony and disbelief, slowly rose to meet the man responsible for the ambush.

  "You caved in," Bi Kan said, his own eyes a terrifying mixture of cold rage and a fierce, almost manic excitement. "I'm so glad you did." He emerged from the smoke of his own attack, his stance low and predatory. He took a slow, deliberate step forward, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper. "You… are in cahoots with the bandits, aren't you?"

  The accusation was a spark in a tinderbox. Hao Xua’s eyes widened erratically. The powerful, searing wound on his chest, the agony that had been a universe of shattered glass just a moment before, was simply… ignored. Nothing was more hurtful, more utterly offensive, than being compared to the lowlife scum he so despised. The ground cracked beneath his feet as he pushed himself into a perfect, unwavering fighting form.

  Bi Kan took a staggered step back, his own breath catching in his throat at the impossible resilience of the man.

  "I don't know what kind of crude technique you just used," Hao Xua groaned, the words a low growl that seemed to come from the very bedrock of the forest, "but even if I'm not properly trained, my way with the blade will be enough."

  The steel glinted, a line of cold, final judgment as it shot through the air, its tip coming to a dead, silent stop, pointed directly at Bi Kan.

  The quiet of the forest shattered. The air, which had been still a moment before, was suddenly filled with a cacophony of thudding boots and the whisper of displaced leaves as a half-dozen cloaked figures erupted from the shadows. Gu Moyu’s hand was already moving, his reaction a fluid, practiced motion born from a dozen desperate battles.

  "Xia! Ma Niu! Now!"

  His hand shot forward, slapping two paper talismans onto his comrades' backs as they sprang into action. A faint yellow glow pulsed through their bodies, a surge of power that made their limbs feel lighter, their movements faster, the world around them seeming to slow for a precious, critical instant.

  "Tch! Tricks won't get you anywhere!" a cloaked swordsman snarled, ignoring the buffed disciples and lunging directly for the source of the problem. His blade was a blur of steel, aimed to cleave Gu Moyu’s head from his shoulders.

  The steel came to a dead, jarring halt. A brilliant glint of gold appeared in an instant, the shaft of Ying Xia's spear intercepting the blow with a deafening CLANG.

  "Your skills with the sword," she declared, her voice ringing with a fierce, contemptuous joy, "are that of an amateur!" The swordsman’s eyes widened as Xia, with a powerful twist of her spear, not only deflected his attack but forced him back a step, her own movements refined and swift.

  "Shit! Damn you!" he cursed, his surprise quickly curdling into rage.

  The other swordsmen, seeing their comrade engaged, focused their collective killing intent on Gu Moyu. "Take him down!" one of them roared, his voice a sharp command. "He has too many talismans! The longer he lives, the harder it is to kill the rest!"

  Gu Moyu was already moving. He threw a talisman, a whirlwind of invisible razors erupting from the paper slip as his Qi activated it. "Damn it!" The sharp wind blades shredded the bandits' cloaks, drawing thin lines of blood across their exposed skin. But one of them, his face a mask of grim determination, pushed through the assault, his own blade flashing as it found its mark, aimed for Gu Moyu’s hand.

  "Got you!"

  As the tip of the blade landed, a shower of yellow crystal shards exploded outwards, another defensive talisman shattering upon impact. "Idiot," Ma Niu’s voice came from the side. He tossed a small, shimmering pill towards Gu Moyu before lunging, his own dagger aimed at the swordsman’s throat, only to be stopped by the parry of another’s steel.

  "Not so fast, disciple bastard!" The new attacker’s blade was a blur, cutting twice across Ma Niu’s chest. The first slash shattered his own defensive aura; the second pierced deep.

  "Kahk!"

  The first swordsman, having recovered from the wind blades, lunged back towards Gu Moyu. "You're done for, brats!" Only for his blade to be stopped by a giant wall erupting, he leapt back, letting out a "Tch!"

  Ma Niu crumbled to his knees, his hand shooting into his robes, his fingers closing around the last, desperate option Si Gun had given them. "Gu Moyu," he gasped, his voice tight with a mixture of pain and a terrifying resolve, "I hope you're right!"

  A blade pierced his chest from behind. The small, crimson pill he had just retrieved popped from his hand. His mouth fell open, but instead of a scream, he grit his teeth. With a final, desperate motion, he caught the falling pill, crushed it between his molars, and swallowed.

  I… can feel it! My power… surging!

  His hand shot out, grabbing the blade that was still buried in his chest. "W-What! Impossible!" the swordsman stammered as Ma Niu, with a guttural roar, pulled himself free. He grinned, a bloody, terrifying expression as he wiped a trickle of crimson from his lips. "Shit, it still hurts, bastard!" With all fear burned away by the forbidden pill’s fire, his hand shot forward, a piston of raw, drug-fueled power that slammed into the cloaked man's gut.

  "So far, so good!" Gu Moyu shouted, biting down on the Qi pill Ma Niu had tossed him, a small but crucial wave of energy washing through his depleted meridians. "Ugh, I've used too much… Qi…"

  One of the remaining swordsmen, seeing his comrades fall into disarray, made a tactical decision. He fled. "You, handle that talisman bastard!" he roared to his last remaining ally, pointing a trembling finger at the exhausted Gu Moyu. "He's at his limit! I'll handle that girl with that guy! I'm sure he can keep that pill-munching beast busy!"

  The swordsman left to face Ma Niu found himself in a desperate, losing battle. "Damn it!" he snarled, dodging another wild, powerful swing. "It's like he doesn't care about the pain!"

  Ying Xia felt a new presence at her side. She blocked a downward slash with the hilt of her spear, her eyes widening as another swordsman joined the first. "I'm this much of a threat?" she thought, a thrill of pure, unadulterated battle lust shooting through her. "Ma Niu has one, Gu Moyu has one, and I get two?!" She grinned, swinging her spear wide to create space before thrusting it forward, her voice a triumphant roar that echoed through the clearing.

  "Watch me, grandpa! This is one small step to my own greatness!"