The wind rose without warning.
Just moments ago, the village square had been warm and lively, filled with the laughter of children running around. Now, it was drowned in a deathly silence. Bodies lay scattered. The scent of blood thickened the air. Half-collapsed houses smoked in the distance.
The village chief, who had rushed over... saw the scene and froze. Shock. His gaze empty.
— I protected nothing...
His fists clenched. The silence weighed heavier than screams.
A few meters ahead, a lone figure stood draped in a black robe. He moved soundlessly, yet with each step, the ground seemed to recede beneath him.
The village chief frowned. Beside him, Old Chen turned pale.
"Qi Condensation... eighth? No... ninth level?" Old Chen whispered.
The figure stopped. Then slowly lifted his head. His gaze was cold as ice — as if none of this meant anything to him.
He raised a hand. A black ripple spread outward, lifting a curtain of dust.
Old Chen stepped back.
— Chief...
— Fall back, the chief snapped. Find survivors. Protect them.
No more words. No hesitation.
Old Chen nodded, clenched his teeth, then turned and ran.
---
A little further away, in a narrow alley
Hei Tian crouched against a stone wall, holding his breath. Beside him, Yun Lue was trembling.
— Do you think he's... really an enemy?
She was watching the smoke in the distance, brows furrowed.
— I don't know, Hei Tian replied. But his tone had lost its usual lightness. He was listening to the silence, to the faint trembling of the earth.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps.
— Hei Tian! Yun Lue!
Old Chen appeared in the alley, panting.
— You can't stay here. Come with me, quickly.
Yun Lue's eyes widened.
— What about my parents? I have to—
— They're not coming back, said Old Chen.
The sentence cracked like a whip.
Yun Lue froze.
— No... no, that's not possible...
Her legs gave out. She wanted to run, to scream. But Old Chen grabbed her by the shoulders.
— Listen to me. It's too late. You have to live. Understand? Live.
She shook her head. The tears came all at once, harsh and uncontrollable.
Hei Tian stepped forward gently. He laid a hand on her arm.
— We'll go together. You're not alone.
And the trio fled.
Behind them, the village square shook with every blow. The fight was no longer a fight — it was a display of dominance. The village chief fought with every ounce of strength, every bit of essence he had cultivated. Each strike sent out shockwaves. But the enemy...
The enemy only walked. And struck.
One palm.
One wave of black Qi.
And the chief's sword shattered to pieces.
The village chief's saber shattered cleanly.
A shard flew, bounced on the ground… then nothing. No sound, no breath.
The chief staggered and took two steps back. His right arm hung limply, injured by the shock.
In front of him, the Devil Cultivator slowly lowered his palm, like a judge delivering a verdict.
"You… you're from outside," the chief murmured, spitting a trail of blood. "But why? Why a village like ours?"
The cultivator said nothing. He kept walking, his black Qi rippling through the air like living serpents—skimming the ground, crawling up the walls, devouring color.
Then, the village chief did what he knew would be his final act. He rooted his feet into the earth, gathered the last of his Qi, and made a swift hand sign.
A talisman lit up on his chest.
"If I must fall… then may your mark burn with me."
Golden light burst from his hands. An ancient sealing technique. Not to kill, but to brand. Yet the Devil Cultivator raised his hand—and the gold was swallowed by the darkness.
The chief didn't even have time to step back. An invisible wave pierced his chest, and his body crumpled silently.
In the village alleys
The shock had reached the very earth. Yun Lue stumbled. Hei Tian caught her.
Old Chen stopped at the corner of a house, panting.
"…He's fallen," he said. "The chief has fallen."
The silence that followed was crushing. As if everything they had known so far had just collapsed.
Hei Tian felt something crack inside him. A raw truth: this world was not fair, and it didn't wait for you to be ready.
"This way," whispered Old Chen, eyes red. "There may still be survivors. Or an open road."
They ran. Two children and an old man. The Qi around the village had grown unstable, saturated. Hei Tian, for the first time, felt it against his skin like a burning shiver. As if something within him was responding.
They found a woman, wounded, holding her son in her arms. She could no longer walk.
"Take my child…" she whispered. "Please…"
Yun Lue rushed forward, eyes filled with tears. Old Chen took the child in his arms.
Then—a howl. The black Qi was approaching.
"We must go through the forest!"
"There's a path to the east," Hei Tian said suddenly. "The one we sometimes use to gather herbs."
"Yes!" shouted Old Chen. "That way, quickly!"
They ran, fleeing the heart of the darkness. Yun Lue held the little boy's hand. Hei Tian led the way. Old Chen followed behind, a dagger in hand, just in case.
When they reached the edge of the forest, they looked back one last time.
The village was burning.
The sky was red.
"One day, I'll return," Hei Tian murmured without realizing. "And it won't be me who runs."
---