The crimson mist rolled in like a creeping tide, coating the valley in an oppressive red hue. Beneath jagged black peaks, Sky Reaping Valley lay corrupted — a scar upon the land where even moonlight seemed afraid to fall. Rivers flowed backward, and the trees twisted in grotesque silence, as if shrieking in stillness.
Tian stood at the edge of the corrupted territory, the cold wind tugging at his white Heavenly Origin robe. His azure and crimson eyes swept across the broken horizon. Behind him, the others stood alert — Soheon's silver blade drawn, Seryeon's eyes narrowed, Gwanjeong gripping the hilt of his broad sword, Junrok's hybrid weapon humming with faint thunder. The white tiger cub, returned safely, perched on a stone near Tian's feet, ears flattened.
Ok Seryeon: "This is where the sacred beasts went mad… you can still smell the blood."
Yeon Soheon: "No. That's not blood. That's qi… burnt qi."
A few paces behind, the Beast Sect emissaries stood grim-faced. Elder Fang Hu, the tiger-wielding Fang Elder, nodded to Tian.
Fang Hu: "The corruption begins here. What you do next will determine the fate of the surrounding lands. May the spirits walk with you."
Without another word, the disciples of the Heavenly Origin stepped into Sky Reaping Valley.
The Descent
As they entered deeper, illusions began to claw at their senses. Shapes moved at the corners of their vision. Distant voices whispered names of the dead. Even the wind carried memories that weren't theirs.
A burst of rustling to the right.
Yu Gwanjeong (drawing): "We're not alone."
A massive, deformed beast burst from the crimson mist — a sacred white bear now twisted with black veins and jagged horns, eyes glowing with insanity. A corrupted beast guardian.
Seo Junrok: "This one… this was a guardian."
Tian stepped forward, drawing Heaven's Wound — the white sword glinting with frozen light. As the beast lunged, he spun in a wide arc, slicing through the corrupted mist. Ice bloomed from the tip of his blade.
Tian: "Rest."
With a flash of frost, the sword found its mark. The beast let out a sorrowful roar before collapsing in peace — its corrupted body dissolving into a shower of ash and snow.
Behind him, the others remained silent. They could feel it — the deeper they went, the closer they came to the valley's heart… and the monster waiting within it.
The Ambush
They reached a ruined village overtaken by vines and rot. Screams echoed from the underground. Prisoners. Orphans. Taken for experiments.
Then — silence shattered.
Four shadows fell from the cliffs above, cloaked in blood-red robes. The Crimson Reapers.
Ashen Flower (smiling): "Ah… so the lambs walk into the butcher's den."
Burning Fang: "They smell clean. Too clean. Let's fix that."
Severing Wind: "I'll take the fast one."
Scorched Soul (to Tian): "You… you burn differently. I want to taste your scream."
The fog exploded with motion. Gwanjeong clashed with Burning Fang in brutal sweeps. Junrok was forced back by Severing Wind's impossibly fast strikes. Seryeon and Soheon were caught in a dance of shadow and seduction with Ashen Flower.
Tian faced Scorched Soul — a warped man whose body smoldered like coal.
Scorched Soul: "Your flame… it's not from this world."
Tian remained silent. He drew Silent Mourning, the black blade howling softly as if weeping.
Their blades clashed — red flame against void. Tian's red eye flared as he unleashed the Heavenly Origin Sect's technique: Crimson Mirage Form. His movements blurred into afterimages, weaving between the strikes like wind slipping through flame.
But the corruption surged — dark energy reached for his soul.
Scorched Soul laughed.
Scorched Soul: "The valley will take you too!"
Tian's hand reached back… and for the first time in the battle, Heaven's Wound and Silent Mourning moved together — frost and void colliding in a seamless dance. His red eye ignited again, and the air bent.
Tian: "You mistake me for someone fighting to live."
With a double-slash of light and shadow, he severed Scorched Soul's advance — and his corrupted spirit with it.
The Heart of the Valley
Deeper still, they found the altar — a mountain of bones and beast cores surrounding an obsidian gate. Tu Rakjin stood upon it, skin cracked, veins glowing orange, face twisted in desperation.
Tu Rakjin: "I was one of you once… but I saw the truth. We burn to live. You just burn slower."
Bound in chains nearby was a young boy — no older than fifteen — his body resisting the surrounding corruption. His hair glowed faintly with bronze qi, and his presence was… stable.
Tian (quietly): "He's resisting the valley."
As Tu Rakjin summoned the ritual flames, Tian moved — faster than flame, colder than night.
The twin sabers of the Grandmaster met Tian's Silent Mourning and Heaven's Wound.
Tu Rakjin: "You can't stop me. I am the Last Ember!"
Tian: "Then let this be the final ash."
The battle raged, divine fire against forbidden flame. But as the ritual cracked, the valley itself began to crumble.
One by one, the Crimson Reapers fell — each defeated by Tian's companions in duels of skill and soul. As the altar imploded, Tian shielded the orphan boy with a dome of earth and water — and carried him out.
The black mist had begun to clear. The shattered altar bled no more.
What remained was ash.
Tian stood among the smoldering ruins of Sky Reaping Valley, his white robe streaked with blood and soot. Silent Mourning—his master's blade—rested quietly in its sheath, and Heaven's Wound still shimmered faintly from the battle's fury. Around him, the others moved slowly, their silence saying more than words ever could.
Soheon knelt beside him, brushing dust from his arm.
"You're hurt," she said, voice hushed.
"It's nothing," Tian replied, though a faint tremor betrayed him.
She paused, fingers lingering. "Nothing doesn't bleed."
A few paces away, Seryeon stood over the corrupted disciple they had saved—barely more than a boy, his body bearing the taint of the valley's forbidden arts. His breath was shallow, but he lived.
"He was resisting it," she murmured. "Whatever technique they used… it didn't take him."
Gwanjeong leaned against a half-collapsed pillar, his blade still in hand, eyes staring at nothing. Blood dried at the edge of his mouth—some his own, some not.
Junrok, ever silent, stood near the cracked altar. He gazed into the smoke as if waiting for something to rise from it. A thunderstorm swirled in his eyes, not yet ready to break.
The white tiger cub padded up to Tian's feet and sat, eyes locked onto his with unnerving stillness. Then came a low growl—not threatening, but deep. Resonant.
And then the voice.
A whisper, not through sound, but through thought—raw and ancient.
"You walk among mortals… yet the sky remembers your scent."
Tian stiffened. His red eye flared for a moment, and the surrounding air shifted.
Behind him, one of the sacred beasts—a great golden eagle with eyes like burning dawn—stood motionless, feathers rippling though there was no wind. The eagle bowed its head low… in reverence.
The next evening, the Beast Sect was alive with lanterns, firelight, and solemn celebration. A great feast was laid within the Grand Pavilion. Sacred beasts of all shapes lounged in shadows or watched from stone ledges.
Tian and his companions sat before the Fang Elders and the Grand Beast Master himself—a tall man with a mane of grey hair and eyes like a panther's.
He rose and raised a stone cup.
"To those who bled for our future… and to the alliance of the ancient ones," he declared.
The Fang Elders echoed the salute, and all bowed toward Tian.
Later, in private chambers, the Grandmaster sat with Tian beneath a mural of ancient beasts. The rescued disciple, barely awake, lay wrapped in furs beside them.
"He… was always different," the Grandmaster said, voice low. "Resistant to the corruption. We never understood why."
"You don't have to," Tian answered. "Let him be who he is."
The old man nodded. Then his tone shifted.
"I do not know your truth, Tian of the Heavenly Origin… but the beasts do."
He paused. "And they have chosen not to reveal it. That is enough for me."
Tian looked down at the white tiger cub asleep in his lap.
"They should forget it," he murmured.
"Perhaps," the Grandmaster said. "But some truths choose not to be forgotten."
Elder Fang Hu stepped into the chamber then, kneeling before them.
"I will leave at dawn for Longdian," he said. "With the disciple. We will tell your masters of the alliance, and of what was done here."
Night. A silver moon burned through layers of drifting cloud.
Tian stood on a high balcony, robes fluttering. The white tiger cub sat beside him, licking a paw. In the valley below, sacred beasts howled at something unseen.
He stared at his hands. Felt the memory of gold flame still clinging to his skin.
The image had come to him in battle—unbidden.
Golden eyes. Eyes like suns. They had looked through him.
A whisper stirred again in his mind, echoing from the blade sealed away:
"You are not ready."
His grip tightened around Silent Mourning.
"If I was born from a beast," Tian whispered to the wind, "then I will choose what I become."
The white tiger cub growled once… then nuzzled against his leg.
Dawn painted the Beast Sect in hues of blue and gold. Mist hung between the trees like faded breath.
Tian's group stood ready at the edge of the valley. The sacred beasts lined the path—tiger, ape, eagle, serpent—all bowed as they passed.
The rescued disciple approached Tian shyly and handed him a small, hand-carved talisman.
"So you won't forget," the boy said. "The people you save."
Tian took it and nodded. "I won't."
Elder Fang Hu, garbed in dark traveling robes, bowed deeply.
"We go now," he said. "To Longdian. May the heavens honor our bond."
The sacred beasts howled once, then fell silent as Tian and his companions turned south.
They had barely crossed the southern ridgeline when the air changed.
The trees were blackened. Smoke curled from the ground like sighs of the dead.
A grove lay in ruins—burned down to cinders. Bodies of wandering martial artists lay scattered, their weapons melted, their faces twisted in horror.
Soheon bent down, brushing ash from a broken sword.
"There's a mark," she said.
Gwanjeong stepped closer. A strange sigil had been etched into the blade—one none of them recognized.
Junrok pointed to a nearby tree. Letters were carved into the bark.
Charred. Violent.
"The Black Dawn rises. We burn for justice."
Tian stared at the words.
And the wind grew colder.