Chapter: Bloom of the Black Lotus
The field, once a place of challenge, had become a valley of judgment.
Silk danced in the air, shimmering crimson under the dying light of the sun. Corpses littered the ground like offerings, their final expressions frozen in horror, awe, or disbelief. And at the center of it all, barefoot on bloodied soil, Yan Xue stood unbroken, his lotus blade humming softly.
The longer he fought, the stronger he became.
Each enemy struck down, each voice silenced, seemed to feed something inside him—not bloodlust, but clarity. The spiritual threads of the Silk Lotus Sect coiled tighter around his core, and his cultivation surged like a tide. His breath exhaled lotus-shaped wisps of Qi. His skin shimmered with the radiance of dual-formed yin-yang unity.
Then a soft cry rose from the back of the crowd.
"Xiao Xue... son."
He turned slowly.
A pair of elderly figures stumbled into the open, robes tattered from flight.
His mother. His father.
"My child," his mother said, her voice cracking, "what have you become? This isn't the son we raised."
His father stepped forward. "We were strict and heartless… yes. But only because we saw your potential stagnate. Don't throw away your heritage. Come back with us. We'll start over. Help rebuild the sect."
"You'll be revered, not laughed at," his mother added. "Not a pet to some demonic master."
Yan Xue said nothing.
More figures emerged. The former Tianyu elders, his ex-master—a tall man in pale blue robes—and several of his junior brothers and sisters. Their eyes were uncertain, their faces heavy with a mix of guilt and desperation.
"Yan Xue! We wronged you," his old master called. "But we can make it right. You can return. Lead us. You have surpassed us all. Let your path be one of redemption."
A girl—his youngest junior sister, who used to sneak him sweets, when he was still the radiant 1st disciple—stepped forward. "Senior Brother... I still remember when you saved me from the storm beast. Please, Don't become a monster."
Then silence.
Yan Xue stared at them.
Then he began to laugh.
It started small. A delicate chuckle, like wind over a pond.
Then it built.
Cruel, sharp, beautiful in its disdain.
"Revered?" he echoed.
"To be revered... by those who threw me to the dogs? Who watched me rot in shame while whispering of my weakness?"
He took a step forward.
"You ask me to abandon my master. My husband. My god."
His eyes burned.
"To forsake the only one who ever saw me—truly saw me—not as a tool, not as a burden... but as a beloved."
His voice rose.
"And what do you offer in return? A title? An empty seat in a broken sect that betrayed its own?"
The elders shrank back.
"You insult my path. My form. His love. His truth."
His lotus blade shimmered. The petals at his feet lifted into the air.
"There is no redemption. There is only judgment."
Before any of them could move, he struck.
He moved like the wind reborn in silk. Threads of crimson light erupted from his sleeves, each one imbued with killing intent.
His father tried to summon a shield.
It cracked under a single blow.
His mother screamed.
His blade found her throat.
One by one, he cut them down.
The old master—his Qi trembled as Yan Xue delivered a single spiral slash through his core, shattering his cultivation.
His junior siblings wept as they fell.
No mercy. No pause. Only the cold, exacting violence of betrayed love.
When it was over, the battlefield was silent again.
Until two figures descended.
Auras so vast they made the skies tremble.
The Sect Leader of the Tianyu Sect, robed in pale jade, face like stone. And beside him, the Matron of the Life Sect, eyes aglow with violet fire.
"You have killed enough," the Matron said. "This cannot go unanswered."
The Tianyu Leader raised his hand. "Your crimes will echo across the realms, Yan Xue. You bring disgrace to cultivation itself."
Yan Xue raised his head.
"No," he said softly.
"I bring truth. The declaration of lord Heavenly Demon himself"
The two sect leaders launched themselves forward.
And the final battle began.
The sky cracked as their Qi collided, forming whirlwinds of power that bent trees and shook mountains. The Life Sect Matron summoned serpents of light and chains of karmic law. The Tianyu Lord wielded a sword of heavenly jade, each strike a thunderclap of judgment.
Yan Xue met them both.
At first, he was pushed back. It seemed he had been finally outmatched.
But then, something changed.
His lotus blade moved in arcs of elegance, countering steel with silk, venom with velvet wrath. He spun in midair, weaving his blade with spirals of Qi, creating floating sigils that exploded upon contact.
"He's keeping up with both of us," the Matron growled.
"No," the Tianyu Lord replied, sweating. "He's growing."
And it was true.
The more they struck, the more Yan Xue adapted. His movements grew tighter, his Qi denser. Crimson petals rained around him as he channeled a new form:
Silk Lotus Style: Crimson Bloom Ascension.
A crown of petals formed behind his head.
He unleashed a wave of Qi that sent both sect leaders flying. Their shields cracked, bones trembled.
He landed before them.
Blood dripped from his blade.
"The Silk Lotus does not forgive. It only blooms where blood has been spilled."
He raised his hand.
The sky turned red.
And the petals began to fall again.
The battlefield was silent.
Not with the quiet of peace, but the silence of absence.
Blood soaked the cracked earth. Torn banners lay tangled in severed limbs. Burnt talismans fluttered in the air like the ashes of forgotten prayers. And in the very center of the field where Yan Xue had made his final stand, there was only one thing left:
A pool of blood.
And in that pool, a single, large black lotus slowly bloomed.
Its petals unfolded one by one—impossibly wide, impossibly dark—each one glistening with crimson dew. The lotus pulsed faintly with Qi not of this realm. It glowed, not with light, but with presence. As if the world had shifted.
The air around it grew still, reverent.
The sects were gone. The disciples gone. The elders gone.
The Tianyu Realm was silent. Empty. Defeated.
Far above the battlefield, through a rift in space that shimmered like silk pulled taut, a portal floated open.
From within stepped a figure robed in robes of flowing crimson and starlight.
The Heavenly Demon.
His eyes were half-lidded, his features soft, cruel, serene. He descended slowly, feet never touching the ground, until he stood just before the black lotus.
And waiting there, blade sheathed and head bowed, was Yan Xue.
Blood still clung to his hair, his silks torn in places, but his presence was divine. His body glowed with the fullness of cultivation, his aura enveloped in a mist of silk Qi.
The Heavenly Demon smiled.
"You've done beautifully, my flower."
Yan Xue lifted his gaze.
His voice was soft, trembling with something between exhaustion and awe.
"I bloomed for you, my lord."
The Heavenly Demon stepped forward and cupped his chin.
"No. You bloomed because of me. And now, the world shall know the scent of your wrath."
He kissed Yan Xue's forehead.
Then turned to the battlefield.
He raised a single hand.
Silken threads emerged from the air itself, weaving into a grand archway of crimson light. A portal—not shimmering like others, but velvet dark, laced with lotus symbols.
"It is time to go home, beloved."
Yan Xue stepped beside him, and together, they walked through the gateway.
Behind them, the black lotus pulsed.
And then began to grow.
Its roots slithered beneath the soil. Petals stretched outward like wings. And at its center, a radiant sigil appeared:
The Insignia of the Silk Lotus Sect.
From that moment on, across the upper realms and beyond, those attuned to Qi felt it:
A new force had awakened.
A sect born not of tradition, but of revolution.
A sect built not on mercy, not on ruthlessness,but on love sharpened into blades.
The Silk Lotus Sect had emerged.
And it would bloom forever in blood and beauty.