The heavy iron doors of the Crimson Clan's main gathering hall slammed shut, the resounding thud echoing like a death knell through the cavernous room.
For the past month, a suffocating shadow had hung over the estate. At first, it had been whispered rumors—servants murmuring in the dark about missing children from the lower branch families. But within weeks, the rumors had solidified into a horrifying reality. Small, lifeless bodies were being discovered dumped along the outer roads leading to the clan grounds. The corpses were a grotesque sight—entirely shriveled, skin clinging tightly to bone as if every drop of life force and bloodline vitality had been violently drained. Someone—or something—was harvesting their essence.
Today, the crisis had breached the clan's inner sanctum. A child of the direct bloodline had disappeared.
"Silence!" the First Elder shouted.
Commander Meng, Captain of the Clan Guard, stopped speaking, his voice tight with suppressed panic. Standing at the center of the hall, he bowed deeply toward the long, polished crescent table where the council of elders sat.
Noticeably absent were Clan Leader Wang Yun and Madam Xinyi. Wang Yun was traveling across the empire to secure cultivation resources and prepare for the upcoming Grand Tournament, while Madam Xinyi was away seeking an opportunity for her own progression. In their absence, no one was present to represent the head family, leaving the heavy responsibility entirely on the council of elders. The air in the room was so thick with spiritual pressure and unbridled anger that the younger guards stationed at the doors could barely breathe.
"Continue, Commander," the Second Elder ordered, his brow furrowed deep. "The estate's defensive arrays are fully active. How could a child disappear from right under your nose without forcing an entry?"
"Elders, we have searched the entire perimeter," Commander Meng said, sweat dripping down his temples. "There are no signs of forced breach. The perpetrator leaves absolutely no spiritual signature behind, as if melting straight into the shadows. However, according to my investigation, none of the primary branch children are missing."
"Then how did you learn of an intruder within the estate?" asked by Elder Mu Ziyan, the clan's chief alchemist.
"A servant reported it," Meng replied instantly. "She spotted a figure in a black robe—matching the descriptions from the lower branch kidnappings. This morning's victim was found in the eastern forest. Like the others, his Dantian was completely ruptured, his core drained of all blood essence."
The elders exchanged dark, uneasy looks.
"To harvest vitality in such a manner... this is the work of a demonic or blood cultivators doing," one elder muttered. "To think this has been happening under our very noses!"
The Third Elder slammed his fist onto the table, cracking the heavy wood. "They are using our children as human cauldrons to break through their own bottlenecks! If we do not catch these bastards soon, the entire foundation of the Crimson Clan will crumble before the Grand Tournament!"
"But who is their true target within the inner estate?" another elder from the Artifact Hall muttered, rubbing his temples. "They started with the weaker branch families, but now they are getting bolder. They are actively hunting pure Wang blood."
While the council debated frantically to piece together a defense plan, Fourth Elder Wang Gu sat quietly near the edge of the table. He remained uncharacteristically silent, arms crossed, eyes closed. He was still secretly brooding over the shame his grandson, Wang Zhi, had brought upon him weeks ago. Because of the Chief Martial Instructor's decree and clan law, Zhi was currently locked away in the Ancestral Reflection Chamber, his Qi completely sealed.
The brat is safe inside the core temple, Wang Gu thought to himself, taking a quiet breath of comfort amidst the rising chaos. The Reflection Chamber is guarded by ancient arrays. No intruder could ever—
Suddenly, Wang Gu's train of thought violently shattered.
Deep within the layers of his heavy silk robes, a sharp, searing heat flared against his chest. His eyes snapped open, his pupils dilating in sudden horror. Reaching into his robes with a trembling hand, he pulled out a small, intricately carved jade artifact.
It was a Life-Binding Communication Pendant.
Wang Gu had secretly placed the matching half inside Wang Zhi's robes. It was a high-grade treasure, designed to pulse with crimson light and fracture only when the wearer's life was in immediate, mortal danger.
Crack.
Before the eyes of the entire council, the jade pendant in the Fourth Elder's hand split down the center. A bright, bloody red glow erupted from the fracture, illuminating his pale face.
The Ancestral Reflection Chamber had been breached.
Wang Gu's mind went blank. Wang Zhi's Qi was entirely sealed by the Instructor's technique; without spiritual energy, the boy was no stronger than an ordinary mortal child. He was completely defenseless.
"Zhi'er..." Wang Gu gasped, his voice cracking.
In the next instant, the absolute silence of shock was replaced by a terrifying explosion of spiritual power. The Fourth Elder roared—a sound of pure, unadulterated fury that shook the very foundations of the gathering hall. The stone tiles beneath his chair shattered into dust as his Qi erupted like a dormant volcano.
"They took him!" Wang Gu screamed, his eyes completely bloodshot as he stared at the cracked jade. "Those bastards took my grandson!"
"What? Impossible!" the Chief Instructor blurted out. "Your grandson is in the Ancestral Reflection Chamber. It's impossible for intruders to reach him there!"
"Gu, you must calm down," the Second Elder urged. "It might not be an intruder. He could be suffering from a heart sin— in the chamber."
Wang Gu gritted his teeth, his jaw clenching tightly. Without wasting another breath on words, he blasted upward, shattering the chamber ceiling.
BOOM!
An explosive shockwave cracked the stone walls of the gathering hall as Wang Gu levitated into the open sky, his face a mask of rage. Floating high above the courtyard, his eyes priced throw something. Then he bit his thumb and dropped a single drop of his concentrated ancestral essence blood onto the broken life-binding pendant.
Channeling his raw Qi into the artifact, the fractured stone vibrated violently with a deep vmmm. The essence blood bound the pieces back together, miraculously reforging the pendant in his palm. The moment the magic sealed, the pendant spun like a compass needle, locking directly onto his grandson's spiritual frequency toward the distant, jagged borders of the estate.
Wang Gu shot forward through the air, tearing through the clouds like a meteor.
Meanwhile, deep within the dark forest near Village No. 50 in the Mamaya region, a sinister operation was underway.
The thick canopy of trees completely blocked out the moonlight, leaving the clearing in eerie shadow. Thirty cloaked figures moved silently through the undergrowth, while four elite guards held the outer perimeter, weapons drawn as they scanned the darkness.
Bound to a thick, gnarled tree at the center of the camp was Wang Zhi. His robes were torn, and with his Qi sealed, he was entirely defenseless, shivering against the rough bark.
One of the band's leaders stepped forward from the shadows. His face was a horrifying mask of jagged battle scars, one eye completely milky white and blind. Drawing a razor-sharp short dagger, he pressed the cold flat of the blade against Wang Zhi's trembling cheek.
"A pure Crimson Clan bloodline," the scarred leader hissed, a raspy chuckle escaping his throat. "Hehehe... look at you. So fragile without your precious clan protection."
He leaned in closer, the stench of stale blood on his breath making Wang Zhi gag. "Do you know what going to happen next, boy? We are going to slowly carve into your chest, draw out every single drop of your blood essence, and deliver it to that person. You are nothing but a stepping stone for their ascension."
"P-please..." Wang Zhi stammered, tears of terror welling in his eyes. His former arrogance had completely dissolved into pathetic whimpers. "My grandfather is a Foundation Establishment cultivator! He will find you! He will slaughter all of you!"
"Oh, I'm so terrified. Heheh..." The scarred leader sneered. Suddenly, his laughter cut short. He glided behind Wang Zhi, leaning close to his ear to whisper, "Let him try."
He raised the dagger, the cold steel catching the dim campfire light.
"Enough. Stop talking," a harsh, commanding voice barked from the shadows.
Two other figures stepped forward from the treeline. One wore a glowing artifact eyeloop over his left socket; the other wore a short, curved-blade pendant. Their expressions were extremely tense.
"The person emissaries are here. Keep your mouth shut."
The scarred leader froze, his smug grin vanishing as he instantly lowered his blade.
Wang Zhi's tear-blurred eyes darted toward the edge of the clearing as two tall, imposing figures stepped into the dim light. The thirty surrounding cultists immediately scrambled backward, clearing a wide path.
As the newcomers approached, the flickering firelight caught the distinct silver embroidery on their dark robes—a terrifying emblem depicting a crescent moon cradling a dark, swirling vortex. They radiated a chilling, oppressive spiritual pressure.
Cultivators from the dreaded Netherworld Sect.
"Hmm. A pure blood," one of the emissaries muttered, his erratic voice carrying the unsettling edge of a madman.
With a sudden burst of speed, he closed the distance instantly, appearing right behind Wang Zhi like a ghost. Reaching into his dark robes, he produced a blood-detection artifact. At its center rested a glass container shaped like a human eye. Its surface was clear as polished crystal, but within it churned a sea of volatile crimson light. Streams of blood-red energy twisted and coiled like tiny dragons around a radiant Ancestral Blood Orb.
"Ren," the second emissary cautioned from behind, his voice deep and measured. "Be careful with that artifact. You know it is not a toy."
"Tch. Mind your own business, Tao," Ren dismissed with a wave of his hand.
With a flick of his wrist, Ren guided a silver pin with a sliver of Qi, piercing Wang Zhi's right thumb. "Ahhh! Zhi scream in pain, but Ren was not interested in him. A heavy droplet of crimson blood welled up from Zhi thumb. Ren swiftly slid the eye-shaped artifact beneath the falling drop.
The blood struck the orb. At first, nothing happened. The forest remained deathly silent.
"Tch. Is this thing broken?" Ren muttered, shaking the artifact in frustration. "Huh?"
"You always rush things," Tao sighed, stepping forward with a scowl.
The moment the words left Tao's mouth—
SHWAP! VMMM!
A blinding crimson light exploded from the artifact, blooming outward like a massive, blood-red sunflower. Each layer of expanding light-petals was laced with dense, pulsing veins of raw energy. The sheer force of the bloodline resonance sent a violent shockwave ripping through the clearing.
Sensing the sudden burst of energy, Ren and Tao simultaneously leapt backward, their dark robes billowing as they cleared the blast radius.
"Hmm. Impressive," Tao murmured, brushing a speck of ash from his sleeve. He stared at the fading crimson glow, his eyes widening in dark satisfaction. "His bloodline density is over fifty percent pure. Excellent. Send word back to the elders. Tell them we have secured the final piece."
Later the next day.
Deep within a subterranean cavern beneath a jagged mountain peak, the local branch of the Netherworld Sect breathed foul, suffocating air. The entrance to their hidden base was a nightmare manifest—a massive pile of rotting corpses stacked outside the front gates, flies buzzing over the stolen remnants of shattered cultivators.
"Ahhh! Please, don't use me as a sacrifice! I have an old mother and father... they are waiting for me!" a young captive wept hysterically as he was dragged across the damp stone floor. His fingernails scraped against the rock, leaving bloody streaks as guards pulled him toward the pile of dead.
"Hahaha! Shut your mouth!" a guard brayed, kicking the youth square in the ribs. "You can pay for your sins in hell!"
The heavy iron gates groaned as a senior sect figure walked into the inner courtyard, where the air was thick with burning incense and stale blood.
Sitting atop a makeshift throne crafted from five freshly slain corpses was a withered, elderly cultivator. His eyes were hollow, his skin like dried parchment. Kneeling at his feet were three young women, pale with terror, wearing elegant dresses that looked entirely out of place in the grim cavern.
"Ah, ladies... I fully intended to slaughter you along with your kin," the elder purred, reaching down to trace a bony finger along the jawline of the closest girl. She trembled violently but didn't dare pull away. "But since you look so pleasantly compliant in those fine dresses... I may spare your miserable lives. Come now. Serve me well, and I might just change my mind."
Two of the women hesitantly stepped up onto the throne of corpses, sitting beside the old man with shaking hands as they poured spiritual wine into his chalice.
"Yes... I think I shall keep you as my personal concubines," the elder chuckled, his raspy voice echoing off the cavern walls.
SCREECH!
Suddenly, a dark-feathered messenger bird descended from the cavern ceiling, holding a sealed jade scroll in its talons. The bird let out a piercing cry, triggering the protective runes around the throne with a bright flash.
"Ah, it has arrived," the elder murmured.
He unrolled the scroll, his eyes flaring with demonic light as a sinister, twisted smile stretched across his weathered face.
"They have secured the boy. The ritual can finally begin."