Chapter 98: Heaven's Chosen
The scene unfolding before him made Yao Shens stomach churn. The acrid scent of charred timber emanating from what remained of the humble wooden huts mingled in with the scent of coagulating blood, resulting in a nauseating melange whose impact was only accentuated by the panicked, terror-stricken screams and desperate cries for help that echoed out in the mortals dying throes.
A knee-deep formation had been dug around the village and Yao Shen only a single glance to identify it as a taboo blood formation. It would be surprising if a group of Foundation Establishment cultivators were able to lay down a formation that incorporated Greater Runescript on its own, but Yao Shen knew that there was little skill involved in the parasitic mockery of a Formation.
His gaze flickered over to the center of a formation, where a young foundation establishment disciple dressed in ostentatious red and gold robes watched the proceedings with a gleeful expression on his visage.
That solidified Yao Shens conjecture. The blood sacrifice formation was likely in a misguided attempt to accelerate the cultivators cultivation base and Yao Shen would not be surprised if it allowed him to directly reach the Nascent Soul rank.
Naturally, there were caveats to the formation ones that the Foundation Establishment disciple was likely grossly unaware of. Even if the formation was to succeed in its intended purpose, the resultant cultivation base would be so unstable that Yao Shen doubted that he would live past the next forty eight hours.
Such was the hallmark of the Demonic Path a complete lack of loyalty to others and their own.
As gruesome as the scene was though, it was not what had truly shocked him.
Impossible was a word seldom used by cultivators. The more bizarre an occurrence, the likelier it was to be deception that lacked any real substance. Displays of vast power could be attributed to encountering a cultivator that was simply more powerful than you and many cultivators even spend years trying to decipher famed inheritances and certain techniques that were only passed down from one generation to the next in a Legacy Family, like the Amadori Clans clandestine methods.
To deem something impossible was to admit that one was incapable of replicating such a feat.
Yet, that was exactly what Yao Shen had been forced to do, as he noticed an anomaly far beyond his anticipation.
A splotch of darkness in a tableau of red and gray was not the trap he had been wary of. No, even Meili Zhu would not go this far if she wanted to assassinate him. Neither was it a strong Demonic Cultivator sent to oversee the proceedings, perhaps use it to his own advantage before it reached completion.
No, the truth was far more preposterous.
A young mortal girl stood before a splintered wooden hut, a large boulder that still emanated traces of Earth Qi weighing down upon it. Its thatched roof was reduced to scattered stalks of straw, most dyed in a viscous red.
The girls pristine white hair remained unmarred by the chaos around her, but the same could not be said about her captivating violet eyes. Bloodshot and tear-filled, the girl cried and screamed, screamed and cried.
Yet no sound escaped her.
Yao Shen only detected the weak pulse of a newly awakened Qi-Formation Cultivator from the young girl, so he searched for the Demon who was smothering the girl with the Minor Dao of Shadow.
A Demonic Path cultivator, a male of average build and short-cropped hair, walked past the young girl with a bloodied saber in his right hand, almost as if he was unaware of her presence.
Even he had failed to detect the girl through his keen sight alone, his Divine Sense having revealed her surreptitious presence.
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A few precious seconds ticked away before Yao Shen came to a terrifying conclusion.
A line of thought that was too absurd to even entertain.
Yet as a second Demonic Cultivator flew over the young girl completely unbeknownst to her presence, he could not help but admit that the shadows were not smothering her as he had initially expected them to.
Or rather, his Divine Sense could not sense a single entity powerful enough to accomplish such a feat in his vicinity.
The shadows were protecting the young girl.
Her screams, likely loud and shrill, could not bypass the cloak of shadows that was encircling her.
Her tears, the sound of her breathing, her footsteps as she yearningly, tragically took a step forward, could not escape the perfect concealment of the shadows isolation.
It was only the trembling of his hands that snapped him out of his reverie.
No longer did he concern himself with the possibility of a trap in the form of a third-party capable of both casting the shadows and evading his detection ambushing him.
The young girls anguish, her soundless cries, were too much for him to bear any longer.
He exploded in a burst of motion, the tips of his fingers igniting into radiant hot flames. Yao Shen did not even bother to unsheathe his sword as he chopped outward with his right hand.
The severed head of the Foundation Establishment Cultivator that was the likely mastermind of the incursion went flying into the distance, but Yao Shen did not halt his attack for even a second.
On that day, the dignity of a righteous path cultivator was forgotten. Yao Shen fought like a spiritual beast king, pure instinct driving his desire to hunt offering the Demons a far more painless death than they perhaps deserved.
It did not take him any longer than a minute to liberate the Demonic Path Incursion.
Unfortunately.
A single sweep of his Divine Sense told him what he had already suspected.
Not a single mortal had survived.
However, one cultivator had.
Yao Shens steps echoed out in the stillness of the desecrated village, the fires already put out with a liberal use of his Minor Dao of Water.
The young girl was too engulfed in her grief to notice him, not up until he had come to a stop right before her.
Yao Shen realized that he was at a loss for words as he gazed into the girls purple eyes, only for her to sobbingly meet her gaze.
The cultivator that had struggled his entire life against the talentless fate the heavens had ordained for him came face to face with Heavens Chosen Daughter, the Qi Formation cultivator that had subconsciously called upon Shadow Qi profound enough to trick the sight of a Nascent Soul Cultivator.
Are they gone? The young girl voiced the question, the intelligence visible even in her swollen red eyes. She should have been too young to fully understand the concept of death, yet Yao Shen knew exactly what she was asking of him
The bad men are gone. Forever, Yao Shens tone carried an unmistakable tang of finality.
The young girl nodded and the final bit of strength that she was so desperately clinging onto left her.
Before she could hit the ground though, Yao Shen caught her as gently as he possibly could.
Once his divine sense confirmed that truly no threat remained, he sat down cross-legged on the ground, with the young girl held firmly in his arms.
An hour passed by him as the girl slept while Yao Shen simply sat there in silence.
I should feel bitter, Yao Shen began, as his gaze turned skyward. You give to her what I spent a lifetime chasing. Such strength such profound skill at such a young age. You make a mockery of all that I stand for. Ill admit it, Yao Shen had a flabbergasted smile on his face. I was afraid when I realized it. What would she be capable of if she was given time and guidance to grow, if she reached my level?
He shook his head.
And then you give her a fate so cruel, so brutally unnecessary, Yao Shens tone rose by an octave as the raw hatred he felt for the demonic path leaked into his tone. Do you want her to be dyed in the cruelty of this world? If so,
Yao Shen flicked his right finger, drawing a line across his left wrist. The stream of blood that flowed outwards was directed towards a purpose, as he ran it across his forehead, painting it in a viscous red.
I swear upon the heavenly dao, upon my own dao and my pride as a cultivator. No one will be allowed to harm this child until I still walk this wretched realm. No one.
A pact was forged.
One that was yet to be broken, half a century later.
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