It was nearing midnight, and the dense black forest that covered almost the entire planet Gloom was steeped almost completely in pure Yin.
In a region north of the planet, outside the domain of the Yinblood Sect, a small area within the forest was the ancestral home of the Blood Tears Fey clan, established there thousands of years ago. At this moment, that entire area was completely surrounded. The two largest clans on the planet had mobilized thousands of Elders and captured almost all members of this small clan.
The clan was organized around an imposing mountain marking the confluence of two rivers. Currently, this majestic mountain was cleaved in half, as if split by a divine blade. In the center of this cleave, a powerful and bloody aura stood out, accompanied by a subtle spatial energy. Anyone who focused on seeing and feeling that place could clearly perceive it.
There, thousands of blood-red chains converged to imprison a single figure. She was a petite woman, standing one and a half meters tall, with a pair of snow-white wings. Her entire body was chained, kneeling, and hundreds of black thorns pierced every inch of her skin. Her blood flowed through her body, and every minute, those thorns seemed to twist and penetrate further, slowly corroding body and soul.
That woman was Idris’s mother, and that method of death was slow and incredibly painful. Yet, she remained kneeling, with a cold and impassive face, without uttering a single sound.
"Add another hundred needles from the underworld!" A dry voice echoed from the skies, and a dozen small figures appeared, sending more needles that pierced her once snow-white skin.
She trembled, her soul feeling as though it was fracturing. The pain was indescribable, but amidst the despair, she lifted her eyes. She saw the runes glowing around her; she knew all her suffering was being recorded.
"You damn mother of that detestable bastard. I want to see how long you can endure; I will slowly break your will. Then your son will feel the same despair he caused to me and my wife, knowing that our daughter was violated and became a slave."
The woman didn’t respond, only taking a deep breath. She already knew that all of this was happening so that her son could witness her suffering. She was certain that her little one would never harm anyone; he was so honest and innocent that even she worried when he tested for the sect. But when she found out he passed a few months ago, her happiness was indescribable.
"Fiby! Accept your death and obey, or our entire clan will be destroyed," a hoarse and desperate voice echoed from the foot of the mountain. It was a Fey with scarlet wings, all red and wounded, bound and surrounded by members of the Feral Fey clan.
"We accepted you into our clan, as the wife of my deceased son. How can you raise my grandson to betray our entire race? Just accept your sins!" roared that poor Fey. But Fiby, Idris’s mother, just sighed.
Something had happened, and now everyone called her son evil, but she trusted him completely. All she wanted was to die to spare her son the pain of seeing her in this situation. However, she was still privileged...
Below the mountain, where her clan used to reside, Fiby felt that the situation of the people was even worse. She couldn’t die, but clan members were being killed periodically, in the worst possible ways, not only the cultivators, but also the weak and defenseless.
The desperate cries of some parents and relatives after losing their loved ones were heartbreaking. Hundreds had died, all in just one day. And it was all being recorded.
People believed out of desperation that if she surrendered, they could resolve the situation. But she knew that those who had reached this heinous point would stop at nothing. They would go all the way, no matter what.
Fiby didn’t belong to the Blood Tears Fey clan; she was just a simple Fey from one of the largest clans in the far north of the planet, called Aurora Fey. She married Idris’s father and moved, being warmly welcomed by that small clan.
When Idris was born, he inherited all the characteristics of his father’s clan. However, due to her bloodline, he struggled to master the techniques of that small clan, which placed him at a lower level of talent and ability within the clan. This was never a problem initially, but when Idris was five years old, his father suddenly died on a mission.
Only after investigating did she discover the truth. He wasn’t killed but committed suicide. The Blood Tears Fey clan was used for assassinations by other clans; her husband had been tasked with assassinating someone not very important, a low-level elder of the Aurora Fey clan... who happened to be her own father.
Fiby found out everything through her father, who revealed her husband’s last words with sorrow: "Sorry, raise our boy to be someone good. Maybe he can change everyone’s fate."
Missions for that small clan of assassins were absolute — they admitted no failures. Either the target died, or the assassin had to die to keep the secret. Her husband, a good man much like their son, chose death upon learning the truth about the target. He couldn’t bear to live with that burden, and his family would be implicated if he fled.
So, he was gone, and Fiby couldn’t return to her original clan with her son. It was a powerful clan that valued only power and talent. A mixed-blood Fey like her son was rejected. Her son lacked the skill to master Aurora Fey techniques, and his talent was limited; she had already abandoned her life as a cultivator.
Her father didn’t have enough influence to change this. She had to raise her son alone in the Blood Tears Fey clan. So Idris grew up, and despite being weak, Fiby managed to protect him from evil and raised a kind and gentle son. But the world was cruel, and despite all her efforts, things ended up like this.
She remained silent, feeling every second of agony drag on. An hour later, there was movement below the mountain. Cultivators from powerful clans were dragging some random people to an open area.
Twenty people were gathered, of different genders and ages. They all had looks of despair but were incapacitated from screaming or fleeing due to a sinister poison they had been given to keep them quiet.
Shortly after, points of light emerged around them. A Fey from the Feral clan waved, and the poison inside these people seemed to ignite. It released their movements while making them feel like they had been plunged into a sea of lava. They were going to die... but it wouldn’t be quick or easy.
Fiby had witnessed these events half a dozen times before; she could only cry and lament. Then old memories surfaced in her mind... she had once been a talented and respected cultivator in the Yinblood sect, even becoming a Grey Disciple at a young age. But despite life seeming exceptional to outsiders, she lived immersed in blood and sorrow.
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Everything changed when she met that Fey with scarlet wings. She felt she could live away from it all, and just let herself go. ’But why did things have to end like this? Was it because I chose to believe in kindness?’
Fiby reflected, hearing the distant cries of agony, tears of blood streaming from her eyes.
An answer became clear, and her mind was haunted by guilt. She had always been superior to her own husband, but chose to leave everything on his shoulders, allowing herself to be protected.
She had always been taught that, upon marriage, she would live happily and protected... First he died, then everything around her collapsed... And her son would hardly survive much longer. Now reflecting, she was sure. If she had continued to cultivate and become powerful, she could have taken her husband back to his clan, taking the weight off his shoulders. She chose to leave everything to him, but if they had both shared the burden of protecting the family...
’I had the talent and ability to protect my family alongside him... But I chose to abandon everything, and he was too good to put me in my place... I was spoiled, but he still loved me...’ She reflected in despair.
’The heavens do not forgive the weak. Life is a jungle, and everyone must fight to protect their own. Those born with talent must use it in the best way, as the path is clear ahead of them. Those born with nothing must fight to change their fate, opening paths unexplored by others.’ An external voice echoed in her mind, causing her to freeze. ’The heavens are fair in their own way, despite appearances. But those who only bow their heads and hope fate will be kind to them are destined to fail.’
At that moment, Fiby raised her eyes and felt warmth coursing through her body, all the black needles loosening from her. She turned and saw a colossal figure, round like an ogre, looking at her expressionlessly. She belatedly realized that the screams from the ground had also ceased.
The figure looked at her and murmured, "Of course, there’s always the option to kneel and pray. Since you’re there, why not?"