Midnight struck like a funeral bell, deep and distant through the pounding rain. The Li Clan's sprawling courtyard, once alive with lanterns and guards, now lay hushed beneath the downpour, as if the entire mountain held its breath.
Inside his chamber, Li Tian sat alone on the polished wooden floor. A single lamp flickered beside him, casting monstrous shadows across the walls. His eyes were half-lidded, but inside, every sense was sharp, coiled tight as a serpent waiting to strike.
Behind the carved folding screen, Xiao Chen knelt. His small frame shivered every time thunder rumbled, but he didn't dare move. Li Tian's last order echoed in his mind: Watch what happens when they come for my life.
The rain masked footsteps — but not to Li Tian. He felt them as pinpricks of killing intent, sliding like icy fingers beneath the door.
Three, he counted silently. No, four.
The handle turned — a faint squeal of iron hinges that vanished into the storm's roar. The first assassin slipped through the door like liquid shadow, black robes clinging to his wiry frame. Another followed. Then two more, knives gleaming with ghostly oil meant to snuff out life in silence.
They paused when they saw him sitting so still. To them, he was a lamb who'd resigned himself to slaughter.
The first assassin stepped forward. He wore no mask, only a strip of cloth hiding his mouth — but his eyes gleamed bright with a predator's certainty.
"Li Tian," he rasped, his voice low and cruel. "You should have died like your father. Quietly. Now —"
He never finished.
Li Tian's hand shot out — a black spark of spiritual energy flaring at his fingertips. The assassin's eyes widened as he raised his blade, but Li Tian's palm landed on his chest before the metal could even catch the lamplight.
Soul-Devouring Palm.
The assassin's body stiffened, back arched in a silent scream. The black energy spread through his robes like ink in water, and then it drained. The man's skin shrivelled, colour draining from his face as his life force tore free, spiralling into Li Tian's waiting hand like black smoke.
Xiao Chen, behind the screen, clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle a scream.
The other assassins froze, terror on faces that had worn only cold confidence seconds before.
Li Tian's eyes burned under the lamplight — deep, bottomless, monstrous. He stood slowly, the dead man crumpling to the floor like an empty sack.
"Come," he whispered. His voice carried through the storm, through the shuddering floor, through Xiao Chen's bones. "Come feed me."
The second assassin lunged, his blade flashing with a desperate arc meant to end it all in a single cut. Li Tian moved like wind through reeds — one step to the side, his hand snapping out to catch the man's wrist.
A twist. A crack. A muffled scream. Then another palm strike — black energy surged again, tearing through flesh and bone and soul. The man's eyes rolled back as his knees buckled, mouth frozen in a soundless plea.
Li Tian exhaled slowly, feeling the power swirl inside him — cold and warm all at once, like drinking the last breath of the dying. The Soul-Devouring Palm pulsed hungrily, carving new veins of dark energy through his meridians.
The final two assassins backed away, eyes wide as they scrambled for the door.
"Stay," Li Tian commanded. His voice was soft, almost gentle — but the word hit them like iron chains.
He flicked his fingers. A gust of force slammed the door shut behind them with a deafening crash. The storm outside screamed against the wooden panels.
"Stay and watch how a traitor's game ends."
The third man bellowed, slashing wildly. But his blade met nothing but empty air. Li Tian was there — then gone — then there again, fingers pressed to the assassin's throat. A single pulse of black light — the man gurgled once, his life ripped from his lungs in an instant.
The last one dropped his blade, falling to his knees.
"Mercy!" he sobbed, forehead pressed to the blood-slicked floor. "Mercy, Young Master! I—I have a family — please—"
Li Tian stared down at him. For a heartbeat, something flickered behind his cold eyes — a memory of his old self, begging on his knees in an empty warehouse, choking on betrayal.
Mercy? The word tasted like ashes in his mouth.
He raised his hand. The final assassin's plea ended in a single, stuttering gasp as his life fled him too — feeding the black hunger that coiled like a serpent in Li Tian's veins.
Silence. Only the rain dared speak now, drumming softly against the roof.
Li Tian stood among the dead, his chest rising and falling with slow, deliberate breaths. His skin prickled with new power — stolen warmth threading through his bones, knitting wounds that hadn't even been made yet.
Behind the folding screen, Xiao Chen could no longer keep silent. He crawled out on shaking hands and knees, face pale as the corpses littering the floor.
"Y-Young Master…" he whispered. His voice cracked. "What… what did you do…?"
Li Tian turned to him, eyes hard, voice low. "I did what they feared I could never do. I took what they would have taken from me."
He stepped closer, kneeling so they were face to face.
"Look at them," he said, gesturing to the withered bodies. "Remember this. A villain does not beg. A villain does not forgive. A villain takes — and leaves nothing for the vultures."
Xiao Chen pressed his forehead to the bloodied floor, tears mixing with the rain that dripped from his hair. "I understand, Young Master… I understand…"
[Subordinate Loyalty: 40% → 60%]
Li Tian stood, rolling his shoulders as the Soul-Devouring Palm's dark warmth settled into his core. Outside, the storm began to break — thunder rolling away into distant mountains.
A soft chime echoed in his mind. The System's voice purred like a cat in his ear.
[Villain Mission Complete: Survive the Assassins.][Reward: +500 Villain Points.][New Mission: Deliver Elder Shen's head to the Council before dawn.]
Li Tian's mouth curved into a thin, merciless smile.
"Xiao Chen," he said, his tone as calm as falling snow. "Fetch a blade. Wake the men loyal to me. Elder Shen has much to answer for tonight."
Xiao Chen rose shakily, blood on his knees, fear in his eyes — but now, behind the fear, a flicker of something stronger. Devotion to the monster he'd chosen to serve.
"Yes, Young Master."
As the first pale light of dawn crept over the drenched courtyard, Li Tian stepped over the corpses and pushed open the door to the rain. In his chest, the stolen warmth of four lives burned like coals in a furnace — the first embers of a fire that would one day set the world alight.