The hall of the Fading Wind Sect was suffocatingly vibrant. To Zin, the hopeful chatter of the new recruits sounded like the bleating of sheep before a winter slaughter.
He stood among them, his new body frail and pale, eyes as still as a frozen lake. His gaze was fixed on Elder Murong, who sat atop a high dais. To the others, Murong was a living god who had defied time for five hundred years. To Zin, through the interface of the Mirror, the Elder was merely a "ripening fruit" on the verge of rot.
[Target Analysis: Elder Murong]
[Status: Decaying Soul – 3 Years of Lifespan Remaining]
[Aptitude: Heavenly Wind Core (Grade 4)]
[Note: Target is currently seeking a 'vessel' for soul possession.]
"Hypocrisy," Zin thought, a ghost of a cold smile touching his lips. "You seek a body to steal; I seek a talent to mimic. We are the same, Elder, but my tools are sharper."
Suddenly, the world screamed.
A colossal blade of crimson light tore through the ceiling, raining debris and blood upon the disciples. The Blood Shadow Sect had launched their long-awaited ambush. Panic erupted. Limbs flew. The air turned metallic with the scent of gore.
While the masses fled like headless chickens, Zin moved with a terrifying calmness. He slipped through the chaos like a shadow, weaving past whistling blades as if he could see their trajectories written in the air.
He reached the dais. Elder Murong lay there, coughing up golden blood, his chest caved in by the surprise attack. The "god" looked up at the "weak" disciple standing over him and wheezed: "Help me... I will make you... my successor..."
Zin leaned down, whispering in a voice devoid of any warmth:
"The successor dies with you today, Elder. But the Copy... the Copy shall live forever."
Zin pressed his palm firmly against the Elder's forehead. There was no hesitation. No moral conflict. Only the cold hunger of the Mirror.
[Mimicry Override Activated...]
[Extracting: Heavenly Wind Core...]
[Absorbing: Combat Memory Matrix...]
The Elder's scream never left his throat; it was swallowed by the grey glow emanating from Zin's hand. The old man's body shriveled, his skin turning into dry parchment over brittle bone, while Zin felt a frigid, magical surge rewire his very DNA.
[Extraction Successful.]
[Gained: Heavenly Wind Core.]
[Bonus: 120 Years added to Current Lifespan.]
Zin stood up, dusting his tattered robes amidst the corpses. He looked at his hand; the air around his fingers swirled in a perfect, submissive vortex.
The weak boy named Zin died in that dust. The Eternal Usurper was born.
"Step one complete," he murmured, looking toward the bleeding horizon. "Death chases everyone... but I will make it pant for breath as it tries to keep up with me."