The courtyard was silent. Broken mud, shattered stones, and the echo of yesterday's chaos lay everywhere. Lin Yuan's crimson aura pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat.
The disciples had fled in terror, but one figure remained Zhao Chen.
"Lin Yuan… you dare?" Zhao Chen spat, trying to hide the tremor in his voice. "You're broken! Nothing left of you!"
Lin Yuan tilted his head, eyes glowing red. He didn't speak. His hands moved slightly, and the air around them warped,
curling like smoke. The ground cracked underfoot. The disciples who had dared to return froze, sensing the power that filled him.
"I'm no longer the Lin Yuan you knew," he said softly. His voice was calm, yet every word carried an invisible weight, cold and heavy.
Zhao Chen took a step back, but it was too late. Lin Yuan's aura flared, crimson energy ripping through the courtyard.
Stones shattered.
Mud sprayed like blood. Zhao Chen screamed as his dantian shook violently under the pressure.
Fear coursed through the air. Lin Yuan breathed it in, savoring the taste.
Delicious. Every heartbeat, every tremble of terror, strengthened him.
His veins throbbed, his body alive with raw power.
"Power… is not given. It is taken."
With a thought, Lin Yuan unleashed the first technique of the Blood Demon Scripture. A crimson cage of energy wrapped around Zhao Chen, constricting, devouring his strength.
His cultivation base shattered in agonizing screams. Blood sprayed, and Lin Yuan let it flow into his hands.
Every drop fueled him, reshaping his body, sharpening his senses.
When the red mist cleared, Zhao Chen lay trembling on the ground alive, but broken beyond repair. Lin Yuan's eyes gleamed scarlet.
"Remember this," he said softly, voice like ice, "I will take everything from those who oppose me."