Yan Shiluo finished speaking. His words settled into the air like invisible threads, waiting to tighten around whoever stepped carelessly.
Mo Tianxing did not reply immediately.
He stood still, hands folded behind his back, gaze steady.
"A five-year truce hm?" the emperor repeated at last. "Shared access to spirit veins. Withdrawal of your forces."
Yan Shiluo inclined his head. "Correct."
Lian Yue's eyes flickered. Spirit veins were the lifeblood of any cultivation sect or kingdom. To share them was to share strength. To share strength was to invite future danger.
Huo Zhen stepped forward. "Your Majesty, such an agreement-"
Mo Tianxing raised a hand. Silence fell.
The emperor's eyes glowed faintly gold, reflecting torchlight and moonlight alike. "Sect Master Yan, you speak of peace. Yet your men arrive armed, your qi concealed, your formation ready for combat. Do you take me for a fool?"
Yan Shiluo laughed softly. "Of course not. But a wise ruler prepares for every outcome. Surely Tianyuan does the same."
Their gazes locked.
And at the rear of the formation, Han Liuyan knelt quietly, hands resting on his thighs, expression lowered. He was used to being unseen.
One of the seniors even bumped into him on purpose saying he dirtied his robes. So he was kicked away, Han Liuyan moved to kneel elsewhere.
But he felt something.
A faint, strange pressure in the air. Not spiritual qi. Not murderous intent.
Something older. Something that made the back of his neck prickle, though he did not know why.
Yan Shiluo's smile curved again.
"I propose we discuss the finer details inside the neutral pavilion," he said. "The night grows cold. Negotiations are best held where both sides can speak freely."
Mo Tianxing studied him.
A trap? Possibly.
A test? Certainly.
But refusing now would be seen as weakness.
"Fine. General Huo Zhen. You will accompany me."
Huo zhen nodded his head and followed right behind mo tianxing
Yan Shiluo turned, robes sweeping behind him like spilled ink. His demon cultivators parted the mist, revealing a stone pavilion built atop a jutting cliff, wards flickering faintly along its pillars.
A place prepared long in advance.
Mo Tianxing walked without hesitation.
Yet as he passed the kneeling boy, his gaze flicked downward for a single moment.
Han Liuyan did not look up. Small. Quiet. Obedient. He knew that the emperor was staring at him, and this young child was still nothing like the demon in his vision.
But fate had shown him otherwise.
And Mo Tianxing did not believe in coincidences.
***
Inside the pavilion, torches burned with pale blue flame. A round stone table sat at its center. No chairs. No comforts. Only space to speak… or strike.
Yan Shiluo gestured politely. "Please."
Mo Tianxing did not sit. He remained standing.
Yan Shiluo did the same.
Yan Shiluo inclined slightly. "Allow me to speak plainly," he said, voice smooth, like silk stretched over steel. "The Crimson Demon Sect seeks stability…"
He smiled. A slow, dangerous smile.
Then, without warning, his hand moved.
Red qi erupted like a coiled serpent. It shot forward, precise and lethal.
Huo Zhen reacted first. Steel met crimson qi with a scream of force. Sparks and shards of stone flew. The impact slammed through the pavilion, shaking the walls.
But Yan Shiluo's strike was precise, deadly, and subtle. The tip of the red qi clipped the side of Huo Zhen's armor. A sharp, burning pain.
The general grunted, staggering, but he did not fall. He gritted his teeth, countered, and his sword sang through the air, slicing at the advancing qi.
Huo Zhen lunged again. Every motion calculated. His sword deflected the next strike, sending sparks against the stone floor.
A shard of qi grazed his shoulder, ripping through armor, leaving a deep red line across his skin. Pain, yes. But not fatal. Huo Zhen growled low, planting his feet. He countered with a powerful strike that forced Shiluo back a pace.
Mo Tianxing remained perfectly still, golden eyes sharp as ever, he studied Shiluo like one studies a venomous snake, waiting for the perfect moment.
Yan Shiluo's smile thinned, but his movements remained fluid, elegant, and deadly. Every step, every slash of qi.. how monstrous.
Although im so not amused, demons are selfish creatures after all.
Outside, the mist shifted. Lian Yue sensed something was wrong from afar, but she could not intervene.
Inside, Huo Zhen's breath came harder, but he held his ground. Every strike from Shiluo was brutal, fast, precise cutting close, striking pain, snapping bone lightly against armor- enough to weaken, but not to kill outright.
Mo Tianxing finally stepped forward, voice calm but edged with steel. "Enough."
His qi surged, golden light spilling through the pavilion like molten sun. Red qi screamed as it was forced back, yet leaving Shiluo's grin still intact.
Then-
A red blur.
A disciple of the Crimson Demon Sect lunged from the shadows behind a pillar, crimson qi crackling like a whip.
The strike was sudden and precise. Probably lethal. Who knows?
Suddenly, Huo Zhen had been subdued by another demon. Chains of crimson qi bound him, slamming him against the far wall. His struggles echoed through the room, sharp and defiant, but useless.
Mo Tianxing's golden eyes narrowed. He stepped forward alone.
I should have brought five men with me..
Shiluo's smile widened. "Now, it's only us."
The disciples revealed themselves, emerging from the shadows like red smoke. Each one moved with lethal precision, qi coiling along their limbs, sharp, hungry.
The first lunged. A blade of crimson qi, spinning like a whip, aimed at Tianxing's shoulder.
Mo Tianxing parried, golden light erupting from his palm, clashing with the qi. Sparks flared. Stone cracked under the impact. The force threw him backward, robes rustling, but he landed firmly, unshaken.
Another disciple struck, feet sliding across the polished floor, qi trailing like fire. Mo Tianxing spun, evading narrowly. The movement carried him toward Yan Shiluo.
The pavilion walls splintered under the pressure of energy. Each strike was brutal in intent that is meant to kill.
Mo Tianxing's hand lashed out, golden qi streaking like lightning. One disciple's qi was deflected, another's arm scorched as the energy snapped past him.
Yan Shiluo's crimson eyes gleamed. "Impressive. But predictable."
He moved lightly, almost lazily. Yet every gesture was deadly. A slight tilt of his wrist sent a wave of sharp qi slicing across the floor. Mo Tianxing leaped, barely dodging, feeling the heat of the strike on his skin. then Mo Tianxing had realized Yan Shiluo had him cornered.
Suddenly, a flicker at the edge at the side of Shiluo's vision. Small. Golden hair glinting. it was.. Han Liuyan!? the youth had darted behind Yan Shiluo, tugging sharply at his hair.
Shiluo staggered as Mo Tianxing's eyes blazed, not wanting to waste the opportunity. Golden qi surged forward, a strike meant to crush the sect master.
Yan Shiluo twisted midair, letting Mo Tianxing's strike glance off. But the force sent him flying backward across the pavilion, colliding with pillars and shattering stone. A thin line of blood glimmered on his lips.
The disciples hesitated for a heartbeat. Tianxing's presence was a wall, a storm contained in gold and shadow. Yet they still decided to move.
Blades of red qi lashed from every direction
Mo Tianxing's movements fluid and unrelenting. Every motion pushed the demon disciples back, yet each was meticulous, testing his limits, drawing him into a trap. Mo Tianxing didn't seem to care about Han Liuyan, but he was standing right in front of him as if shielding him..
It's not what it looks like!
One struck from above. Another from behind. Mo Tianxing's golden qi flashed, carving arcs of light, but the numbers pressed. He parried, countered, and each strike left its mark, scorch on robes, splintered stone, the acrid scent of burnt qi.
Shiluo's laughter cut through the chaos, as he stood up from the rubbles and dusted himself. "Do you feel it, Emperor? The gap? The trap? The inevitability?"
Mo Tianxing glared at him.
He inhaled once- slow
Then the pavilion changed.
Golden qi did not explode outward. It settled.
Like gravity.
Every demon cultivator felt it at the same time- the sudden heaviness pressing against their meridians, the faint ringing in their ears, the instinctive urge to retreat. This was not raw power. This was dominion.
Mo Tianxing took one step forward.
The stone beneath his foot fractured in a perfect radial pattern.
Yan Shiluo's smile finally faltered.
"General Huo Zhen, you may proceed."
The crimson chains binding Huo Zhen shuddered.
A sharp clang rang through the pavilion.
The chains snapped, not by brute force, but by precision. Huo Zhen twisted his wrists at an impossible angle, qi surging in a tight spiral that struck the weakest node in the binding formation. The chains dissolved into sparks of red light.
The general did not pause to breathe.
He tore a broken pillar from the floor and threw it.
Not at Yan Shiluo.
At the pavilion wall.
The impact was thunderous. Stone exploded outward, wards shattering in a cascade of broken runes. Night air and mist rushed in as half the pavilion opened to the cliffside.
Outside, Tianyuan cultivators stiffened.
Inside, demon cultivators froze.
That was when Lian Yue moved.
From beyond the shattered wall, her sword rang like a clear bell. A crescent of pale qi swept inward, precise and lethal, forcing three demon disciples back in a single breath. Tianyuan cultivators surged forward behind her, formations locking into place with practiced efficiency.
The pavilion became a battlefield within a battlefield.
Yan Shiluo clicked his tongue softly.
"Clever."
Mo Tianxing finally turned his full attention to him.
"Your mistake... was assuming I would fight like a cultivator. im an emperor meant to lead."
A demon disciple lunged from the left.
Mo Tianxing did not look.
He stepped sideways, palm striking backward. Golden qi pierced cleanly through the disciple's chest, dispersing his core in silence.
Another attacked from above.
Mo Tianxing caught the descending blade barehanded.
The crimson qi shattered against his grip like glass.
He twisted.
The disciple screamed once before being slammed into the floor hard enough to crater stone.
Yan Shiluo's gaze darkened.
"So this is the Heavenly Tyrant Body."
Mo Tianxing did not deny it.
He advanced.
Each step forced Yan Shiluo back- not physically, but strategically. The sect master's movements grew sharper, less playful. Crimson qi lashed out in layered formations, cutting, binding, poisoning the air itself.
Mo Tianxing walked through them.
Behind him, Han Liuyan stood frozen.
He did not understand what he was seeing... only that the pressure he had felt earlier now roared like a silent storm. His chest tightened. His vision blurred, not from fear, but from something pulling at him.
Mo Tianxing sensed it.
For the first time, his focus wavered.
He glanced back- just once.
Mo Tianxing felt the disturbance only faintly, like a gnat brushing against his senses.
Annoying.
Irrelevant.
He did not turn.
Yan Shiluo, however, did.
His gaze slid past the emperor and landed on the kneeling boy at the edge of the ruined pavilion. White eyes. Golden hair. Fragile posture. Obedient to the point of invisibility.
Yan Shiluo chuckled.. "It was him wasn't it? the one who pulled my hair? what a nice trick in order to protect your-"
"Do not look where you are not permitted," he said coldly.
The warning was not for Han Liuyan.
It was for Yan Shiluo.
The ground split beneath Mo Tianxing's feet as he advanced. His presence pressed down like judgment itself. Golden light swallowed the pavilion, forcing the remaining demon cultivators back step by step.
Their formations wavered.
Cracked.
Shattered.
Outside, Tianyuan's forces seized the moment. Lian Yue's sword cleaved through qi, her command ringing clear as cultivators advanced in tight ranks, driving the demon sect into disarray.
Yan Shiluo clicked his tongue, leaping back as a pillar collapsed between them.
"Tch. How tiresome."
Crimson mist spiraled around him as he retreated toward the cliff's edge, his disciples following suit, injured and furious but disciplined.
"This isn't over, Mo Tianxing," Yan Shiluo called, laughter threading through the night. "Fate has already chosen its pieces."
Mo Tianxing did not pursue.
He stood amid the wreckage, golden qi slowly retracting into his body, expression neutral.
coward.
The demon sect vanished into the mist.
Silence followed.
The pavilion lay in ruins. Stone dust drifted through the air. Blood stained the floor.
Huo Zhen dropped to one knee, bruised and battered.
"Your Majesty" he said hoarsely.
"train more, i am to punish you later for getting caught."
Huo Zhen bowed most probably accepting his fate.
Mo Tianxing turned at last, not toward the general, but toward the kneeling boy still trembling at the edge of the pavilion.
Han Liuyan lowered his head further, forehead nearly touching stone.
He waited.
For punishment.
Mo Tianxing's gaze was sharp, assessing, devoid of warmth.
"So," the emperor said coolly, "disobeying my orders now? it is very much a death sentence at your part."
Han Liuyan flinched.
"I..I did not intend-"
"Intent is irrelevant, Weakness invites chaos."
i do not wish to acknowledge that i have been saved by my (future) killer...
and as cruel as ever, he turned away.
"Take him back, Keep him out of my sight."
The command was final.
Han Liuyan's hands clenched as guards moved toward him, fear tightening in his chest.
Mo Tianxing did not look at him.
even demons fail to kill such a frail looking brat who hid behind me the whole time, how annoying!
***
Night came without ceremony.
The imperial chambers were silent, curtains drawn, incense burned low. Mo Tianxing lay upon his bed as he had a thousand nights before
Then the dream came.
Blood soaked the marble floor.
Not fresh. Not steaming. Old. Sticky. Blackened.
Chains wrapped around his limbs, dragging him down as shadows closed in. A throne loomed above him, cracked and empty. Voices whispered-
and then, laughter.
It was slightly familiar.
A blade pierced his chest.
Pain exploded!
And when he turned his head slightly to look..
A child's face, expressionless as he watched Mo Tianxing dying
then suddenly as he tried to evade the child's gaze closing his eyes, he was forced to open them when someone had grabbed his jaw and crushed it, it was the older version of.. Han Liuyan. this time with red eyes that gazed down at him as he gouged out one of Mo Tianxing's eyes.. and then he ate it.
Mo Tianxing's eyes snapped open.
He sat up in a single breath, golden qi flaring violently enough to rattle the windows. The incense guttered. Sweat cooled against his spine.
Silence returned.
He stared ahead, jaw clenched.
"…Ridiculous" he muttered.
Nightmares were for the weak. For the guilty. For those who feared death.
He did not.
And yet...
His gaze drifted to the shadows at the edge of the room.
The image lingered.
White eyes.
Watching.
Mo Tianxing exhaled sharply and swung his legs over the side of the bed.
"I should have killed him," he thought flatly.
That would have been logical. Efficient. Clean..
well, he had thought about it.. seeing as the boy was a demon who is yet awakened..
Han Liuyan was a latent demon vessel.
Not awakened.
Not active.
Not useful.
Yet.
His demonic core was sealed so deeply it mimicked human frailty-fragile bones, slow recovery, weak qi circulation. To any cultivator's senses, he was harmless. Worthless.
That was precisely the problem.
If killed before awakening, their cores did not disperse.
They collapsed inward.
The result was not death—but release.
A formless backlash. A demonic echo that latched onto the strongest hostile presence nearby.
And Mo Tianxing was always the strongest presence.
If the boy were executed—by sword, poison, command, or "accident" the dormant demon core would rupture without form, without mind, without direction.
It would not reincarnate.
It would not possess another body.
It would corrode.
Turning its last hatred into a curse that would cling to Mo Tianxing's qi like rot in bone- slow, invisible, and impossible to cleanse.
It's certainly not fatal.
Never dramatic.
Just constant erosion.
A tyrant could rule with blood on his hands.
But not with instability in his cultivation.
Mo Tianxing had confirmed this through ancient demon records after the vision of his death. Killing him was a dangerous risk.
So he did not.
Instead, he broke the boy.
Kept him weak.
Kept him alive.
Unawakened.
Because a demon that never woke... Was safer than one that died too early, he had to keep him sealed unawakened no matter the cost. Letting him do heavy labor, chores and what not was already a good option.
Let him suffer Mo Tianxing had decided.
A living nuisance is preferable to a dying curse.
That was why Han Liuyan still breathed. Not because he was protected. but because killing him now would be a mistake.
nevertheless,
Mo Tianxing exhaled slowly.
Just once.
It was enough to irritate him.
He swung his legs off the bed and stood, silk robes falling into place as if discipline itself lived in the fabric. The palace lamps bowed their flames as he passed, sensing his displeasure.
Troublesome.. he thought flatly.
A nightmare should not dictate the actions of an emperor.
And yet-
His steps did not slow as he descended past the inner courts, past the guarded halls, past places no ruler should ever need to visit in person.
The dungeon gates groaned open.
The air changed immediately.
Damp stone. Rusted iron. Old blood that never truly washed away.
Mo Tianxing disliked inefficiency. Dungeons were inefficient. They kept problems alive longer than necessary.
Tonight, unfortunately, that was the point.
"Leave, if not i will gut you all alive." Mo Tianxing said.
They fled as if absolution waited outside.
The torches flickered as he walked deeper, the sound of dripping water echoing like a metronome counting sins. Chains rattled faintly from distant cells.
He stopped.
The punishment post stood at the far end.
Han Liuyan was bound there.
Not unconscious.
Not screaming.
Just barely upright.
Huo Zhen's punishment was to train even harder, although he did get whipped before then forced to train more, his whipping was not as many as Han Liuyan.
His back was a ruin, crisscrossed welts, broken skin, dried blood dark against pale flesh. The whip marks were meticulous. Whoever carried out the punishment had followed orders precisely.
A hundred lashes.
No more.
No less.
Mo Tianxing assessed the damage with a healer's eye and a general's detachment.
"Alive," he noted. "Annoyingly so."
Han Liuyan stirred, sensing someone behind him. His breath hitched.
"…emperor.." the boy whispered hoarsely, words slurred with exhaustion.
Mo Tianxing frowned.
He had not spoken yet.
That annoyed him more than it should have.
"So obedient it borders on stupidity."
Is that a demon trait, or just poor upbringing?
He stepped closer.
The chains creaked.
Han Liuyan flinched hard this time, shoulders trembling as pain surged back through him. He bit down on his sleeve, trying not to make a sound.
Mo Tianxing paused.
"…Tch."
although he hated this boy.. for a child, taking even 1 was enough to make them cry and wail in pain.. This one however, alive but quite weak at the moment.
He reached into his sleeve and withdrew a small vial of medicinal paste. Rare. Effective. Expensive.
I am officially losing my mind! First nightmares. Now this?
He applied the medicine without ceremony.
The boy gasped, muscles seizing.
"Hold still!" Mo Tianxing said sharply. "You survived a hundred lashes. Do not embarrass yourself over ointment."
Han Liuyan froze instantly.
The dungeon fell quiet again, save for his uneven breathing.
Mo Tianxing worked efficiently. No tenderness. No cruelty either. Just the bare minimum required to prevent infection and prolonged weakness.
As he worked, irritation simmered.
This body is fragile, Yet the core hasn't collapsed. Demons really are stubborn pests.
He sealed the last wound and withdrew his hand.
Han Liuyan sagged forward, consciousness wavering.
"…T-Thank you." he murmured, barely audible.
Mo Tianxing's expression darkened.
"I did not come because of gratitude, Nor because I care whether you live comfortably."
He stepped back, wiping his fingers clean with a flick of qi.
"You disobeyed orders. You were punished. And This is concluded."
Han Liuyan nodded weakly, forehead pressing against the post.
"Yes… Your Majesty."
"…If you awaken.." he said quietly, "I will know."
Han Liuyan did not understand the words, tilting his head. Then, Mo Tianxing exited the dungeon without another glance. The gates shut behind him.
"Next time.." he thought grimly, "I will ensure I never come here again."
The night, unfortunately, did not seem inclined to listen.
End of Chapter 2 - Author's Notes
Spirit Veins (灵脉) -
Channels of concentrated spiritual energy flowing beneath the land, much like rivers of qi. Control over them grants immense cultivation advantage. Sharing them is a delicate act, it strengthens allies but invites betrayal if trust is broken.
Golden Qi (金气) -
Refined spiritual energy possessed by those of extraordinary cultivation. Mo Tianxing's golden qi is a symbol of both his imperial authority and martial prowess, able to suppress red qi and crush demonic formations.
Demon Vessel/Latent Demon (潜魔) -
A human whose body houses dormant demonic power. Weak in appearance, fragile, or sickly, maybe even fair and beautiful, they are dangerous precisely because killing them prematurely may unleash unpredictable demonic backlash.
Demon Vessel/Latent Demon (潜魔) -
A human whose body houses dormant demonic power. Weak in appearance, fragile, or sickly, they are dangerous precisely because killing them prematurely may unleash unpredictable demonic backlash.
Chains of Red Qi (魔气锁链) -
A form of binding using red qi instead of metal. Flexible, sharp, and able to constrict, these chains can pin even powerful cultivators when woven into a formation's weak points.
Neutral Pavilion (中立亭) -
A strategically constructed meeting place designed for negotiation or confrontation. It is fortified with wards and subtle barriers to conceal presence and resist surprise attacks.