The midnight air in the Iron-Blood Valley was thick with the scent of damp earth and impending death.
Cheon Woa lunged forward, his lungs burning like he'd swallowed hot coals. His regal robes—once fine silk, now tattered rags—clung to his blood-slicked skin. Behind him, the rhythmic thrum of footsteps on branches told him his pursuers were closing in.
"Give it up, Seventh Prince!" a raspy voice echoed through the trees. "The Great Madam has no more patience for your existence. Dying here is the only mercy you'll receive!"
Woa didn't answer. He couldn't. A jagged cut across his ribs whistled with every breath. He was the "Trash Prince," the son of a lowly maid, a stain on the Demonic Cult's prestigious lineage. He had no internal energy, no guards, and now, no hope.
THWACK.
A throwing dagger buried itself in Woa's calf. He tumbled, skidding through the mud until he hit the base of a lightning-scarred oak.
Two assassins landed softly in the clearing, their faces obscured by black iron masks. They drew their sabers, the steel glinting with a cruel, cold light.
"Any last words for the mother you never knew?" the lead assassin sneered, raising his blade for the decapitating swing.
Woa closed his eyes, his hand clutching a strange, cold pebble he'd found in the dirt—a jagged piece of black obsidian that seemed to vibrate against his palm. Is this it? he thought bitterly. To die in the mud like a dog?
As the saber descended, the obsidian shard in his hand didn't just vibrate—it shattered.
Time slowed to a crawl. A voice, crystalline and ancient, resonated not in his ears, but directly within his bone marrow.
[System Initialization: Resonance Found.]
[Scanning Host Bio-Signatures... Critical Damage Detected.]
[Entity "Dao Machine" requesting emergency synchronization to preserve life. Accept?]
Woa's vision blurred. "Accept..." he wheezed.
[Synchronization: 100%]
[Injecting Primordial Essence into Damaged Tissue.]
Suddenly, Woa's body arched. A sensation like molten gold flooded his veins. The wound in his leg stitched itself together in a blur of shimmering light. His dull eyes flared with a sudden, piercing golden hue.
The lead assassin's blade was inches from his neck when Woa's hand blurred.
CLANG.
Woa didn't just block the sword; he caught the edge with his bare palm. The steel groaned under the pressure of his grip.
"What... what is this power?!" the assassin gasped, his eyes widening behind the mask.
[Threat Analysis: Two Rank-3 Disciples.]
[Executing Optimal Combat Counter-Measure: 'Heavenly Severance'.]
Woa didn't think. He felt the Dao Machine take control of his motor functions. His body moved with a terrifying, mechanical grace that defied human physics. He twisted the assassin's wrist until the bone snapped like a dry twig, snatched the falling saber, and spun.
Squelch.
The first assassin didn't even have time to scream before his head rolled into the mud.
The second attacker froze, his breath hitching. "You... you were supposed to have no Qi! You're a monster!"
Woa stood up, his height seeming to double in the moonlight. The golden glow in his eyes intensified, projecting a translucent screen of ancient runes only he could see.
[Target Lock: Acquired.]
[Switching to High-Speed Processing Mode.]
"I'm not a monster," Woa said, his voice overlapping with a low-frequency hum. "I'm just..."
Before the second man could turn to flee, Woa vanished. A single streak of golden light cut through the dark. A moment later, Woa appeared behind the man, flicking blood off the borrowed blade. The assassin slumped forward, his torso sliding off his legs in a perfect, horizontal cut.
gasped, the adrenaline fading as the Dao Machine's "Combat Mode" deactivated. He looked at his clean, healed hands.
[Combat Complete. Experience Harvested.]
[Host, we have much to do if you wish to survive the night.]