The cold that night was wrong. It wasn't the usual winter chill of Feng Hollow—
It crept beneath the skin, sank into the bones, and refused to leave.
Xue Lianhua pulled her thin shawl tighter around her shoulders as she stepped out of the crumbling hut. The fabric did little to protect her, but she was used to that. Life in Feng Hollow had never been kind.
Still, something felt off. The village was too quiet. No coughing from the elders. No barking dogs. No low murmurs from neighbors trying to survive another freezing night. Even the wind had gone still, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Lianhua frowned. "…Strange."
She took a step forward, scanning the dimly lit paths between the huts.
Then she heard it. A wet sound. Heavy. Unnatural.
Like flesh being torn apart. Her body stiffened instantly.
"…Mother?" she called softly, her voice barely steady. No answer.
Then a scream shattered the silence.
"AAAAHHHH—!!!"
It was followed by another. Then another. Panic erupted across the village in an instant.
Lianhua's head snapped toward the source just as flames burst to life at the far end of the village. Fire spread rapidly, devouring the fragile wooden homes as if they were nothing.
"Fire?!"
Villagers ran in all directions, their voices filled with terror. Some tripped and fell into the snow, others cried out for loved ones who would never answer. And then she saw them.
Figures dressed in black robes, moving through the chaos with terrifying calm. Their steps were light, effortless, as if the destruction around them meant nothing.
One of them raised a hand.
The air distorted.
A man running toward the well suddenly froze mid-step. For a split second, everything seemed still—then his body split apart, cleanly, as if sliced by an invisible blade. Blood splattered across the snow.
Lianhua's breath caught in her throat.
"…Cultivators…"
The word trembled as it left her lips.
She had only ever heard of them in stories—beings who commanded power beyond imagination, who stood far above ordinary people. They lived in distant lands, in grand sects and noble clans.
They had no reason to come here.
So why were they destroying her home?
"RUN!"
A rough hand grabbed her arm. An old man, his face pale with fear, pulled at her desperately. "Child, don't stand there! Run!"
That broke her daze.
Lianhua ran.
Her feet slipped against the frozen ground as she pushed forward, her breath coming in short, panicked bursts. The heat from the flames licked at her back, while the cold wind cut at her face.
Everything was happening too fast.
A loud explosion shook the ground behind her. She stumbled and turned instinctively—
—and watched as her home collapsed into fire. "…Mother…"
Her voice cracked, fragile and broken.
Without thinking, she tried to turn back.
A force slammed into her from the side.
She hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the air from her lungs.
"Stay down if you want to live." The voice was cold. Detached.
Lianhua slowly lifted her head. A masked man stood over her, dressed in black robes untouched by ash or snow. His presence alone felt suffocating. His eyes glowed faintly.
They weren't human.
"P-please…" she stammered, her entire body trembling. "We have nothing… there's nothing here… please…"
The man tilted his head slightly, as if studying her. "Exactly," he said. Her heart dropped.
"Then… why…?"
"Orders." Just one word. Orders.
That was enough to erase her entire world.
The man raised his hand. The air grew heavy.
Lianhua's body slammed against the ground as an invisible pressure crushed down on her. It felt as though the sky itself had fallen.
"I don't… understand…" she gasped, struggling to breathe. "Why are you doing this?!" He didn't answer.
To him, she wasn't even worth an explanation.
Her vision blurred as the pressure increased. Her chest tightened painfully, her heartbeat growing weaker with each passing second.
So this is how I die… The thought came quietly. Coldly.
No.
She didn't want to die, not like this. Not without knowing why. Not without fighting back. Something inside her snapped.
A sharp, freezing sensation surged through her veins, sudden and violent.
The cultivator paused. "…Hm?"
Lianhua's body trembled uncontrollably. Her heartbeat slowed—then changed. Something else began to pulse within her, something ancient and heavy, something that did not belong to her.
The crushing pressure vanished instantly.
She collapsed forward, gasping for air.
The cultivator's gaze sharpened. "…Interesting."
A cold, blinding light erupted behind her.
He took a step back, his composure faltering for the first time. "…Impossible."
The world shattered.
When Lianhua opened her eyes again, the village was gone. No fire. No screams. No blood.
She stood on a vast, frozen expanse that stretched endlessly in all directions. The ground beneath her shimmered like glass, reflecting a dim, silver glow.
Above her hung a broken moon, cracked and bleeding light into the darkness.
"…Where am I…?" she whispered. "You stand between life and death." The voice came from everywhere at once. Lianhua froze.
Slowly, she turned.
A figure sat upon a throne formed from fractured light. His long silver hair drifted weightlessly around him, and his presence alone made her chest tighten
His eyes… were not eyes. They were voids.
Endless. Bottomless.
Her knees gave out instantly, and she collapsed to the ground, unable to withstand the pressure of his presence.
"What… are you…?" she asked weakly.
The figure watched her in silence before speaking.
"I am what remains," he said calmly. "A god abandoned by the heavens." Her mind struggled to process his words.
A god?
No… that couldn't be real. "Yet you stand before me while dying," he continued. Her breath hitched.
Dying…
The memories flooded back—flames, screams, blood. "…No…" Her voice broke. "I don't want to die…"
"Good."
The word echoed deeply, sending a strange chill through her.
"Desire is what defies fate," the god said.
Lianhua clenched her fists weakly. "If you're truly a god… then save me. Please…"
Silence stretched between them.
Then he spoke. "I will not save you." Her eyes widened. "…What?"
"I offer no salvation," he said. "Only power."
The broken moon above them pulsed, its light flickering violently. "To live," he continued, "you must devour." The space around them twisted, shadows writhing at the edges of her vision.
"Your world abandoned me," his voice grew colder. "So I will return through you."
Fear gripped her heart. "…What will happen to me?"
"That depends on how much of yourself you are willing to lose."
She fell silent.
Her thoughts churned—her village, her mother, the flames, the helplessness.
And that word.
Orders.
Something inside her hardened. "If I accept… I won't die?" she asked.
"No."
"And I can kill them?"
A faint smile appeared on the god's lips.
"Yes."
Lianhua lowered her gaze.
Then, slowly, she spoke. "…Do it." Her voice was quiet, but firm. "I'll take it." The god laughed softly, the sound echoing unnaturally.
"Then break." Pain consumed her.
It tore through her body, ripping her apart from the inside. Again and again, as if she were being destroyed and remade at the same time.
Something forced its way into her veins—cold, violent, and hungry. She screamed. Her hair turned white. Her eyes burned with an unnatural light. And deep within her chest, something awakened.
Snow continued to fall over Feng Hollow as if nothing had happened. The masked cultivator stared down at her body. "…Dead?" he muttered. Her fingers twitched.
His eyes narrowed. "What—" Her eyes snapped open. A faint silver glow flickered within them. Something ancient stared back.
"You should have stayed dead," he said coldly, raising his hand again. But he was too late. She moved. Faster than he thought.
Her hand pierced through his chest. He froze, shock overtaking his expression.
"…What… are you…?"
Lianhua tilted her head slightly, her face calm, almost emotionless.
"I'm… still deciding." Her fingers tightened.
The cultivator's body began to wither. His energy, his very life, was being drained, devoured completely.
His scream didn't last long. When it ended, nothing remained but silence. Lianhua stood there, her breathing uneven.
"…What did I… do…?" But deep within her, a whisper echoed.
More.
She slowly lifted her head. The village was still burning. Screams still filled the air.
This time, she didn't run. Xue Lianhua stepped forward. Not as a victim.
But as something far more dangerous.