Xuan Ye stepped out of the leaking hut into the perpetual twilight of the Thousand Abyss Realm. The sky above was a fractured canvas of black, pierced by the faint bleeding glows from distant dying stars embedded like infected wounds. No true sun rose here. Light itself was a scarce resource, borrowed from the faint radiance of active Abyssal Runes or rather the sickly bioluminescence of flora that fed on the void's leakage.
He moved slowly at first, testing the limits of this new vessel. Each step sent dull throbs through his damaged meridians. The body of Ming was young, thin from neglect with twisted qi pathways that barely circulated energy. Talent was near zero. In his previous life, Xuan Ye had also risen from nothing through ten thousand years of schemes and violations. Here, he started as outer sect trash and disposable fodder for the inner court's ambitions.
The air carried the spikes of abyssal flora and the faint ever-present whisper of the Outer Dark. Cracks in the mountain slope around the Crimson Veil Sect showed thin tendrils of shadow that twisted like living smoke. The sect itself clung to the mountainside like a parasite: tiered stone buildings, training grounds carved into cliffs and narrow paths winding between patches of black-leaved plants that pulsed with faint corruptive energy.
Xuan Ye kept his head lowered, limping like the crippled outer disciple he now inhabited. No one spared him a glance. Outer sect disciples hurried about their menial tasks like carrying water from shadowed springs, tending spirit herb plots that yielded meager results or even sparring with clumsy techniques. The strong preyed on the weak even here. A distant shout echoed as one disciple was beaten for stealing rations. Typical...
He walked without purpose at first, letting the body's muscle memory guide him while his ancient mind absorbed everything.
The Thousand Abyss Realm. That name surfaced clearly from the merged memories. A colossal fractured continent suspended in endless black void. No sun, no moon... only the slow bleed of dying stars and the constant threat of reality cracking further. Cultivation here relied on "Abyssal Runes": living tattoos born from the primordial darkness, they granted power but starved without fresh violation. Female cultivators were most prized because their yin essence stabilized the runes best. Virgin talents were strategic resources. Once broken, can become Vessels, living batteries whose pleasure and pain could be harvested remotely.
Righteous sects preached preservation of the Dao and harmony against the void's collapse. Demonic factions openly celebrated Ruin Carnivals where captives were publicly carved. Both hid the same truth: existence was sin, and the strong accelerated the end while feasting on it.
The Crimson Veil Sect was a mid-tier power in the Veiled Heartlands, a decaying mountain fortress built atop dormant rifts. Three main families competed for control, with the Mu family currently dominant through Mu Tianhao, the sect leader. Outer disciples like huan Ming lived in squalor at the base. Inner court members hoarded resources and rare runes in fortified halls higher up.
Xuan Ye's lips curved faintly. "A small pond, perfect for the first ripples."
He continued his slow stroll, mapping every path every guard post every hidden corner where abyssal flora grew thickest. The ancestral altar sat at the heart of the main hall, a raised stone platform said to hold the blood and qi of generations of Mu ancestors. Defended but not impregnable during chaos.
He overheard snippets as he passed.
"…assembly in three days. Mu Tianhao wants to show strength before the guests…"
"…Mu Qinglan will demonstrate again. Her ice qi froze an entire training field last week…"
"…that engagement with the Li family boy. Political, of course. She acts like it's beneath her…"
"…outer trash like us will be the sacrifices again. Better stay invisible…"
Xuan Ye listened without expression. The sect layout amplified in his mind: main hall at the center, ancestral altar inside, inner court residences higher up, outer quarters sprawling at the base near the rifts.
The hunger in his soul sea remained.
Hours passed. His soul sea whispered insistently now. The Lust Rune I, freshly carved demanded more. Starvation had not yet set in but the hollow ache was growing, ignoring it would lead to soul erosion. He needed to stabilize this vessel before the family assembly in three days.
Eventually, he circled back to the hut.
The marked servant was still inside, exactly where he had left her. She lay curled on the straw mat, gray robes disheveled and skin damp with cooled sweat. The black sigil of the Lust Rune pulsed faintly on her lower abdomen like a living brand. Her breathing was shallow, her eyes glassy with lingering confusion and shame. She had never felt pleasure like that violent wave before. Her simple mind was still reeling from how easily her body had betrayed her.
Xuan Ye closed the door behind him and approached without hurry. He knelt beside her. One hand rested lightly on her thigh, fingers tracing upward in a slow deliberate caress. The rune in his palm pulsed gently, sending another subtle thread of arousal through her.
She gasped softly, hips twitching despite herself. "You… what did you do to me?" Her voice was hoarse, a mix of fear and unwanted heat.
He leaned closer, his voice low and calm, devoid of warmth. "I carved the truth into you. Your body already understands, It craves honestly."
His fingers slipped under her robes, brushing her still-sensitive slit. She was wet again, betraying herself. A soft whimper escaped her as he circled her lips lightly.
"You will serve a purpose," he continued evenly, fingers moving in rhythm while she squirmed. "The inner court prepares for an assembly in three days. Mu Tianhao plans sacrifices, I need eyes and ears there. You will listen, you will report gossip about Mu Qinglan, the ancestral altar, the wine preparations, anything useful. And in return, I will feed this hunger when it becomes too much."
She moaned brokenly as his fingers pressed inside, curling. Her walls clenched greedily. Tears pricked her eyes. "I… I hate this… I should report you…"
"But you won't." Another gentle rub deeper made her back arch. "Because your flesh is honest now, It knows what you wants."
He brought her to the edge slowly, letting her feel every second of the building pressure. She panted, hips rolling against his hand despite her shame. He withdrew.
The rune stabilized slightly. A trickle more essence flowed into him, knitting another thread of his damaged meridians.
She lay there panting, face flushed, the sigil glowing brighter for a moment.
"Go," he said simply. "Act normal, return when you are called."
She struggled to her feet on shaky legs, adjusting her robes with trembling hands. She shot him one last conflicted glance... Shame, fear and dark craving before slipping out.
Xuan Ye remained seated for a while longer, eyes closed, processing.
Mu Qinglan.
From the merged memories and the servant's earlier words, she was the clear target. Nineteen years old. Rank 3 genius cultivating an ice preservation path. Daughter of Mu Tianhao. Proud, aloof, considered a symbol of the sect's future. Her yin essence and talent would provide a massive boost, enough to fully repair this body and strengthen the Lust Rune for larger schemes.
She was engaged to a minor allied family's young master for political gain. The assembly in three days would likely also involve demonstrations of her power and the formalizing of that alliance.
Perfect.