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墨書 Inktalez
Under the blazing sun, a gentle breeze blew.
At a riverside somewhere in the southern corner of Zhongzhou, two boys wearing shorts lounged comfortably in rocking chairs, sipping on Yuan Yang Fruit juice, their heads shaded by a large umbrella. Surrounding them was a group of girls, giving them leg massages and shoulder rubs. A few of the girls looked hesitant, while two other boys, sporting black eyes and swollen faces from being beaten, were kneeling nearby, massaging their feet with expressions of resentment but not daring to utter a word.
On the sandy beach by the river, two rows of mostly bruised young men stood in formation, listening to an impassioned speech from a youth in front of them who was fervently gesticulating and spitting as he spoke.
“Don’t you all agree? I’ve said it before: bullying me leads to nothing good. If my brothers were here, you’d all be on the ground. And yet you dared to mock me to my face. Now you’re all quiet, aren’t you? You lot just can’t resist getting beaten up. And you there—yes, you, Fatty! I remember how you knocked me out thirteen or fourteen times over the past two years. When I was carried off to the disabled area, you laughed at me and took away the few Spirit Qi Pills I had left while I watched helplessly. Come here; let’s have a good talk!”
The impassioned speaker was none other than Scholar Xiu, the renowned mouthpiece of the Inner Courtyard.
Thus, the chubby boy who had been called out walked out of line trembling, repeatedly pleading as Scholar Xiu dragged him behind a rockery.
Screams soon followed.
Half an incense stick later, Scholar Xiu emerged triumphantly, dragging the now-unconscious chubby boy behind him and tossing him onto a blood-stained patch of grass.
The lawn was already piled high with about twenty people lying haphazardly, all sporting bruises and swollen faces. Some had their legs draped over their necks in a gruesome display.
Under the umbrella lay a plump boy with an apple-shaped face who lifted a slice of Yuan Yang Fruit off his eyes and said to Zhao Yang lying next to him, “Zhao Yang, do you think Scholar Xiu has become psychologically twisted? He’s been beating everyone for half the morning and still hasn’t found any balance.”
Zhao Yang yawned and kicked away the boy who was massaging his feet. He stood up and replied, “Weren’t you also stopping only when your hands got sore yesterday? Scholar Xiu probably has pent-up frustration. These offerings are all geniuses chosen by the Sect; they’ve been getting beaten for three days now. I’m worried the elders will blame us.”
A collective sweat broke out among the group as they realized that several Grand Offerings nearly beaten to death by Zhao Yang were now lying in the disabled area with uncertain fates. The Sect Leader had not only refrained from blaming them but had instead abolished the Offering Camp system according to Zhao Yang's wishes. Yet here he was worrying about some inconspicuous disciples.
A strange bird call echoed from the sky above, and Zhao Yang looked up to see a Spirit Crane he had never seen before. He wondered whether it was a messenger or mount of some elder. The thought of having never tasted the meat of a spirit beast sparked an idea in Zhao Yang's mind; he wanted to drag Long Xiao Wu along to catch one of the spirit beasts that only elders could possess and roast it.
At that moment, in the remote infirmary area of Myriad Spirit Sect, seven Grand Offerings were lying on healing beds made of scattered spirit stones, recuperating. Suddenly, they all awoke, startled by the sound of someone falling.
"Who’s there?! Sneaking around, come out!" Meng Yu shouted. Unlike the confusion and lingering shock on the faces of the others, Meng Yu had already awakened two days ago. His meridians had been shattered inch by inch by Zhao Yang's Heavenly Hammer, and many bones were broken. Fortunately, his Foundation Stage had not been destroyed; otherwise, he would rather choose death than live in such a state. As a direct descendant of a prominent cultivation family, he had always been surrounded by glory and had never suffered such severe injuries.
A man in a hooded black robe appeared at the door of the infirmary, looking somewhat haggard and surrounded by a dark aura. He was tall and thin, with skin stretched tightly over his bones, and dark blue veins pulsated beneath his skin like countless small black snakes writhing within him, making one feel nauseous.
"It’s you? What are you doing here? This is not a place for you; get out!" Meng Yu shouted at the man.
The other Grand Offerings struggled to lift their heads to look at the newcomer. The Raincoat Middle-aged man snorted and said, "Shiyunsheng, are you trying to take this opportunity to kill us? Although our bodies can’t move, our Foundation Stage remains intact. Do you think you can take advantage of us with your little tricks? Get lost!"
The Witch, wrapped in bandages, said, "We’re all bored anyway; playing with him could be fun." She cackled as she spoke and then spat out a ball of red flame. However, as soon as the flame emerged, it suddenly extinguished with a pop.
"Hmm?" The Grand Offerings were alarmed.
Shiyunsheng retracted his somewhat withered hand and slowly pulled off the black brim that had concealed his face from the darkness, revealing an ugly and terrifying visage. His complexion was poor; his skin was wrinkled and sagging, his eye sockets sunken deep, and his cheeks were so gaunt that his jawbone protruded sharply.
"So this is what the former number one of the Outer Sect has become? What a pity! I never expected that just two years later he would fall so low. I remember when he first entered the Inner Courtyard; he was quite handsome. Who would have thought he’d turn into such a masochist, recklessly cultivating just to provide us with energy? Looking at you now is truly disgusting; I wouldn’t want you even if you were given to me!" said the handsome young man with a smirk as he glanced at the youth beside him who looked like a peach blossom.
Shiyunsheng's voice was hoarse and raspy as he chuckled twice, revealing a set of prominent white fangs. "I originally planned to raise all of you to the brink of Foundation Establishment Great Perfection before making my move, but that damned Zhao Yang ruined my plans. Fortunately, your Foundation Stage is still intact."
"What do you mean? A useless person dares to attack us? Aren't you afraid the elders will discover you and kill you?"
Shiyunsheng let out a sinister gasp, like a demon laughing. At the same time, several Grand Offerings lying on the Spirit Stone bed began to emit black mist. Black lotus flowers bloomed one after another, causing the individuals to panic as they convulsed, realizing they could no longer control their True Qi, which surged backward uncontrollably. It was as if soldiers were following a general's command, rushing back into their Foundation Stage. The Foundation Stage emitted faint black mist and started to crack, showing signs of imminent collapse.
"Shiyunsheng, what have you done to us?" they shouted in horror.
"I am the son of the lord of Meng Wang City. If you dare to harm me and let my father know, he will chase you to the ends of the earth until your soul is shattered!" Meng Yu shouted as his body was restrained, trying to invoke his family's power to threaten Shiyunsheng.
Shiyunsheng responded with another wicked gasp, saying to Meng Yu, "You're just a child. Only children threaten others with their parents. You should just sleep peacefully."
Amidst their terror, they could only hear something within Meng Yu shattering. Black smoke stirred the air in the room, forming a sinister whirlwind. With a pop, Meng Yu's abdomen caved in, turning into a pile of powder.
A massive ball of black light coiled together and slowly flew in front of Shiyunsheng, drifting into his mouth. In an instant, Shiyunsheng's complexion improved significantly; his emaciated flesh filled out slightly as dark red blood began to seep from him. Meanwhile, Meng Yu lay cold on the bed, his eyes wide open and vacant like a zombie. The skin on his face and other exposed areas began to age slowly, devoid of any vitality.
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