Seven years had passed since the night Hua Lianxin's world was shattered. Time had hardened him, chipping away the softness of a child and leaving behind a man forged from grief and rage. At the age of sixteen, he had reached the Mid Nascent Soul stage—a level of cultivation that spoke of his prodigious talent and unyielding determination. Yet, the fire within him remained unquenched, fueled by a singular, burning desire: vengeance.
His journey to the White Lotus Sect was steeped in silence, save for the soft rustle of leaves beneath his boots. The air grew colder as he approached its territory, the landscape shifting from lush greenery to a pristine, almost ethereal expanse. Snow-covered trees lined the path, their branches bowing under the weight of white petals that fluttered like whispers in the wind. The sect's towering gates, carved from pure jade, loomed ahead, radiating an unapproachable beauty.
As Hua Lianxin stepped inside, he couldn't help but feel the weight of the sect's aura—dominant and unyielding, like the crisp edge of a blade. Disciples, clad in white robes adorned with silver lotuses, moved with an air of aloof elegance. They barely spared him a glance, their disdain for outsiders evident in their cold expressions. The White Lotus Sect's reputation for its strict, almost isolating customs was well-known; interaction with men, let alone outsiders, was heavily frowned upon.
He stood at the edge of the central courtyard, his gaze sweeping over the immaculate architecture. Delicate stone pavilions rose like sculptures, their surfaces etched with intricate patterns of blooming lotuses. A shimmering lake reflected the soft glow of moonlight, casting an almost divine radiance across the sect. But beneath its beauty lay a stern and unyielding power—a sect whose name alone could command respect across realms.
"You're here," a voice interrupted his thoughts.
Hua Lianxin turned to see a young woman standing a short distance away. She was dressed in the robes of the sect, her expression as cold as the icy winds that swept through the courtyard. Her beauty was striking, her features sharp and refined, but her eyes held no warmth as they met his.
"I'm Xue Yue," she said flatly, her tone devoid of any emotion. "Your partner for the mission."
Hua Lianxin dipped his head slightly, suppressing the urge to comment on her frosty demeanor. He had heard tales of the White Lotus Sect's customs, and Xue Yue embodied them perfectly—detached and unyielding.
Before he could respond, another figure approached. The woman was older, her presence commanding yet graceful. Dressed in more ornate robes, she radiated authority. This was one of the sect's young elders, tasked with overseeing the mission.
"The two of you have been assigned to investigate the recent activities of a cult operating near the War God Continent's battlefield," the elder began, her voice calm yet firm. "This cult has been abducting children for sacrificial purposes. Why they target children remains a mystery, but their actions must be stopped."
The words hung in the air like a dark cloud. Hua Lianxin's fists clenched at his sides, the memories of his past flashing through his mind. Across from him, Xue Yue's calm demeanor faltered, a flicker of anger crossing her icy gaze.
"Cult!" The word burst from their lips simultaneously, their voices laced with venom. Their eyes met, both filled with an unspoken rage.
For a moment, silence followed their outburst. Then, as if realizing their shared reaction, they each took a step back, their expressions shifting to wariness. Why had she reacted so strongly? Why had he? The questions lingered, unspoken, between them.
"Enough," the elder said sharply, her gaze sweeping over both of them. "I understand your emotions, but let them not cloud your judgment. This mission requires precision, not recklessness. Do you understand?"
Hua Lianxin and Xue Yue nodded, though the fire in their eyes refused to be extinguished. Without another word, the elder dismissed them, leaving the two to prepare for their journey.
The path to the War God Continent was arduous, the terrain growing more treacherous with each step. Neither spoke much, their silence a fragile barrier against the storm of emotions brewing within. By the time they arrived at the desolate battlefield, the air was thick with the stench of blood and despair. The remnants of war lay scattered across the ground—broken weapons, charred earth, and the faint echo of lives lost.
As they moved deeper into the territory, a sound caught their attention. Two figures, cloaked in black, emerged from the shadows, a small, frightened child struggling in their grasp.
Hua Lianxin and Xue Yue exchanged a glance. Without a word, they began to follow the cultists, their movements silent and precise. The trail led them to a dark, foreboding cave, its entrance hidden behind a dense thicket. The cultists disappeared inside, their whispers echoing faintly in the still air.
When the two cultivators peered inside, their breath caught. The cavern was vast, its walls adorned with blood-red sigils that pulsed with an eerie light. At its center, an altar stood, surrounded by hooded figures chanting in a language neither could understand. The child was dragged toward the altar, his terrified cries muffled by the cultists' chants.
Hua Lianxin's jaw tightened, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his blade. Beside him, Xue Yue's expression hardened, her icy composure replaced by a storm of emotions.
For a moment, neither moved, their minds reeling at the sight before them. The sheer malevolence of the scene left them both stunned, a silence heavier than any they had known settling between them.
And then the chapter ends.