The twelve cultivators burst through the doors of the central hall, their faces pale with terror, their voices a jumbled rush of panicked reports.
All eyes turned to the figure seated at the head of the table – not the Sect Leader, but the First Elder, Hong.
Hong, a figure shrouded in enigma, raised a hand, silencing the chaos.
Even the most senior members of the Righteous Sect knew little of him.
He moved like a shadow, his face forever hidden behind a dark mask, his body swathed in black combat garb, bristling with concealed weapons.
He was the Sect's silent blade, a guardian whose power was whispered about in hushed tones.
His voice, a low, gravelly rasp that seemed to scrape against the very air, cut through the room. "Enough. I will inform the Sect Leader." He rose, his movements fluid and unnervingly swift.
Unseen by the panicking council, Hong launched himself into the sky, the force of his departure rattling the hall.
He closed his eyes for a moment, attuning himself to the residual energy, a dark, throbbing pulse emanating from the south.
Without hesitation, he shot towards it, an arrow loosed from a celestial bow, leaving only a whisper of displaced air in his wake. He knew, with grim certainty, that whatever awaited him, it was beyond anything he had faced before.
Meanwhile, as the Sect scrambled to assess the damage, Jun Hao, unconscious and bleeding, was carefully placed onto a specially prepared palanquin.
Bai Cheng, one of the twelve who had survived the initial encounter, took the reins.
He was gaunt, his face etched with the memory of the battle, but his grip on the reins was firm.
"The Divine Physician of the West is our only hope," he muttered, urging the horses forward. "He'll mend you, just hold on a little longer I will get you there.
"I swear it."
Hours later, Hong descended upon the village, or what remained of it.
"Silent Stones"
was now a graveyard of splintered wood and scorched earth. Echo-Surge energy, a residue of the Nyx's power, clung to the air, making it difficult to breathe.
It was a desolate tableau of human fragility against an uncaring, cosmic horror.
He landed softly, his senses on high alert. As he moved towards the village center, a wall of invisible force slammed into him, sending him stumbling back.
A rare expression of surprise flickered across his masked face.
The energy was not merely chaotic; it was malevolent, actively pushing him away. The air thrummed with a silent warning – turn back.
Yet, he pressed on, his boots crunching on the charred remains of what were once homes.
His breath hitched in his throat. In the heart of the ruined village, a scene of brutal carnage unfolded.
Sect Leader Zhou Tan and Jing Hua, a rising star of the Flower Sect, fought with desperate ferocity against a figure wreathed in shadow and malevolent energy - nyx energy. Blood painted the ground, and the air crackled with the raw power of clashing source energies.
Zhou Tan, normally an imposing figure, was battered and bleeding, one eye swollen shut, his movements hampered by obvious injuries. Jing Hua, despite her grace and skill, was equally worn down, her usually pristine robes torn and stained crimson.
Detrigon, on the other hand, fought with an almost languid ease, deflecting their attacks with minimal effort.
A sickening grin played on his lips as he toyed with his opponents.
Hong's blood ran cold.
The Sect Leader… faltering? It was unthinkable. A wave of shame washed over him. He, the First Elder, the Sect's most trusted weapon, was arriving too late. He was useless.
"I... I don't know what to do," he stammered, his voice a barely audible whisper. "How can I help?".
Even amidst the deadly dance, Zhou Tan's voice, strained but firm, cut through the air.
"Elder! What village is this?"
Hope flared in Hong's chest. "The Village of Silent Stones, Sect Leader!"
Dodging a vicious strike that cleaved through the air where his head had been moments before, Zhou Tan roared, "Activate the array! Now! Or we all die here!"
Detrigon chuckled, a deep, unsettling sound that echoed through the ruined village. "Did you think me a fool, Righteous Ones? That you could simply trap me?"
With a casual flick of his wrist, Detrigon unleashed a wave of compressed air, a silent blade of pure force.
Zhou Tan, exhausted and injured, couldn't react in time. Hong, seeing the impending doom, threw himself forward, intercepting the attack. The air pressure ripped through his right arm, tearing his muscles and shattered his bones.
A raw, animalistic scream ripped from Hong's throat.
"Haaaaaaaaaaaah, my arm"
Pain, blinding and all-consuming, threatened to overwhelm him. He stumbled back, clutching the ruined limb, blood spurting between his fingers.
Zhou Tan, barely managing to stay on his feet, shouted, "Elder! You're the only one versed in the ancient runes. Activate the village array! Now! Or your head will be next!".
Ignoring the agony that threatened to drag him into unconsciousness, Hong forced himself to focus.
With his left hand, he frantically etched a series of intricate runes onto the stump of his right arm, sealing the wound and stemming the bleeding.
Then, drawing upon the last reserves of his echoes source energy, he slammed his palm onto the ground, channeling the power of the earth itself.
The ground trembled. Runes carved into the ancient stones of the village glowed with an ethereal light.
A surge of cerulean energy erupted skyward, forming a shimmering barrier that enveloped the entire village.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Detrigon continued his assault, his movements now more precise, more deliberate.
He fought with a contained fury, each strike a calculated effort to break through the Righteous Faction's defenses.
But there was something different now.
He felt it too - a subtle shift in the energy around him. The array was working.
The village, once a source of power, was now slowly isolating him, draining his strength.
Zhou Tan and Jing Hua pressed their advantage, their attacks becoming more coordinated, more desperate. Hope, a fragile and flickering thing, began to bloom in their hearts.
Zhou Tan, wiping blood from his remaining eye, spat at Detrigon's feet.
"Hey, Nyxspawn! I thought you were so strong? Turns out you're just a common bully who can't handle a fair fight."
His words were a calculated taunt, a desperate attempt to unnerve the Nyx, to exploit any hint of arrogance or desperation.
Detrigon ignored Jing Hua's taunt, his eyes fixed on a point beyond the barrier. Then, a slow smirk spread across his face.
"Hm...hahahaha. So, you seek to drag me down to your level? Very well. Children of sorrow and despair, rise!" His voice, impossibly deep, echoed across the ruined village.
The ground buckled.
From the churned earth, corpses clawed their way free, their rotting flesh twisting into grotesque, Nyx-corrupted parodies of life.
The villagers - the very people who were resting in death had come back to life.
"You bastard!"
Those were innocent people!
" Zhou Tan roared, his voice thick with grief and rage.
Detrigon's gaze turned on him, cold and dismissive.
"Innocent? You, who have slaughtered your own kind in the name of 'justice'? No human is innocent. Every breath is tainted by greed, deceit, and violence. Those fifteen fools who rushed here sought a treasure they did not earn. Selfish and greedy species- on what grounds do you stand to condemn me?"
Zhou Tan's fury faltered.
Detrigon's words struck a raw nerve. The justifications he had clung to for so long seemed hollow, tainted.
"Time is up,"
Detrigon said, the amusement fading from his eyes.
"It seems I must return to the Realm of Sorrows.
My goal was that human you so diligently hid. I know not where you secreted the boy away, for none weep for him yet. But I will return. And when I do, in my true form, you will not even be able to scratch me as you did today. "
"Farewell."
A wave of oppressive energy washed over Zhou Tan. His grip loosened on his sword, his hands trembling. He felt a strange lightness overcome him a realization of some kind.
"Hah… guess it's not my turn to die. Not yet." He collapsed, unconscious, amidst the ash and ruin.
The newly risen Nyx corpses shuddered and crumbled, returning to their original lifeless state.
Jing Hua of the Flower Sect, silent and unreadable, launched into the air and vanished towards her sect.
The village of Silent Stones, weakened by the energies of death, was now uninhabitable to all but cultivators.
A suffocating heat, capable of turning flesh to ash, radiated from the ground.
First Elder Hong, cradling his severed arm, slumped beside Zhou Tan. "You two fought for hours," he muttered, removing his mask, his face pale and slick with sweat.
"And I… I didn't even get to swing my sword. Gods, I'm weak."