162. Overwhelming power (3)

Shen Linao thrashed against the burning chains, his body twisting as flames erupted from his skin. His face was pulled taut, equal parts rage and desperation, the veins bulging along his temples as he strained. His qi surged wildly, spilling out in waves of fire that scorched the gorge, but none of it reached the man holding him.

Xinyan strode forward through the inferno as if it were nothing more than a passing breeze. His eyes did not waver. “Do you have any last wishes?”

Spittle flew from Shen Linao’s lips as he spat out hoarsely, “Fuck you!”

Three blazing hammers materialized behind Elder Xinyan, each one a mountain of fire given form. Without a pause, they hurtled forward, slamming into Shen Linao all at once.

The gorge exploded with the impact. The sound cracked like thunder as stone shattered, flames seared across the cliffs, and Shen Linao’s body was flung like a useless rock. He smashed into the side of the gorge with bone-snapping force, the cliff face groaning as rubble poured down.

Chen Ren raised an arm to shield his eyes. The dust thinned slowly and that was when he saw Shen Linao pinned against the cliff wall. A jagged edge of stone had pierced through his side, skewering him like prey on a spear. His body hung limp, blood spilling freely from his mouth, and his robes were scorched to tatters.

For a moment, Chen Ren thought it was over. That the regent would die here, crushed beneath the weight of his sins.

But before he could think any better, a sound tore through the silence, a wet, tearing up, followed by a growl.

Shen Linao’s skin began to peel, strips of flesh sloughing away like burning paper. His complexion drained pale, as if blood itself had fled his body. Then, before Chen Ren’s horrified eyes, his form began to twist.

Two massive horns pushed their way out from his skull, curling upward, dripping with blood and flame. His eyes, once shadowed by fury, ignited into a deep, unnatural red. When he opened his mouth, it wasn’t teeth anymore, rows of jagged flangs gleamed in the firelight.

The qi spilling from him shifted. Before, it had been fire tainted by something darker. Now, the darkness had swallowed the fire whole. Demonic qi pulsed around him like a storm. It was thick, suffocating, and everything that made Chen Ren’s stomach tighten.

He watched the wounds across Shen Linao’s chest and side knit together, the irregular stone cracking and snapping as his body forced its way free. Blood still dripped, but already the flesh was closing, sealing as if time itself bent to his will.

He floated back into the sky.

His presence felt stronger than before, his silhouette looked monstrous against the flames, and when he spoke—his voice rumbled like a beast’s snarl.

“You were wrong, Xinyan. Bloody wrong. Did you think I, Shen Linao would fall to something like that? I am destined to climb beyond the heavens themselves. Nothing will stop me! Nothing!!”

Xinyan’s eyes narrowed. “The only place you are going is hell!”

Flames surged, chains snapping back into place as the sky lit up once more.

Chen Ren gritted his teeth as he watched. This time, the clash was different. Shen Linao’s movements were fluider than before, his demonic powers gave him the strength to press back against Xinyan’s might. The balance of the fight had shifted, and for the first time, Shen Linao’s strikes did not instantly crumble under the Sect Leader’s blows.

“Sect Leader Chen Ren… should we run? T-that.. What if Xinyan gets defeated?”

Chen Ren looked at Hong Yi who didn’t move his eyes from the firestorm in the sky, even with his face paled as a white sheet.

“You don’t have to worry,” Qing He said. “He won’t. That man is close to gaining a domain. He hasn’t even begun to show his true power. Moreover, Shen Linao is without his artifacts.”

“Wait,” Hong Yi said. “What does that mean?”

Yalan cut through the discussion. “After a certain realm, every cultivator relies on a set of artifacts. Against equals, natural strength isn’t enough, there’s an obvious gap between techniques and artifacts tip the balance. But Shen Linao… he never thought he’d face a true fight here. He didn’t bring them. A mistake that will, certainly, cost him dearly.”

“Xinyan also has none. He went into seclusion barehanded. But he doesn’t need them. This will end soon,” Qing He added, her eyes still fixed on the battle above,

Chen Ren said nothing, shifting his eyes from his group to the battle; which had long left weapons behind.

Flame and demonic qi crackled around their fists as the two titans closed the distance, hammering each other with pure strength. Blow after blow, the air split, tearing shockwaves into the gorge so violently that if not for the dome shielding them, Chen Ren and the others would’ve been swept away.

The punches that were being thrown at each other weren’t simple. Every punch carved new wounds into the land. Chunks of stone collapsed, splitting cliffs and turning the gorge into a furnace.

It looked like two living calamities tearing at each other.

And yet when Chen Ren looked closely, he saw a small glimpse at the waver of Shen Linao’s confidence. There was an unmistakable panic. Each time their fists collided, his eyes widened just a little, his teeth clenched a little tighter. He could mask it from the others, but now from someone who had learned to watch as he did.

Shen Linao was losing. He knew it.

Perhaps that was why, when Elder Xinyan surged forward with another barrage of crushing strikes, Shen Linao twisted away instead of meeting them. He shot upward, crossing the sky in zigzag arcs, dark fire trailing behind him.

Then, with both hands thrust out, he roared as spears of demonic qi formed in the air, lances that were blacker than night, and rained down toward Xinyan like a storm meant to pierce heaven itself.

But instead of pressing his assault, Shen Linao twisted his body and he darted higher into the sky.

The demonic cultivator wasn’t attacking anymore, he was running. He took advantage of Xinyan’s attention split between dodging the storm of lances, and shot straight for the gorge’s edge, no doubt hoping to escape.

He didn’t get far.

Ropes of fire—long, writhing strands that hissed like serpents—unfurled from Xinyan's palms as the skin surrounding them rippled and twisted strangely. With dazzling speed, they sped ahead, quickly covering the distance. As if giving birth to innumerable duplicates of themselves, the ropes broke and ripped apart as Shen Linao attempted to avoid, his body fading into afterimages. His momentum was ripped away when one snagged his ankle and then another.

His body was smashed down the next instant like a hammer on iron.

The gorge quaked as he was slammed into the cliffside. Blood splattered against the stone. Before he could even suck in air, he was yanked back and smashed again, rock shattering under the impact. Once. Twice. The echoes rolled through the canyon like thunder.

Xinyan pulled him close, the ropes coiling tighter, dragging the broken figure toward him.

Shen Linao looked less like a cultivator and more like a corpse strung on threads. His robes were shredded, his skin torn, blood pouring freely. Yet even in that state, his qi erupted once more. Demonic fire surged up around him, wild and furious, burning against the ropes. Chen Ren saw the strands begin to fray, their edges dissolving under the corrupt flames.

But they held long enough. Shen Linao’s body was forced close, brought within Xinyan’s shadow.

The sect leader’s expression hadn’t changed. He looked at the traitor before him with the same calm eyes.

“Stupid, stupid Shen Linao. It seems like you’ve become nothing more than a rat… a rat that only knows how to flee! I will kill you and your every kin!!”

The words struck deeper than the ropes. Chen Ren felt it, a shiver crawling down his spine before he even realized. His body trembled, breath catching, and when he glanced aside, Zi Wen and Hong Yi were the same—faces pale, limbs stiff.

Even Yalan’s posture shifted, her legs tightening, the faintest quiver betraying her. Qing He stood tall, but her toes pressed hard against the ground, the tension clear.

The next moment, it came.

A wave of power rolled out from Xinyan—vast, suffocating, endless. The air turned to fire. The gorge itself seemed to bend beneath it.

Shen Linao’s eyes widened, his roar cracking into panic. “No!!”

Right before Chen Ren’s eyes, everything changed. A dome burst into being, massive and consuming, expanding until it covered a quarter of the gorge. Inside, everything burned.

Flame swept across stone, across air, devouring everything as if a sun had been lowered into the canyon. The earth cracked, the sky itself seemed to scream, and within that fiery prison Shen Linao’s body writhed as the fire clung to him, eating him alive.

Only Xinyan stood untouched, wreathed in his own domain of flame.

Shen Linao screamed so loud that the rocks shook at how loud he was.

Chen Ren’s eyes widened as he watched the fire consume everything. Robes crumbled first, eaten away like paper in a furnace. Then flesh peeled back, blackening, breaking apart in chunks that drifted as ash. Even his demonic qi flared wildly, but the flames wrapped around it, devouring it too, as though corruption itself was fuel for Xinyan’s fire.

Shen Linao’s mouth opened again and again, but no words came. Only screams, echoing through the gorge until even those were smothered by the fire.

One by one, his body parts fell away—his toes scattering into ash, then his legs, his torso, his chest. His face contorted in agony until even his head collapsed into embers.

And then even the ash was not spared. It burned in the air, curling into nothing, leaving not a trace behind.

Chen Ren stood frozen, his mouth parted in disbelief. He had known Elder Xinyan was strong—he had hoped for it—but even then, he had never thought Shen Linao would fall so fast. A man who had ruled his sect with iron and flame, reduced to nothing in mere seconds.

Beside him, Qing He’s voice was quiet, almost lazy, though her eyes were sharp. “That’s an incomplete domain.”

Chen Ren turned toward her, his throat dry. “Incomplete? It felt like the whole world was burning.”

“It isn’t even half,” Qing He said. “At best, twenty percent of a true domain. A complete one would have swallowed this gorge… and the next two besides. And the weight of it would not be something you could even stand under. This,” she gestured toward the still-burning dome, “is impressive, but Xinyan is decades away from being a domain master.”

Chen Ren swallowed hard and gave a short nod, though his gaze was still locked on the sky. Slowly, the fiery dome unraveled, its edges flickering until it dissolved back into nothing, like a dream fading from the world.

Xinyan emerged, his flames subdued, his figure calm once more. Yet his face was not triumphant. He frowned, his eyes sweeping over the gorge. Around them, Blazing Ember disciples lay scattered—many dead, others unconscious, none unscathed.

Then, at last, his gaze shifted.

Those eyes turned toward Chen Ren.

Chen Ren froze, his chest tightening as the weight of that glance pressed against him. For a heartbeat, his body forgot how to move, how to breathe.

Then the thought settled in.

We’re not friends. But neither are we enemies.

He forced himself to stand tall, meeting the sect leader’s gaze as the gorge fell into silence.

Xinyan might have been the strongest cultivator Chen Ren had ever seen, but he wasn’t reckless. A man of such power didn’t move without thought. Chen Ren knew this was his moment—he had played a part in freeing his sect from the demonic cultivators, and he still held cards unseen.

So when Xinyan floated closer, Chen Ren stepped forward as well, bowing his head slightly. “I am Chen Ren, sect leader of the Divine Coin Sect.”

Xinyan paused, his eyes narrowing. For a heartbeat, he looked genuinely puzzled. “I don’t think you’re strong enough for me to be having this conversation with.”

From the side, Qing He’s voice cut in smoothly, almost chiding. “You shouldn’t underestimate young cultivators.”

Xinyan turned his gaze back on Chen Ren. A faint frown lingered across his face, but after a moment he gave a short nod. “Fine. I see that damn bastard caused you no small amount of trouble.”

“A little. He only asked for my head.”

“Qing He didn’t tell me much. Only that my sect had been taken over by demonic cultivators, and that if I didn’t act, she would.” His gaze grew sharp, burning through Chen Ren. “But I want to hear the full story. What happened here?”

Chen Ren exhaled slowly. He had hoped to avoid spilling every detail, but there was no slipping away from that piercing gaze. He began to explain.

He told of the vault, of the disciples they had faced, of the signs of demonic corruption that had spread through the Blazing Ember Sect. He painted them darker, more twisted than they were—careful brushstrokes of subtle manipulation. Wang Jun’s name never left his lips; that entire thread was erased, folded away.

But the heart of it remained. Shen Linao’s greed, the corruption among his disciples, the battles they had fought.

By the time his words faded, the gorge was once again silent save for the faint crackle of lingering flames.

Xinyan stood there, unmoving, scratching at his beard as though trying to wrestle sense out of the tale. His brows drew tight, his lips pressing into a thin line. For once, the man who had just reduced a sect regent to ash looked… at a loss for words.

Chen Ren stood patiently, his hands behind his back, waiting for the judgment that would follow.

It was finally time to see whether this old man was truly different from Shen Linao, or if he was only another wolf in robes. Killing the regent already placed him higher in Chen Ren’s eyes, but that wasn’t saying much. Chen Ren trusted no older cultivator.

“So everyone in Void Blade Sect is dead, then? Those old goats—all of them?”

“Only one remains. And she’s a mortal. There may be others who fled, but I don’t know.”

For the briefest instant, Chen Ren thought he saw something soften—faint sadness flickering across the man’s face. But it vanished in a heartbeat, swallowed by a growl as the man cursed.

“Damn it. I had a dozen favors still hanging with them. That Shen Linao ruined everything.” His eyes narrowed again. “You said you fought a demonic cultivator in that vault too?”

“Yes, Elder Xinyan. Only one, but I’m sure there are more. From what I’ve seen, Shen Linao took over the entire sect while you were away.”

“Seems like he did…” His tone was low, grim. Then his eyes lifted back to Chen Ren. “Did you complain to the empire?”

Before Chen Ren could answer, Qing He’s voice cut in from behind, sharp with disdain.

“Do you think that bastard wouldn’t have watchers in the capital? Every letter, every seal would have been in his hands within a week. If we had reached out, he would’ve known immediately.”

Xinyan turned his gaze toward her, considering, then gave a slow nod. “So. The empire doesn’t know.” His expression hardened. “If they did, this would be far worse.”

“How so?”

Hong Yi froze the moment the words left his lips, realizing too late who he had questioned. His face went pale as Xinyan’s burning eyes swung toward him.

For a moment, silence stretched thin as wire. Then the man answered, his voice carrying the weight of inevitability. “Because I wouldn’t even have time to clean my own house before the inquisitors came storming in. And once they move… they don’t leave embers. They turn everything to ash.”

Chen Ren straightened his back, forcing his voice to remain steady.

“You don’t have to worry about that.” He paused, then added firmly, “until you promise to leave us alone.”

“Oh, really?” Xinyan narrowed his eyes deeply.

“Yes, we helped you. If we hadn’t told you what was happening, Shen Linao would have destroyed everything you’ve built while you sat in seclusion.”

A low rumble came from the old man. “And also killed you. Don’t twist this. You did it to save yourselves.”

“We did.” Chen Ren gave a small nod, not backing down. “But that doesn’t change the truth. In the end, we still did you a favor. And I don’t think either of us gains anything by fighting each other now.”

Xinyan’s face darkened, but he didn’t lash out. Instead, he folded his arms. “I see your point. But what about everything you took? Blazing Ember Sect’s rightful property?”

Chen Ren’s lips curved faintly. “When demonic cultivators are involved, nothing is ‘rightful property’ anymore. Not by law, not by the heavens. You know that as well as I do.”

Before Xinyan could respond, Qing He’s voice rang out from behind.

“He’s right, Xinyan. We’ve already done you a greater favor than you realize, pulling the rot out of your sect. If you try to take too much from us now, even the heavens won’t look kindly on you.”

Xinyan clicked his tongue, his eyes shifting between them. For a long moment, he was in thought. Then, finally, he let out a rough exhale.

“I suppose… you are right.”

His gaze lingered on Chen Ren and the others, sharp enough to cut. “I will let you go for now. I have too much work to do in my sect. Parasites to burn, roots to rip out, and answers to find. I need to know how they crawled their way inside my house.” Then he locked eyes with Chen Ren, his stare heavy, leaving no space for doubt.

“I will remember your face.”

Those words sent a shiver down his spine for some reason. But before he could respond properly, Xinyan’s gaze shifted to Qing He. for the first time, his voice softened.

“And I thank you, Qing He.”

Qing He nodded.

In the next second, flames surged around his legs, wrapping around him. With a single step, he rose into the air, and within moments, he was gone.

The silence he left behind weighed heavier than his presence had.

***

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