Two goons huddled together in the dimly lit storage house, their breath visible in the frigid air despite the lack of winter. The place smelled like rotten rice wine and regret, but that didn't stop the duo from gossiping like aunties at a market stall.
"I'm telling you, boss turned Bat-Man into a popsicle," the first goon said, rubbing his hands together for warmth. "One touch. Just like that. The guy's wings froze mid-flap, and he face-planted into the ground like a dead pigeon."
The second goon cackled. "Yeah? And then that bounty hunter beat Bat-Man to death with the dwarf. He clubbed him to death—literally! The dwarf's still in the infirmary screaming about his spinal column."
They both burst out laughing, the sound echoing against the storage house walls.
"I swear," the first goon wiped a tear from his eye, "that bounty hunter's insane, but he's dead meat. Zhou Kai's already on his trail."
"Zhou Kai?" The second goon's voice dropped to a reverent hush. "The seven-meridian genius? He's only twenty-five and already that strong. It's like he was born to cultivate water techniques."
The first goon nodded so hard it looked like his head might fall off. "Yeah, but even Zhou Kai isn't the scariest one. The boss is a monster in human skin. A demon wearing flesh. You see what he did to that rogue cultivator last week? Froze his guts from the inside out just because he sneezed during a meeting."
The second goon shivered, and not just from the cold. "I heard the rogue died with a perfect ice sculpture of his intestines sitting next to his corpse."
Before their conversation could spiral further into grotesque folklore, the door to the storage house creaked open. A figure stepped inside, gait casual, eyes glued to an old manual. It was the bounty hunter.
He walked like he owned the place, casually flipping pages in the Moonshadow Pavilion water technique manual he'd picked up earlier. He couldn't possibly learn water magic in mere minutes—but he didn't need to. The modern techniques described in the manual shattered the plateau he'd hit in his self-made telekinesis technique.
The air around him subtly warped. Objects lifted off the ground—boxes, stray pieces of wood, even a rusted dagger—and lazily floated around him like planets orbiting a sun.
One of the goons dropped his weapon. "Oh, shit."
He didn't even look up from the manual. "Which way to Zhou Kai?" he asked, voice dripping with nonchalance, as the floating dagger gently spun in place, glinting menacingly in the dim light.
Blades pressed against the necks of each henchman, their pulses thrumming with fear as they led the way. One of them, hands trembling, reached for a rusted lever hidden behind a stack of rotting crates. With a heavy clank, the wall groaned and slid open, revealing a spiraling staircase that led into the underground.
They descended for what seemed like twenty endless minutes. The air thickened with rot and mildew, the distant sound of dripping water echoing like a heartbeat. At the bottom, they emerged into a dungeon that reeked of decay and despair. The walls were slick with moisture, chains dangling like forgotten memories.
finally tore his eyes from the manual, tucking it away as he stepped into the heart of corruption. His gaze locked onto a crate — cracked open just enough to reveal a human body suspended in a glistening bubble of water. The figure was alive, chest rising and falling in slow, unnatural rhythms. The water spell restrained them completely, yet allowed them to breathe, unconscious and defenseless.
A voice dripped through the silence like venom.
"Finally here, hmm? Wei Feng from the Blood Eyes... since you've come all this way, why not stay?" The stairs behind them dissolved into mist, and the two henchmen's eyes bulged in horror before their hearts ruptured within their chests. They collapsed like broken dolls.
"Heart parasites," Wei feng cursed internally, blood pounding in his ears.
A man stepped into view, his blue robes rippling like liquid. He smirked, eyes sharp as knives.
"I am Zhou Kai, a professor at the Moonlight Pavilion," he said, voice cold and amused.
Zhou Kai turned his back to the guest, approaching the water-bound body — a young woman. He raised his hand, revealing a stone as red as a fresh wound, pulsating like a living heart. The stone's glow intensified, tendrils of crimson energy weaving through the water and into the woman's skin.
The coffin against the far wall creaked open.
An old woman crawled out, her limbs contorted and cracking back into place as she stood. Her eyes gleamed with ravenous hunger. As the stone pulsed faster, her withered form lifted, spectral threads connecting her to the young woman's body.
"Possession," Wei Feng realized, fists clenching. The stone wasn't just a tool — it was the anchor for the old woman's soul.
Without hesitation, the wei feng lashed out with his telekinesis, hurling blades and shards of debris at Zhou Kai. Knives screamed through the air, but before they could find flesh, a translucent water barrier surged up, deflecting each attack with a lazy ripple. Zhou Kai didn't even flinch, focused entirely on the ritual.
The other coffins snapped open.
Twisted creatures crawled free — remnants of ancient, failed experiments. A horned beast with jagged bones protruding from its limbs, a humanoid figure stitched together from multiple corpses, and a serpent-like monstrosity that slithered along the ceiling.
They lunged.
Wei Feng dodged, narrowly avoiding claws and teeth, his telekinesis snatching broken weapons from the ground. The room became a whirlwind of blades and flesh, a battle raging like something out of hell itself. The creatures pressed in, relentless, while the red stone's glow grew blinding.
He moved, hurling himself to the side as claws slashed where he'd been standing a heartbeat before. He lashed out, sending wooden splinters and chunks of stone flying like bullets. He snapped a finger, ripping a coffin lid free and using it as a makeshift shield to block an incoming claw swipe.
A creature with spider limbs skittered along the ceiling, drooling acid. Wei Feng spun, flinging shards of metal upward, piercing its body. It screeched, fell, but another beast was already in its place.
He grit his teeth, adrenaline blazing. He wasn't dying here — not without tearing this place apart first.
And Zhou Kai, untouched, smiled.