The night sky over the ruins boiled with black clouds, lit by flashes of red lightning. Quinn stood on the shattered rooftop, his eyes glowing like molten rubies, the wind tearing at his cloak. Around him, shadow wisps coiled and writhed, reacting to the bloodlust radiating from his core.
Below, the enemy forces swarmed—dozens of corrupted cultivators, their qi twisted by dark magic. They moved like a black tide, their eyes feral, their mouths chanting in an ancient tongue that made the air vibrate.
Quinn flexed his fingers, feeling the familiar surge of power. Shadow Control. Blood Manipulation. Qi Burst. He would use all three—no holding back.
The first wave leapt up toward him, blades dripping with cursed energy. Quinn's body blurred, vanishing from sight. A heartbeat later, he was behind them, his hand piercing through one man's chest. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc before it solidified midair, Quinn's will shaping it into razor-sharp needles that shot into three more enemies.
Screams cut through the night.
But there was no time to savor the moment. A massive cultivator, nearly seven feet tall, landed in front of Quinn with a thunderous crash. His aura flared with gold and black qi—a dangerous hybrid technique.
"You're strong," the man growled, swinging his war hammer with bone-crushing force.
Quinn didn't dodge. Instead, his shadows surged upward, forming a dense wall that caught the blow. The impact shattered the shadow barrier, but it gave Quinn enough time to vanish again, reappearing at the man's flank. His hand glowed crimson, and he drove it into the warrior's ribs.
Blood Extraction!
The man roared in pain as streams of blood burst from his pores, swirling into Quinn's hand before solidifying into a jagged blade. With a single slash, Quinn decapitated him, his body collapsing like a felled tree.
From the far side of the battlefield, an eerie chant rose—deeper, darker than before. Quinn turned to see a hooded figure hovering above the ground, a black sphere of energy forming in his palms.
"That," Quinn muttered, "looks like trouble."
The sphere expanded, devouring light, pulling in debris, stones, and even corpses. A gravitational pull tugged at Quinn's body, threatening to drag him in.
He dug his heels into the rooftop, qi flowing into his legs, anchoring him in place. Shadows burst from his feet, latching onto the building itself to resist the pull.
The hooded figure's voice boomed like a thousand whispers. "Quinn Talen. The Shadows bow to me."
Quinn smirked. "Let's test that theory."
He unleashed Shadow Phase, his body dissolving into a swirling mass of darkness that shot across the field, bypassing the pull entirely. He emerged behind the caster, driving his blood-forged blade toward the man's spine.
But the figure was fast—too fast. The caster spun, palm glowing with black qi, and slammed it into Quinn's chest. The force sent him flying through three stone walls, dust and rubble burying him.
For a moment, everything was silent except the ringing in Quinn's ears. Pain radiated through his ribs, but it only fed the hunger inside him. He pushed himself up, wiping blood from his lips, his eyes now glowing with a deeper crimson.
"Alright…" he growled, "you want my full strength? You'll regret it."
His qi exploded outward, mixing with his shadow energy. The sky itself seemed to warp, the clouds spiraling into a vortex. Blood seeped from the corpses on the field, rising into the air like a crimson storm.
The hooded figure's chanting faltered.
Quinn stepped forward, the storm swirling around him, his voice calm but deadly. "I am not the one who bows."
The blood around him hardened into hundreds of spears. With a single flick of his hand, they rained down like divine judgment.
The battlefield was consumed in screams.
And Quinn kept walking forward.