Ye Long and his kin surged into the central square, met by a throng of frantic clansmen, their faces pale and sweat-slicked. "Patriarch, Divine Spirit Realm warriors have us surrounded!" one shouted, his voice cracking like brittle glass, hands twisting the hem of his tunic.
"Commander Lin's gone—his men, reduced to dust! What now?" another wailed, clutching his spear so tightly the wood creaked, knuckles bone-white.
Ye Long's gaze lifted, his blood chilling, a cold current numbing his fingertips. The mansion stood captive, encircled by spectral figures radiating lethal intent, their jagged shadows stretching across the square.
'Divine Spirit Realm… as mere foot soldiers?' His mind spun, disbelief crashing against his reason. 'What force commands such power?' Fear clawed his chest, sharp and unyielding, but as patriarch, his will held firm.
Drawing a steadying breath, the air heavy with dust and metal, he called out, "Honored guests," his voice steady despite the tremor in his soul, "I know not how our Ye Family has offended you. Step forth and enlighten us!"
From the ranks stepped a figure cloaked in night-black robes, their edges rippling like liquid shadow. Nie You's weathered face bore scars of countless battles—jagged lines crisscrossing his brow and cheeks. His coarse beard framed a stone-hewn jaw, unyielding, while his dark eyes gleamed with detached menace, sending a shiver through the air. His battalion dipped in silent reverence, their armor clinking softly.
"I am Commander Nie You, servant of Young Master Qin Ting of the Xuantian Sect," he declared, his voice a sharp, cold blade. "I speak his will. Kneel to honor it."
A torrent of Divine Platform Realm power erupted from Nie You, a crushing wave that slammed every Ye clansman to the ground with a bone-jarring thud. The cobblestones dug into Ye Long's knees as he buckled, the air thick with subjugation, stealing his breath. Even he, a Divine Spirit Realm cultivator, felt his strength wane, limbs trembling under the oppressive weight.
Whispers of "Qin Ting" and "Xuantian Sect" swept through Qincheng like wind through dry leaves—True Disciple, heir to Emperor Qin, a name that shook the Eastern Wilderness with his swift rise to Divine Spirit Realm. A god among mortals, his shadow cast from the Skyspire's gilded heights.
Breathless, Ye Long rasped through gritted teeth, "Servant of Young Master Qin! I had no notion it was you! How have we crossed your master?" His voice cracked, defiance warring with the terror pooling in his gut.
Nie You's lips curled into a cruel sneer, baring his teeth as he unfurled a scroll with a flourish. The parchment rustled, its gilded seal glinting with Qin Ting's mark—a coiled dragon in molten gold.
"By order of Young Master Qin Ting," Nie You intoned, his voice a silken whisper laced with venom, "I am here to investigate Qincheng and the Ye Family. Ye Qiu's defiance has tarnished your name, and though he is gone, his transgressions linger. The nine familial exterminations loom, a shadow that compliance may yet dispel."
His words hung like a guillotine's blade. Behind him, the Death Guards stormed Ye Mansion like a flood of shadowed qi, their armored forms radiating a chilling aura. Walls shattered under blasts of dark energy, jade screens dissolved into glittering dust, and ancestral altars toppled with thunderous crashes. Every hidden chamber and spiritual array was scoured with ruthless precision, as if the mansion hid a profane secret.
"However," Nie You pressed, his gaze a glacial spear pinning the Ye clansmen, "it is not mere defiance we seek. Ye Qiu walked the demonic path, a heretic your clan sheltered. Unveil his accomplices. Deny me, and your silence will cost rivers of blood."
Ye Long's spirit shuddered, his core trembling as grief and dread collided. "Qiu'er—dead?" The revelation pierced him like a soul-rending sword, memories of his son's blazing aura flashing through his mind—now extinguished, a star turned to ash.
But Nie You's accusation cut deeper, its barbs hooking his resolve. "Demonic path? Accomplices?" His voice wavered, disbelief buckling under mounting terror.
Nie You leaned closer, his breath a frigid gust laced with malevolent qi, brushing Ye Long's ear like a curse. "Point them out. Prove your loyalty to Young Master Qin and the Xuantian Sect, and some may yet survive."
Suspicion flared among the clansmen, a spark of corrupted qi igniting their fearful gazes. "Demonic path?" a wiry cousin muttered, fingers tracing a glowing talisman in his sleeve, its faint hum pulsing with unease.
"Ye Qiu was our pride…" another hissed, clutching a jade pendant flickering with protective runes. "Who hid his darkness? Who nurtured his sins?" Nie You's decree fanned the flames, each word a spark sundering their bonds.
"It's you!" an uncle roared, his voice a sonic boom as he unleashed a torrent of blazing qi. The fiery dragon spiraled toward a nephew, who countered with a shimmering shield conjured from a silver mirror treasure. The collision erupted in sparks, scorching the air with burnt spirit essence.
"Lies!" the nephew spat, hurling razor-sharp wind blades from his sleeves, edged with Verdant Gale Art. The elder raised a gnarled staff, its tip glowing with earthen light, summoning a stone wall to deflect the assault, the ground quaking beneath.
Accusations exploded like a breached spirit vein, terror twisting kin into foes. "Traitor!" a son bellowed, channeling his Crimson Lotus Technique into a blazing lotus that engulfed his uncle in a roaring inferno. The man screamed as his robes ignited, his counterattack—a spear of icy qi from a frost relic—piercing the son's chest, freezing his blood in crimson shards.
"You're the heretic!" a sister shrieked, her fingers weaving seals to summon a spectral serpent from her Soulbinding Scroll. The beast lunged, sinking phantom fangs into her brother's neck, venomous qi corroding his meridians as he howled, retaliating with a Thunderclap Blade slash that split the air with a crack.
The square became a maelstrom of divine arts and clashing treasures, the air thick with spent qi and ruptured souls. Each strike was a desperate bid for survival, cultivation turned inward in paranoia. Ye Long stood rooted, his spirit core trembling as his family tore itself apart.
The tide turned against him—Ye Qiu's father, the patriarch who had raised their "demon."
"Your spawn brought this!" a cousin roared, summoning a storm of obsidian needles from his Shadowsting Array. The barrage pierced Ye Long's thighs and arms, each needle pulsing with dark qi that sapped his vitality.
"You've doomed us!" an aunt snarled, her Phoenix Ember Fan unleashing a wave of searing flame. The fire scorched Ye Long's flank, his robes disintegrating as the heat blistered his flesh, agony searing through his qi-shielded skin. A nephew followed, his Stormcaller Orb unleashing a bolt of lightning that shattered Ye Long's shoulder with a crackling explosion.
"Cease this madness!" Ye Long roared, his Patriarch's Command Art pulsing with peak Divine Spirit Realm power. The sound staggered weaker clansmen, but it was fleeting. His kin descended like vengeful spirits.
A golden spear from an uncle's Sunpiercer Lance impaled his leg, pinning him; a cousin's Bloodreaver Chains coiled around his arms, draining his essence. Steel and qi rained down—swords wreathed in frost, talismans bursting with corrosive mist, divine arts tearing at his meridians. With a broken cry, Ye Long unleashed his Dragon's Lament Technique, a spectral dragon shielding him.
But a nephew, eyes wild with terror, swung a Heavenrend Axe imbued with astral force, cleaving through the dragon and severing Ye Long's head in one brutal stroke. The patriarch's head rolled across the stones, eyes locked in anguish and betrayal, qi fading from his lifeless form.
The slaughter continued. Paranoia reignited, and survivors turned on one another. "You struck him first—you're the guiltiest!" a cousin screamed, his Earthshatter Gauntlet splitting the cobblestones, crushing his sister's ribs as she crumpled, blood spraying.
"He meant to betray us!" an elder bellowed, hurling glowing orbs from his Starfall Pouch. The projectiles melted a young clansman's flesh, his screams echoing as he vanished with Shadowveil Step, reappearing to drive a dagger into the elder's gut.
A mother unleashed her Tears of the Moon, silver droplets piercing her daughter's chest, lunar qi shredding her meridians. The girl retaliated with her Spiritflame Lantern, engulfing them both in violet fire, their silhouettes consumed.
The square became a battlefield of shattered arrays and spent treasures, bodies strewn amid glowing blood and ash. Divine arts clashed—thunder roared, flames danced, spectral forms wailed—as the Ye Family's heritage crumbled.
Only a handful remained, robes scorched and dripping with luminous gore, qi flickering like dying embers. They fell prostrate before Nie You, thrusting Ye Long's severed head forward, its aura dissipating.
"Mercy, lord!" a woman sobbed, tears mingling with blood and qi on her face. "We've purged the guilty—he led Ye Qiu astray! Spare us!"
A man, his arm trembling from a severed meridian, pressed his forehead to the ground. "We've proven our loyalty—take his head, take their sins, let us live!"
Nie You's smile was a cruel crescent. "Very well," he purred, his voice a velvet shroud over the devastation. With a sweep of his robes, he ascended to the Skyspire, his Death Guards trailing like phantoms, their qi a fading whisper. The Ye remnants wept in fragile reprieve, their sobs mingling with the wind carrying the stench of blood, ash, and shattered divinity across the ravaged square.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
Aboard the Skyspire, Nie You knelt before a throne of jade and gold, its dragon-carved arms shimmering in the dim light. Qin Ting reclined within, his tall frame draped in amethyst robes, golden threads catching the glow of floating orbs, casting glints across his form.
His pale, flawless face held high cheekbones and a jaw sharp as steel. His hair, perfectly combed, framed his features like a masterpiece. His sapphire eyes, vivid and calculating, weighed every soul like coins on a scale. He sipped tea from a porcelain cup, its floral scent clashing with the distant reek of destruction.
"All proceeded as you willed, Young Master," Nie You said, his voice low, a dark pride sharpening his words. "I led the Death Guards to scour the Ye Mansion and Qincheng for Ye Qiu's relics or secrets."
"I found nothing of worth," he continued, disdain curling his tone. "The clan turned on itself, suspecting demonic ties as per your edict. They're yours to judge."
Qin Ting's gaze flickered, a predator's glint piercing his serene mask. Ye Qiu's defiance lingered in his mind, a splinter of wounded pride—a rival who might have held a forbidden artifact. Finding none, he gave a languid shrug. "A slight pity, nothing more. So be it." His voice, silk and steel, carried a king's authority. "Reduce Qincheng Province to ashes—let no soul remain."
Nie You's face remained stone, eyes empty of emotion. He bowed, his beard grazing the floor, then rose with a sharp flick of his wrist. "As you command, Young Master," he rasped, turning to the artillery crew. "Gunners! Ready the cannons! Let the heavens weep and the earth bleed—fire at my mark!"
The crew moved with precision, clanking metal and hissed commands filling the air. The Skyspire's cannons hummed, their rune-etched barrels glowing with crimson fury capable of shattering mountains.
Nie You paced, his boots ringing. "Aim for Qincheng's heart! Leave no stone, no breath—unleash it now!"
A whine built, erupting into a roar as the cannons fired. Golden beams lanced downward, their brilliance searing the sky. Qin Ting leaned forward, teacup in hand, a chilling smile on his lips.
Below, the Ye survivors felt the air shift, hope souring into despair. "No… he swore mercy!" a woman shrieked, clutching Ye Long's severed head, its lifeless eyes accusing the heavens. Her fingers clawed the blood-matted hair, her wails drowned by the storm.
The first volley struck Ye Mansion, its spires exploding. Walls crumbled into dust, jade shattering into glittering shards before vanishing in the inferno. Flesh melted, stone vaporized, the heat leaving a tang of charred bone. Screams faded as the bombardment swelled.
Qincheng buckled. Rooftops splintered, streets liquefied into molten rivers swallowing figures whole. A man clutching the Ye sigil fell, a beam bursting his chest, the banner igniting. A mother shielding her child gasped as a blast consumed them, their forms ash for a heartbeat.
An elder, eyes on the Skyspire, rasped, "Ye Qiu… your shadow doomed us…" His body disintegrated, his curse scattering. The barrage became a tempest. Rivers boiled, hills melted, villages vanished, forests collapsed into embers. The air thickened with burning flesh and splintered wood.
A lad clutching a broken sword screamed as a beam erased him, his blood painting the ground before the heat consumed it. The province became a blackened scar, silent save for crackling flames.
Qin Ting set his teacup down, the clink sharp. A cold smirk played on his lips. "Mongrels, crushed as they deserve," he said, his voice a whisper over the carnage.
He chuckled, tracing the cup's rim, savoring the destruction. Defiance equaled extinction, and he relished the proof below. Nie You inclined his head, a hollow vessel of destruction. The plan had unfurled—Ye Qiu's blood tore itself apart, Qin Ting's dominance unchallenged.
Elder Liu stood beside Qin Ting, his silver beard flowing, fingers weaving through it. "The Young Master's resolve shines as a pillar of wisdom and power," he declared, his voice reverent. "Such determination will etch a warning into history for any who oppose the Qin Family."
Nie You glanced at the elder, his face impassive. Below, the Skyspire loomed, its cannons cooling with faint hisses, a god-machine sated by the slaughter.