Chapter Eleven: Beneath the Flames, Beneath the Blood
The air was heavy.
Thicker than before. Not just with blood and Qi—but with dread.
The Bloodroot Expanse was a nightmare pretending to be a forest. Every step Andras took through the warped terrain reminded him this wasn't part of the Verdant world he knew. The red-stained foliage swayed to winds that never touched his skin. Roots twisted like veins across the soil, and the sky overhead—if you could call it a sky—bled violet hues that pulsed like a heartbeat.
System Alert: Caution: Three hostile cultivators nearby. Estimated ranks: 3rd–5th Stage Qi Gathering.
Soul Integrity: 44%… 43%…
He didn't care.
Not about the ranks.
Not about the numbers.
Not about the souls.
He only cared about survival.
A figure stumbled through the undergrowth ahead—a boy barely older than him. Wild eyes, panicked gasps, and a shaking sword. He was probably running from someone else. Or something.
Andras didn't hesitate.
He moved.
No flair. No sound.
His hand gripped the boy's throat, and with a whisper of black flame, the boy dropped like a puppet with its strings severed.
Another one lunged from behind. A girl, dagger gleaming.
He pivoted smoothly, elbow striking her temple. As she staggered, he swept her legs, then brought his heel down on her neck. A sickening crunch echoed in the trees.
The third ran.
He didn't get far.
A flicker of black Qi surged from Andras's hand and pierced the man's spine.
Silence returned.
System Prompt:+3 Skill PointsBloodroot Arena Kill Count: 4
Caution: Vital Qi depleted by 13%. Recommend rest or passive regeneration.
Soul Integrity: 41%…
"...You're killing them like they're nothing," John whispered inside him.
Andras didn't respond.
Because it wasn't worth a response.
They were nothing. At least, that's what he kept telling himself. The weaker ones would die anyway. He was just accelerating inevitability.
But as his steps grew quieter, and his kills grew cleaner, John screamed louder in his head. This wasn't survival. This was something else.
He ducked into a crevice of jagged stone, crouching low. His breath came sharp. His fingers twitched with lingering flame. His body screamed for rest, but the system kept him upright.
Scanning… Searching for hostile threats…
"ERROR."
"Threat exceeds scan parameters."
Andras froze.
"...What?"
Then he heard it.
A low hum.
Like thunder murmuring beneath the ground.
Then silence.
Then—
BOOM.
A tree exploded not far from him. Bark splintered. Branches shot through the air like shrapnel.
The sound was too sharp.
Too clean.
Too deliberate.
Andras didn't look.
He ran.
And the sky screamed behind him.
Trees blurred past.
His legs ached, each step heavier than the last.
The pressure behind him wasn't visible, but it was there. Like gravity had turned on him. Like the world itself wanted him gone.
Not Qi Gathering.
Not Foundation.
This was Gold Core.
"Gold Core…" John whispered, terrified."We can't win."
"We're not going to try," Andras snapped back.
There was no argument this time.
Because this wasn't a fight.
This was a hunt.
And he was prey.
He ducked through thorns, slid beneath fallen trunks, and leapt across blood-soaked roots. His heart pounded like war drums, and still, the weight grew closer.
Then he saw it.
A river.
Crimson.
It didn't shimmer like water.
It oozed.
Bubbles broke the surface, releasing faint whispers—like voices trapped beneath the surface.
He didn't stop to wonder.
He dove headfirst into the current.
Submersion.
The moment the blood closed over him, the world muted.
The oppressive pressure of the Gold Core cultivator vanished like fog behind a sealed door.
He let his body go limp.
His breath slowed.
His heart fluttered, then steadied.
The system dimmed.
"Initiating corpse simulation: Life signs suppressed."
He floated.
Drifting through the viscous red.
A broken branch bumped against his hip.
A whisper passed his ear. It sounded like his name—but distorted, twisted.
He didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
Time slowed.
Finally, after what felt like hours, the pressure faded completely.
They were gone.
He waited another full minute before opening his eyes.
The sky above was still bleeding violet.
The river had carried him far downstream.
John exhaled inside him.
"That was… smart."
Andras didn't speak. But internally, there was a flicker of amusement. A rare alignment between them.
Then he reached for the edge of the river.
And hands grabbed him.
He was yanked from the blood and slammed onto the riverbank.
The cold was instant.
A hand like iron closed around his neck.
He gasped, blood still on his lips.
And then—
He saw her.
A woman.
No—a vision.
No—a nightmare.
She wore a long red dress. Blood clung to her in slow rivulets, yet not a drop stained the fabric. Her hair shimmered like strands of wine, flowing unnaturally. Her eyes…
They weren't human.
Ancient. Endless. Intelligent. Hungry.
Her presence radiated pressure. More refined than the Gold Core hunter. But deeper. Rooted.
Andras's limbs twitched. He couldn't move.
"The flames," she said gently. "That's not something you should be able to do."
Her voice was like silk dragged across glass.
So calm.
So… wrong.
John and Andras froze.
For the first time in hours, there was no arguing.
Only a singular survival instinct.
Andras gave control to John—something he hadn't done willingly in days.
John took it slowly.
His voice cracked once, but he swallowed and steadied.
"It's an art I learned by chance," he lied. "A monk taught me. I don't even know what it's called."
She tilted her head slightly.
She didn't loosen her grip.
But she didn't kill him.
She was watching.
Listening.
Testing.
Andras could feel it.
Her fingers twitched—ever so slightly—and pain bloomed in his neck.
She could snap him without effort.
And she knew it.
Soul Integrity: 41%... 40%... 39%...
John held the gaze. Tried to look calm. Truthful. Helpless but not groveling.
Andras reinforced the posture from within—no muscle twitch, no hostile intent.
A delicate balance.
But the woman's eyes narrowed.
The pressure on his neck grew.
Steady. Cold. Suffocating.
His vision blurred.
John's heart spiked.
Andras's Qi flared instinctively—
"No! Don't fight—"
Too late.
The woman frowned.
Not in anger.
But in disappointment.
And then—
Darkness.
System Alert: Vital signs: Stable
Consciousness: Lost
Soul Integrity: 39%... 38%...
Warning: Fragmentation Threshold Nearing. Identity Core Unstable .Suggest Immediate Reintegration.
Somewhere deep within the unconscious void—
John saw himself.
Alone.
Sitting in a hallway made of flame and glass.
He looked up—and saw Andras.
Not fused.
Separate.
Staring back at him.
Neither said a word.
Between them, the floor cracked.
A vast abyss.
Beneath it, the blood of the river still flowed.
Endless.