Yuyan stared at the shadowy silhouette in pure terror. Slowly, it began to manifest into the form of a man cloaked in darkness.
"Oh… little, little blood," the figure sneered, his voice like gravel. "You shouldn't have woken up at all."
He stepped forward, his presence cold and suffocating.
"You weren't supposed to survive. I have to admit, you're strong—stronger than most. Not only did you survive the curse that would've killed any ordinary person instantly, but you even lived for two whole years. Granted, you were in a coma, but still… even after I gave you an extra dose, you didn't die. And now here you are—awake."
He tilted his head in amusement. "You're quite the strange one, little blood."
Yuyan listened quietly, her mind racing. I need to escape. But one look at his calm expression and pitch-black aura confirmed her worst suspicion—he was no ordinary assassin.
Yǐng Dào cultivator, she guessed, recalling from her Webtoon and novel knowledge. They're born blind, train by sensing qi, and "see" through shadows. They gain actual sight after reaching the Nascent Soul Realm—but even then, they prefer to fight with their eyes closed.
His movements were sharp but fluid. His presence gave nothing away. Yuyan watched him with quiet dread, her guess growing more and more likely.
He's from the Heavenly Dao Sect. No… not from them—sent by them.
She glanced at the door. It was locked from the outside. No help would come.
Trying to stay calm, she took a few steps toward the window.
"So… what's your name, mister?" she asked lightly, stalling. "And what realm are you in?"
The man chuckled.
"Well, since you're about to die by my hand, I suppose it's only fair you know the name of the one who'll end your short second life."
He stepped forward, his aura tightening.
"I am Chen Moyun, disciple of the Yin Mochen Sect. And I—young bloodflame—am at the peak of the Golden Core Realm."
Yuyan's stomach dropped.
Golden Core… and peak stage, no less…
That realm was just below Nascent Soul, but for a Yǐng Dào cultivator, it was already deadly. They could manipulate Phantom Binding Threads—invisible, razor-thin strands of shadow qi that could split midair like spider silk and form a hidden web domain.
If he's set that up, I'm already walking in a trap.
Despite her fear, Yuyan kept her face composed. I can't afford to die. Not again.
Chen Moyun raised his hand. The shadows thickened.
"This web…" he said, relishing every word, "will be the stage for your agony. You'll scream before you die."
Suddenly, Yuyan felt her body being pulled—subtly, like threads wrapped around her limbs. She winced and clenched her teeth.
I can't move too much… or I'll trigger the threads.
Desperate, she sliced her palm with one of the threads, blood dripping onto the floor.
"Foolish child," Chen said, smirking. "You're in my domain. Every movement you make is a mistake. But do continue—it'll make your death all the more satisfying."
But he didn't realize what Yuyan had discovered.
Blood responds to me.
As it dripped from her hand, she focused. She imagined a weapon—a small, diamond-shaped dagger—and in her palm, the blood congealed and hardened, shaped by her will.
A weapon born of blood and imagination.
It wasn't perfect. It drained her energy, and she could feel the toll it took. But it was real—and sharp.
She charged.
Chen dodged easily, laughing. "Nice try, little one."
Yuyan wasn't discouraged. He's fast… but not invincible.
She noticed something.
Every time he dodged, he removed some of the Phantom Threads. Curious, she feigned another attack. He moved—and the thread shifted.
He's toying with me. He could've killed me already—but he wants to play.
Fine. She'd use that.
She attacked again and again, driving him back, each strike laced with wild, childlike rage. He evaded gracefully, unaware that she was steering him toward the window.
Her final lunge was wild, reckless—aimed at his face. He ducked with a smirk, about to counterattack.
"You really thought such tricks would be enough—?"
But before he could finish, Yuyan hurled herself backward—shattering the window with her dagger and leaping through.
She landed hard on the tiled roof of a neighboring building, stunned that her insane plan had actually worked.
I'm alive…?
Without wasting a second, she flung the dagger through a nearby house's window and screamed, "HELP!"
But the moment the words left her lips, she felt it.
A barrier.
Sound couldn't escape. Spiritual energy couldn't pass through.
The scream died in silence.
From the shadows behind her, she heard a cold voice.
"…Now you've made me angry."
Chen Moyun stepped forward again, now drawing his blade.
It was a weapon Yuyan recognized instantly.
The Ebon Fang.
A 30–40cm blade, sleek and curved like a crescent fang. Forged in deep obsidian black, marked with faint violet runes. It shimmered with shadow energy and could slice through most spiritual barriers.
It was a weapon unique to Yǐng Dào cultivators—and lethal in any realm.
Yuyan froze.
From the other rooftop, Chen raised the Ebon Fang, shadows writhing around him.
"From now on," he growled, a twisted smile spreading across his face, "I'll stop playing… and focus on ending your pathetic life."