The air was thick with allure.
Wu Han stood like a statue, eyes gleaming with a calm.
Lin's silken robe had slipped from her shoulder; her eyes glimmered with a desperate, sultry wetness. The dusk light painted her skin in molten gold, and she leaned forward, one leg slipping from the folds of her garment like tea spilling over the edge of a cup.
"Master," she murmured, voice trembling between fear and honey, "surely there are… gentler ways to make a deal."
Wu Han only laughed, the sound sharp as flint. "Master? You think I'm some backwater fool who would drop to my knees because a woman shows her leg?" His grin widened.
"Do you really think I would fall for someone like you, when Luo Lan exists?"
Lin froze. Her act faltered, confusion flashing through her painted eyes.
"I have standards," he said, turning away as if disgusted by the thought.
"And if I wanted a slave, I could find better than you."
Her lips trembled; her voice was a whisper of silk and despair.
"Then… if not sex, what do you want from me?"
Wu Han's smile sharpened. "A messenger."
With a flick of his wrist the air hummed; a snare of blinding, golden light wrapped her still as if she were canvas. A knife flashed into his hand from his storage ring.
"What do you mean? WAIT! No! NO!!! PLEASE DON'T!!! Get away from me!!"
She gasped, then began to scream, panic rising as realization set in about what he was going to do to her. Her limbs locked in midair, suspended by threads of energy hard as steel.
She struggled hopelessly, able only to beg and cry.
"If you move," Wu Han said softly, almost kindly, "it will hurt more."
Then the knife cut into her skin.
"AGHH!! HNG!! AHH!!"
She screamed again, a sound that echoed throughout the forest's edge until it dissolved into a ragged, animal wail.
He carved deliberate lines as her blood met the air.
Even when it splashed on his face, he continued humming while writing, using healing magic to close the wounds whenever he wanted to change some of the message to fit his goal.
Time stretched; her voice grew hoarse; her eyes went glassy.
When at last he finished, he pressed two fingers together, and red fire licked along the cuts, sealing the wounds with the scent of scorched flesh and burnt meat.
"For good measure…" His tone was almost absentminded, as though reciting a recipe. "You won't need them anymore."
Before she could comprehend, his hand brushed.
A snap of energy, sharp as a blade but thin as silk, tore the air, and her scream cut off midway, leaving only a hoarse rasp.
Blood trickled down her neck, heel, and arm, and then, almost gently, he healed the wound closed again, leaving no outward trace but deep internal damage.
Lin collapsed to her knees as the binding force released her.
She gasped voicelessly, trembling; tears cut through the grime on her face.
Wu Han crouched before her.
"Almost done," he murmured.
From his ring he withdrew a small spirit stone, his final touch, a stamped message to the Flaming Cloud Sect.
"You'll deliver it to the right people for me."
Her eyes widened as he forced it past her lips. Spirit energy surged down her throat; raw power seared her insides as if she had swallowed hot coal.
A bomb was primed.
Wu Han dusted off his hands and stood, stretching lazily. "It's been a long time since I did this myself," he said with a self-satisfied sigh. "I hope you like it."
He turned and walked away. Behind him, Lin lay motionless, eyes open and unfocused.
Fear had consumed her so utterly that even hatred could find no room to grow. He didn't bother to look back; she would serve her purpose soon enough.
Night deepened, and the world grew quiet. Somewhere far above, light flickered across the clouds.
Hours later, the silent broke.
A flaming cloud tore through the sky, burning with the radiance of the Flaming Cloud Sect's flight technique.
From its midst descended a figure wreathed in worry: Senior Disciple Yue Hai, robes glowing with the faint shimmer of fire qi.
Behind her came other disciples.
Her presence alone announced her rank; the power of a Ninth Stage cultivator radiated from her, and she was not to be trifled with.
"LIN!!"
Yue Hai found Lin slumped beside a tree, her robe now a torn ruin of soot and blood.
Anger flared in Yue Hai, but worry was higher still.
She was the one who had taught Lin the trick and had helped her through much of her cultivation. She knew how proud and strong Lin was; to see her reduced to such state meant something terrible had occurred.
Lin's eyes flickered when she saw them, but she did not move; she did not even seem to breathe until Yue Hai dropped to her knees beside her.
"Junior sister!" she cried, clutching her shoulders. "Who did this to you? Tell me!"
But Lin could not speak; her voice cord had been cut, and even the tendril on her arm was severed, so she could not write. Only tears fell, silent and glittering.
Trembling hands groped for the dirt beside her; she tried to shift her weight to leave a mark, but it was useless.
Then Yue Hai saw the message the culprit had left across Lin's belly, words carved into flesh, blood still staining the letters:
To all Flaming Cloud disciples, and you, Fu Bai, withdraw my bounty or next time I will have no choice but to call on Luo Clan, or worse, my master.
From your one and only, Wu Han.
The threat was not merely to Lin but to their acting sect master, Fu Bai—the second great genius of the city, who currently led the sect while his father remained in secluded cultivation.
To strike in such a way was to insult the honor of the entire Flaming Cloud Sect.
"Wu Han…!" Yue Hai whispered, the name spitting like venom.
"I swear I will—" she snarled.
But the rest of Yue Hai's oath was lost in a sudden shift of air.
A soft click—barely audible—like the final snap of a thread.
A circle bloomed on Lin's abdomen and sucked in a massive rush of wind, inflating her body before, in a single, horrific instant—
BOOOOOOM!
The explosion ripped through the clearing, not in flame but in pure, blinding force.
Wind howled like a beast's scream, tearing through robes, stone, and trees.
The ground split; disciples were flung into the air like leaves in a hurricane.
Lin's body disintegrated into crimson mist, blasted apart by the force; her last breath was taken in a single, terrible bang.
Yue Hai struck the ground, coughing; her qi shield held thanks to her Ninth Stage cultivation. In her arm remained a lump of blood, bone, and flesh; the last remains of her beloved junior sister.
Others were not so lucky. Some groaned, some lay still, all reeling from the shockwave and the flesh shrapnel.
For a long time, there was only the sound of wind through the trees, whispering like the laughter of a evil god.
Then Yue Hai raised her head. Her eyes burned with a rage purer than flame.
She held what little remained of Lin close; her voice was hoarse.
"Wu Han," she rasped. "Luo Clan, every one of you… will BURN!!"