A chilling sensation spread from Gao Yang's wrist, followed by waves of excruciating pain.
Drip… drip…
Blood streamed from the wound, falling into the bowl below.
He collected half a bowl before wrapping his wound tightly.
Half a bowl—the minimum required to draw the Seven Fiends.
Carefully following the diagrams from the bamboo slip, Gao Yang began.
The Seven Fiends required seven blood meridians, starting from the Dantian and extending through the heart, lungs, limbs, and head—seven points in total.
Each blood meridian resembled a demonic sigil. Once begun, it could not be interrupted—it had to be drawn in one continuous motion.
Gao Yang's fingers trembled. The lines came out crooked and uneven, but eventually, he completed all seven blood meridians.
He whispered the incantation recorded on the bamboo slip.
Heat surged from his Dantian, coursing through the blood meridians and flooding his body.
At first, it was merely hot—bearable.
Then it burned.
Then it seared.
"Ahhh!"
Gao Yang gritted his teeth, drenched in sweat.
Slowly, he stood, clenching his fists as he felt Qi surge across his skin, filling him with immense strength.
He slammed his fist onto the table—splinters exploded in every direction.
Another punch to the wall left a deep crater.
And that was only the physical enhancement.
Gao Yang formed a hand seal. "Seven Fiends, Night Prowl!"
The demonic tattoos along his blood meridians pulsed, morphing into seven shadowy specters that lunged forward, devouring the table's shadow.
In the next instant, the table disintegrated into dust.
Gao Yang couldn't bear the pain any longer—he dropped to one knee. The blood meridians scorched black marks into his skin, the air thick with the smell of charred flesh.
"Master!" Xiao Man screamed in panic.
"Don't come closer!" Gao Yang shouted, his voice strained.
He could barely control himself.
The Seven Fiends borrowed demonic Qi—and the backlash was severe.
Immortal Mistress had never told him that.
This was indeed a Daoist art—but one rooted in ghostly and forbidden symbols, far from the righteous path.
Gao Yang gasped for air as the blood-red lines on his skin faded, leaving behind dark burn scars.
His body looked as though seven demons were branded upon it. On closer look, something black slithered faintly within those scars.
He didn't notice. Exhaustion washed over him—like the bone-deep fatigue of hauling boulders all day back in his village.
He dragged himself up and picked up the bamboo slip from the floor.
The cracked bowl had shattered, but Gao Yang didn't bother to replace it.
He lifted the knife again, his hoarse voice calling, "Come here, Xiao Man."
She approached hesitantly, trembling. "M-Master…?"
"Give me your hand."
Tears welled in Xiao Man's eyes, but she dared not disobey. She held out her shaking hand.
Gao Yang pricked her fingertip with the knife, drawing a bead of blood, then cut his own finger and pressed their blood together.
His body was covered in scalded lines—there was no space left to draw—so he painted the talisman directly into his palm.
The sigil of Seven Wounds resembled a grinning demon. Under the sheen of fresh blood, it seemed almost alive.
When the sigil was complete, Gao Yang sealed it with a hand sign. A strange, heavy sensation enveloped him.
He looked up. For a moment, he felt something beyond the ceiling—something vast—watching him.
At that very moment, deep in her alchemy chamber, Immortal Mistress's expression hardened. She looked toward the dark cavern ceiling.
Her fingers moved rapidly as she calculated, then smiled. "Heh… the little one has some talent after all. My half-scroll of Seven Kills wasn't wasted."
Pleased, she increased her refining pace. The pestle-wielding maids struggled to keep up. If they slowed her work, they knew the penalty—they'd be thrown into the cauldron as ingredients.
One by one, Immortal Mistress tossed jars of powdered herbs into the cauldron, her grin stretching wider—unnaturally wide—until it nearly reached her ears.
"Immortality… becoming immortal… hahaha! Let's see what kind of gods you really are!" she cackled.
The sense of being watched faded as quickly as it came.
A shriek broke the silence.
Xiao Man clutched her arms, collapsing to the floor in agony. Sweat dripped from her brow like rain.
Her body felt as though engulfed in flames.
"Ahhh!"
She screamed, rolling on the ground. Black burn lines snaked across her skin, demonic markings spreading up her neck, creeping toward her face.
At the same time, Gao Yang felt something within him surge outward—reaching toward Xiao Man.
He hadn't used much blood, so the connection faded quickly. As the Seven Fiends lines settled into place, Xiao Man suddenly relaxed, her pain ebbing away.
Tearfully, she asked, "Master… what just happened?"
Gao Yang laughed hoarsely. "Heh… hahahaha! Xiao Man, I did it. I succeeded!"
His laughter filled the room, low and manic.
Xiao Man trembled, terrified. "M-Master…?"
Gao Yang's laughter stopped. His eyes hardened. "Xiao Man, I heard you met Sixth Senior Brother's slave and took something from him. What was it?"
Her face went pale. She dropped to her knees, bowing frantically. "Master, I'm sorry! Please forgive me! I was wrong!"
She pulled out a small pouch of coins from her clothes and lifted it high. "Master—it was silver."
Gao Yang asked coldly, "Are you that desperate for money?"
Xiao Man stayed silent, afraid to speak ill of Senior Brother.
Gao Yang continued, "Twelfth Senior Sister already told me. Will you still try to hide it?"
Trembling, Xiao Man recounted everything that had happened in the classroom.
When Gao Yang heard how she'd risked her life to save him—only to be punished by Sixth Senior Brother—his expression darkened.
"I must send money home in a month," she said tearfully. "If I can't, my parents will beat me to death. Sixth Senior Brother's servant said if I became his experiment tonight, I could keep all the silver."
Gao Yang's tone was calm but filled with fury. "Then tonight, I'll go with you."
The dwarf wasn't truly targeting Xiao Man—he was humiliating him.
If Gao Yang couldn't defend even his servant, he'd forever be a joke within Azure Mountain Sect.
Xiao Man panicked. "No, Master! Sixth Senior Brother hates you. He'll hurt you!"
"I'm your Master," Gao Yang said coldly. "Would you defy me?"
"N-no…"
He turned for the door. "Stay here."
Then Gao Yang took the money pouch and walked toward Senior Brother's quarters.
Knock, knock, knock.
A maid opened the door, peering curiously. "Oh? Young Disciple, are you here to see my Master?"
Senior Brother's maid was barely four feet tall—tiny, but cheerful. Clearly, he treated her far better than Gao Yang treated Xiao Man.
"Wait here. I'll call him," she said, hurrying off.
Soon, Senior Brother appeared.
He ducked through the doorway, massive and looming. His gaze lingered on the blood-marked lines along Gao Yang's arms but he said nothing.
"What brings you here, little junior?"
Gao Yang smiled and held up the pouch. "Sixth Senior Brother sent my maid a generous gift. I can't accept such courtesy. I'd like to ask Senior Brother to accompany me in returning it."