Chapter 27 - Crimson Eclipse – Blood Cult Remnant

In the shadowed valley beneath the towering crags of Mount Xianji, the air hung heavy with the scent of damp earth and ancient secrets. Abraham's lungs filled with the cool mountain breeze, yet beneath the peaceful surface simmered a tension that tightened with every step. He was no longer the naive disciple of days past; each wound, each battle had carved lines of determination and caution deep into his soul. The Origin Core Fragment pulsed softly against his chest, its ethereal glow syncing with the rhythm of his qi as his feet pressed into the mossy forest floor.The path ahead narrowed into a rocky pass, shadowed by twisted pines and draped in a mist that shifted like living silk. From the dimness stepped a figure—cloaked in tattered crimson robes that whispered with an aura of dark vitality. His eyes gleamed a feral red, wild and hungry, mirroring the twisted energy that pulsed from his very flesh. This was no mere warrior but a master of forbidden arts—the Crimson Eclipse Assassin of the Blood Cult, a living weapon honed through demonic blood cultivation.Abraham's breath faltered as the assassin's presence radiated power unlike any he had faced since the great battle on Plum Blossom Peak. The assassin's veins bulged with corrupted qi, swirling in dark spirals that defied natural flow—a technique Abraham recognized with chilling clarity: Blood Reversal. The ability inverted the flow of vital energy, draining life not only from opponents but the very environment, bending the rules of cultivation to feed an insatiable hunger."A relic bearer," the assassin hissed, his voice a chilling rasp carried on the wind. "Your blood sings to the shadows, a beacon calling eclipse. Today, I claim your life."Without warning, the assassin blurred forward in a ghostly dance, his form nearly invisible beneath his Shadow Veil but deadly sharp in intent. He struck with overwhelming force, even as the very air warped around him, pulling at Abraham in a gravity of malevolent qi. Trees shattered where his phantom blades sliced, the earth itself groaned and split beneath their clash.But Abraham, grounded in the art of Plum Blossom Sword mastery, met the assault with a grace born of discipline and resilience. His feet whispered against dew-kissed leaves in the technique of Cascade Bloom—light and fluid, yet rooted and unyielding. His blade traced wide arcs of blooming qi petals, sending ripples of energy outward like waves over still water, seeking to flush the assassin's form from the shadows.The battle quickly became a deadly chess match. The assassin's Blood Reversal drained the ambient vitality, turning the mountain's life force into weapons of suffering. Poisoned mist coiled around Abraham's limbs, lacing his meridians with torment. A crimson explosion of inverted qi burst as the assassin's palm connected, ripping energy back like a cruel countercurrent. Pain lanced his nerves, stealing ground beneath his feet.I cannot match this raw, twisted power with force alone, Abraham thought fiercely, his mind sharp as his blade. The Plum Blossom art is subtle, a dance of petals and wind, but the Shadow Veil feasts on hesitation. I must become the dawn that shatters night's oppression.Sliding into Eclipse Descent, Abraham's blade became a luminous crescent of radiant qi, sweeping through the mist with searing clarity. The assassin's veils flickered and broke, his outline momentarily exposed. Abraham twisted into Throne Ascendant, spinning golden dragons made of pure qi that intertwined to form a shimmering shield. The dragons snapped with the fury of lightning, breaking the poisoned blades and repelling shadow claws that sprang like vipers.Yet the Blood Cult assassin was relentless, his Blood Reversal technique feeding on every crack and flaw in Abraham's defense. The mountain trembled as the assassin enhanced his aura, crimson energy bloating like a dark eclipse. The very ground seemed to rebel, roots writhing, the air thickening until it sucked at Abraham's breath. Phantom claws raked shadows across his form, scattering qi petals with unnatural strength.Michael appeared like a tempest, fists raining destruction upon cultists who dared close, yet even the bodyguard's might was strained by the relentless onslaught. Abraham's mind flickered, analyzing, adapting—the lessons of Mount Hua and the Oracle reverberating through his consciousness. The reversal feeds on direct, aggressive force—only diluted blows and deceptive forms starve its fury.He concentrated, weaving the Violet Cloud technique to renew his battered internal energy, qi folding softly to erase poison's sting and mend the ruptured channels. Barricade forms bloomed as layers of illusionary petals, masking true intent and fragmenting the assassin's focus. With precise timing, Abraham baited his foe into overextending, then unleashed the Pinnacle form—an illusory flower that blossomed violently, piercing the inversion with sharp, radiant energy.The assassin gasped, his Blood Reversal splintering under the storm of deceptive qi until his form convulsed, energy imploding catastrophically. The crimson mist surged outwards in a final, savage eruption, blasting nearby trees to charred remnants. The assassin crumpled, eyes dimming as his corrupted life force drained away, whispering one last threat to the darkness.Abraham sheathed his blade slowly, exhaustion threading through tingling limbs, the fragment's glow steadying his core. The Blood Reversal is a curse of imbalance, he mused. It devours life indiscriminately, but Plum Blossom art thrives on flow and harmony. To defeat the darkness, I must deepen my mastery—not only of blades but balance.Michael's grunt of approval was the first sound of relief; the disciples rallied, breathless but unbroken. Chung Myung's legacy shimmered in the ripples of qi as the group moved forward, the path ahead shrouded in mystery yet illuminated by hard-won knowledge and resolve.The Blood Cult's shadows lingered—a reminder that the empire's restoration demanded vigilance and more than just strength. It required heart, cunning, and an unyielding spirit ready to bloom even in the face of overwhelming darkness.