Amidst a fiercely snow-laden winter night, neither stars nor bright moon could be seen across the sky; a boundless, pitch-black darkness stretched as far as the eye could see.
Beneath Fuyun Mountain lay a small town wrapped in a thick blanket of pristine snow, crunching faintly underfoot with every step.
The small town was bustling and lively, its streets packed with crowds. Looking past the withered trees along the roadside and the eaves of every household, aside from the pure white ice and snow, everything was hung with bright red lanterns, ablaze with festive, jubilant color.
Duan Junyi walked slowly through the clamorous streets, the chill naturally emanating from his body standing out in jarring discord with the surrounding merriment. He resembled a drop of ink inadvertently smudged onto a painting no matter how one tried, he could never blend into the scenery of the picture, appearing exceptionally conspicuous among the crowd.
A little girl, perhaps only five or six years old, trotted with short, hurried steps through the thick accumulation of snow right up to Duan Junyi’s side, her small hand tugging at the edge of his purplish-black robe.
Duan Junyi halted his footsteps, lowering his head to find a cute little doll whose eyes were filled with confusion. The freezing chill in his pupils imperceptibly softened by a fraction, and his tone turned gentle as he asked, “Little sister, why are you tugging at my clothes?”
Holding an exquisite and pretty little bird-shaped lantern in her hands, the little girl handed it over to him with a smile so clean and pure, saying in a sweet, milky voice: “Pretty older brother, Daddy and Mommy said that carrying a lantern and making a wish tonight will bring good luck.”
Taking a look, Duan Junyi saw that not only the eaves and trees, but even every single pedestrian on the road held an exquisite festive lantern in their hands. The joy of the holiday permeated the entire town, proving irresistible even to someone like him.
“Thank you.” Woodenly, he accepted the bird-shaped lantern from the little girl.
“Pretty older brother’s wish will definitely come true.” Skipping and hopping merrily, the little girl ran back toward a couple not far away.
Across a moderate distance, one could still hear her tender voice saying: “Daddy, Mommy, that older brother is so pretty.”
Hearing this, the couple instantly burst into laughter, responding with tender, loving warmth: “When our A-Ci grows up, she’ll also be a pretty and gentle young girl.”
As their family’s figures gradually melted into the crowd, Duan Junyi fell into a momentary trance, asking the two people behind him: “With such a lively atmosphere today, what day is it?”
Standing behind him were two young men: one dressed in cyan martial attire who looked to be around seventeen or eighteen, and the other clad in concise, deep-black martial wear looking somewhat steadier and more composed. Both were dressed unmistakably in the manner of bodyguards.
The cyan-clad youth, Jing离 (Jing Li), stepped forward to answer: “Master, today seems to be the Lantern Festival. There’s a custom of releasing lanterns to pray for good luck and seek the protection of deities.”
“Oh?”
The Lantern Festival…
How long had it been since he last heard those words? He had nearly forgotten that there were still countless festivals in the mortal world, with practically every celebration bursting with this much clamor and rich, warm human warmth. He couldn’t quite remember how long it had been since he last experienced it.
“Coinciding with the festive holiday, I recall that Lantern Festival calls for glutinous rice dumplings (yuanxiao). Since we still have time, let’s go join in the festive spirit as well.”
Catching sight of a tavern in the clamorous street ahead, he walked straight toward it.
Just a few steps away from the tavern, a freezing gust of wind swept past. The bird-shaped lantern which had burned brightly the entire time while carried by the little girl—flickered unsteadily for a brief moment in Duan Junyi’s hands before its internal candle flame died out entirely, a wisp of grey smoke drifting up from the lantern’s mouth.
The sudden extinguishing of the candle startled both young men standing behind Duan Junyi, causing them to hold their breath in dare-not-speak silence.
Only Duan Junyi let out a light chuckle, murmuring softly: “If I were lighting a nether-lantern, perhaps it wouldn’t have gone out.”
He uttered this quiet inquiry, leaving the two youths behind him exchanging glances, neither daring to respond. Seeing this, the cyan-clad youth took the initiative to step into the tavern ahead, inquiring briefly with the shop assistant before waving his hand toward Duan Junyi: “Master, they still have private rooms.”
After a moment of consideration, Duan Junyi opted to sit directly in the main dining hall. Compared to a cold and desolate private room, he currently preferred the slightly noisy hall decked out in red silks and crimson lanterns.
He ordered three bowls of eight-treasure sweet dumplings, motioning for the two youths to sit beside him. Scooping a dumpling from his bowl into his mouth, the sweet, rich flavor slowly spread across his palate, pulling fragments of past memories back up into his mind.
The steadier-looking bodyguard, Chong Huai, stared at the sweet dumplings before him without touching a single one, instead quietly monitoring his master’s every move. Only Jing Li ate with undisguised delight, entirely oblivious to his master’s anomaly.
In the center of the hall, a story-teller was vividly and colorfully spinning a tale from a scriptbook—and the protagonist of this scriptbook was a sensational piece of news that had rocked the Nine Continents over the past seven years.
Rumor had it that above the uninhabited snow plains, there floated a massive suspension island named the Dome.
The Dome hanging in the sky wasn’t inhabited by immortals or exalted masters, but rather by a ruthless, execution-happy demonic overlord the Scarlet Flame Demonic Lord (Chiyan Mojun).
Wherever the Scarlet Flame Demonic Lord trod, not a single soul survived; compared to the cruelty of earthly evil specters, his methods were far more merciless and terrifying.
“This Scarlet Flame Demonic Lord is utterly devoid of human nature. He takes pleasure in slaughtering people. Wherever he appears, he is bound to kill, leaving not a single living witness in his wake a degree of cruelty utterly unheard of!”
“Just seven days ago, at a village in Manquan City, every single villager—numbering in the hundreds all perished as ghosts beneath the great demonic lord’s sword. Tragedies of this sort are simply too numerous to count…”
In the hall, the storyteller spoke with brimming indignation, denouncing the bloody massacre perpetrated by that great demonic lord upon the Dome.
Jing Li pricked up his ears to listen to the storytelling, unable to resist stealing a glance at Duan Junyi’s current expression, only to find his master’s demeanor as calm as ever without the slightest ripple of emotion.
At a neighboring table sat two youths wearing identical red-and-white garments embroidered with flame patterns the sect uniforms of the Southern Separation Wing-Fire Palace (Nanli Yihuo Gong) from the immortal sects. Listening to the storyteller recount the bloody massacres, the two youths slammed their palms down onto the table in agitation.
The younger, still visibly immature youth gritted his teeth and cursed: “This Duan Junyi truly deserves to be sliced a thousand times. I only hope Yujin Immortal Venerable emerges from seclusion soon to clean up the portal for Fuweimen and rid the world of this demonic scum with his own hands.”
Seated opposite him, the slightly steadier youth held the exact opposite stance, casting doubt: “Word has it that a hundred years ago, the entirety of Fuweimen opposed Yujin Immortal Venerable taking Duan Junyi in as a disciple. It was Yujin Immortal Venerable who insisted on taking him under his wing, showing him immense favoritism over the past century. I’m afraid that when Yujin Immortal Venerable comes out of seclusion, he might even shield this demonic lord instead.”
“Impossible!” The younger youth rebuffed with unshakeable certainty. “Fuweimen has always stood at the pinnacle of the immortal sects, and Yujin Immortal Venerable is the very model of an immortal practitioner. Under his rule, not a single benevolent demon is wrongfully executed, nor is a single wicked demon spared—distinguishing right from wrong with crystal clarity. Even if Duan Junyi is his disciple, I believe he will never practice favoritism or bend the law.”
“Hmph!” The other sneered with obvious disdain. “Duan Junyi is Yujin Immortal Venerable’s sole disciple, raised by him for nearly a hundred years. To be taught into this sort of shape—the upper beam is crooked, and the lower beams will follow; this Yujin Immortal Venerable is surely someone of flawed moral character as well.”
At these words, Duan Junyi’s expression paused. His gaze abruptly sharpened, and an ice-cold, bone-piercing glare swept warningly toward the two youths: “Diseases enter through the mouth, and disasters emerge from the tongue. Meals shouldn’t be eaten blindly, and words certainly shouldn’t spoken recklessly especially when you speak of the one person who must never be maligned. The Southern Separation Wing-Fire Palace… I’ve remembered it.”
Hearing Duan Junyi’s intent, Jing Li and Chong Huai moved instantly, engaging the two youths in combat. Chaos erupted within the tavern.
The two youths were shallow in cultivation; after merely dozens of moves, they were swiftly subdued by Jing Li and Chong Huai, instantly recognizing their captors: “You are the great demonic lord of the Dome, the Scarlet Flame Demonic Lord Duan Junyi!”
The moment the four characters “Scarlet Flame Demonic Lord” were uttered, panic gripped the patrons in the tavern as they scrambled to flee. However, the entire establishment had already been cordoned off by dozens of figures in black, preventing a single soul inside from escaping.
Pressing one of the youths down, Chong Huai leaned close to Duan Junyi’s ear and whispered quietly: “Master, the town has already been completely investigated.”
“Mhm.” Duan Junyi nodded. Suddenly feeling the surroundings grow somewhat quieter, his gaze swept toward the storyteller’s direction, and the corners of his lips curled into a cold, cruel smirk that blossomed like a flower in hell, carrying an inherent, bone-deep chill: “The story was told quite well. If you have anything more to say, finish telling it we aren’t pressed for a mere moment or two.”
Hearing merely the moniker of the Dome’s master, the storyteller was already trembling like a leaf in the wind, not daring to draw a heavy breath, let alone continue his tale.
Waiting half a day without hearing the storyteller’s continuation, Duan Junyi grew visibly impatient.
Thousands of doors unlocked, ten thousand lanterns bright; mid-first month stirs the imperial capital. On such a fine day, beneath such beautiful bird lanterns, he had originally intended not to commit bloodshed tonight. Unfortunately, someone had polluted a person who must never be tainted with foul and filthy words in that case, he couldn’t blame him…
Failing to receive the rest of the storyteller’s tale, Duan Junyi remarked with a trace of regret: “What a pity. Originally, you all could have lived a little longer; now, my patience has run out.”
Accompanied by the crisp sound of a sword sliding free from its scabbard, a cold flash sliced across the air. Crimson blood splattered outward, and the storyteller who had been vividly spinning tales just moments before dropped with wide, copper-bellied eyes, his body stiffening as he slowly collapsed to the ground.
“Kill!”
A single, weightless word, numb and utterly devoid of emotion as though the lives falling beneath his blade were not living human beings at all.
At his command, wails echoed ceaselessly within the tavern amidst a flurry of sword light and dancing shadows of blood.
Not just inside the tavern; the figures in black had already slaughtered their way out into the streets outside.
As commoners fled in all directions, the lanterns along the street were knocked to the ground one after another, the flames igniting the paper skins and bamboo frames. The firelight spread across the entire town. In the eyes of cultivators, ordinary mortals possessed zero ability to resist; under the chilling blade, one commoner after another collapsed to the ground.
Fleeing frantically through the streets, the populace found the entire town sealed beneath an invisible barrier preventing any escape. No matter how they ran, they ultimately met a cold, sharp blade piercing their bodies.
The Scarlet Flame Demonic Lord, Master of the Dome, born for slaughter wherever he walked, only a dead city remained in his wake.
A little girl clad in a bright red cotton-padded jacket was knocked to the ground. A dark shadow loomed over her tiny frame, and looking up in terror, she saw the “pretty older brother” who had gifted her the bird lantern, now standing there holding a blood-dripping longsword.
Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined that the pretty older brother was tonight’s executioner.
The blood-stained sword ultimately descended upon the little girl. Warm blood splattered across Duan Junyi’s fair cheeks. As the very last person in the small town fell, his hand trembled imperceptibly. Yet his blood-stained face and deep, fathomless eyes revealed not a single ripple of emotion.
As a strong gale swept past, even the wind carried the heavy stench of blood, proclaiming that within this entire small town, not a single living soul remained.
With a deafening crash, the barrier enveloping the town was shattered by a single sword strike. The familiar stance, along with the familiar aura contained within that sword strike, caused Duan Junyi’s entire body to shudder violently as he lifted his head in numbed disbelief.
Standing before his eyes was a man dressed in moon-white robes. Locking gazes, he saw the man looking back at him with eyes overflowing with profound shock and horror.
So extreme was the shock that the man parted his lips several times without managing to produce a single sound.
White jade crown, moon-white robes, wielding the longsword Feibai.
The newcomer was precisely the Yujin Immortal Venerable discussed by the two youths just moments earlier the disciplinary elder of Fuweimen, Sang Hua.