Night hung heavy like a leaden shroud, with clouds pressing low and thick.
The air reeked of damp rot and decay.
Li Fang moved swiftly along the abandoned path in the eastern outskirts of the city.
Dry grass cracked beneath his feet with brittle snaps, while the wind tugged at his robes like a thousand cold, grasping hands.
Up ahead, the ruined old well stood desolate amidst the wilderness.
Its crumbling stone rim had half-collapsed, and the inky darkness within seemed capable of devouring all light.
Wild weeds ran rampant around it, twisted dead branches clawed upward like skeletal fingers, and dark red stains—faint, but persistent—spotted the area, as if centuries of blood had soaked the earth and refused to wash away.
Li Fang came to a halt, gaze sharp as a blade.
He took a deep breath, extended a hand over the mouth of the well, and summoned a faint shimmer of spiritual light to probe into its depths.
There was no water within—only a narrow stone passage, winding downward into the earth.
Darkness slithered like something alive, reeking of death and blood.
The silence was suffocating.
No insects.
No breeze.
It was as if the entire world held its breath.
Li Fang tightened the jade talisman at his waist. Without hesitation, he leapt into the well.
—
The passage was dank and cold, its stone walls cracked and overgrown with tangled vines.
A thick layer of sludge squelched beneath his boots, each step sounding wet and reluctant.
Li Fang pressed forward cautiously, spiritual power shielding his body, his senses on high alert.
Suddenly—
Drip. Drip.
Tiny droplets echoed from above.
He looked up—dark red liquid seeped through the cracks in the walls, slowly trailing downward.
One drop landed on his shoulder.
He reached up and touched it—cold, viscous… blood.
The walls were bleeding.
Li Fang's expression darkened. He picked up the pace.
It was impossible to tell how long he walked before a stone archway finally emerged from the darkness.
The half-closed gate bore intricate seals and talismans, now torn and defiled. Black mist seeped from between the sigils, slithering through the air like venomous snakes.
Li Fang pushed the door open.
A wave of putrid stench rushed out to meet him.
Before him stretched an enormous underground chamber—
At its center lay a vast blood pool, several meters across.
The dark red surface churned sluggishly, littered with dismembered limbs and rotting corpses.
The air was thick with a nauseating stench of decay.
Around the pool stood pillars crafted from bleached bones, and from each hung a shriveled human skin, rustling in the air with a chilling rasp.
Suspended above the center of the pool floated a barely recognizable figure, bound tightly by countless black tendrils.
Zhao Mingkui's fragmented soul.
Li Fang held his breath, eyes locked on the figure.
Zhao's soul was in tatters, his features unrecognizable, save for the glowing golden character "赵" (Zhao) etched on his chest.
He was not here by choice—he had been sacrificed.
Li Fang moved to step forward, but the blood at the pool's edge suddenly churned violently, bubbling like boiling oil.
Then—
A massive hand burst forth from the pool!
The hand was blackened and rotted, claws long and sharp as knives.
Its wrist extended into the pool, connected to a mass of pulsing black veins—as if the entire blood pool was part of its body.
Li Fang staggered back in alarm.
Blood splashed across the ground and hissed into steam, eating holes into the stone like acid.
A voice, low and rasping, echoed above the pool:
"Keh keh keh keh… another little insect here to die… come, join the offering…"
A towering figure slowly rose from the blood.
It was a twisted humanoid beast, its body wrapped in scraps of human skin and thick black vines.
Its face was blank—except for an enormous mouth, slit to its ears, dripping black blood and twisted into a grotesque grin.
Li Fang's eyes narrowed. He formed a seal with both hands and launched a golden talisman straight at the creature's chest.
The talisman cut through the air with a piercing shriek.
The creature roared and opened its maw, swallowing it whole.
CRACK!
The talisman detonated inside its throat, sparks and fire bursting out—yet the creature merely staggered before regaining its footing, completely unharmed.
Li Fang's heart sank.
It devours spiritual power?
—
The air around the blood pool thickened, every breath tainted with the metallic stench of blood.
Li Fang gritted his teeth. He couldn't fight head-on.
He unleashed his movement technique, becoming a flicker of light darting along the edge of the pool.
The creature shrieked in fury, swinging its enormous arms to crush him.
Each impact shook the chamber, raising clouds of dust.
Suddenly, Li Fang's vision swirled.
The world around him changed.
He was no longer at the blood pool, but on an endless street, crowded with countless faceless figures.
They were clothed in rags, soaked in blood, their hollow eyes staring at him.
"Li Fang… help us… save us…"
Withered hands reached out, grasping his sleeves, arms, throat—dragging him down into a pit of despair.
Li Fang's heart turned cold.
An illusion!
He bit down on his tongue, spraying a mouthful of blood.
The blood burst into red light, tearing through the illusion.
Reality snapped back into focus—he was at the blood pool again.
The creature lunged, gaping jaws ready to consume him whole!
Li Fang roared, hands flashing.
His final trump card—a jade talisman, green as the forest, floated before him and blazed with light.
"Heaven's will above! By divine decree—banish this abomination! Evil of the blood pool, begone!"
The jade shattered into a storm of radiant blades, sweeping toward the monster like a tide of vengeance.
The creature screamed as its flesh was shredded, black blood raining like a storm.
The entire pool boiled and writhed.
At last, with a final shriek, the beast dissolved into black smoke and vanished.
The blood pool convulsed violently, its liquid rapidly evaporating.
Beneath the surface, rotting bones lay exposed.
Panting, Li Fang stepped to the edge where Zhao Mingkui's soul hovered.
He drew a golden talisman and gently pressed it to the spirit.
Zhao's soul shuddered, faint clarity returning to his hollow gaze.
He whispered:
"Save… Laizhou…"
And then, his soul scattered into golden lights and drifted into the night sky.
Li Fang stood in silence, eyes fixed on the heavens—his expression steeled like iron.
The blood pool was gone.
But the darkness… had not truly vanished.
Above Laizhou, clouds gathered thick as lead.
A new storm… was coming.