“So, tell me…” The young man continued, “What does Mei Ying hope to accomplish by confronting the demon king, no, the Netherworld God?”

“I just...” answered the veiled maiden. Just the memory of it was enough to burn the corner of her eyes. But regardless, she followed the kind hand that never once let her go. “…want to face the person who killed my Shaman Hua.”

What began as another day in Cheng Xiu Village quickly became etched into the huntress’ mind.

As the floating green landmass drifted in the bright sky, it searched and searched for a new vacant area to land on. Passing by were enormous white clouds and the eternal stretch of lavender skies and birds in their large flocks. While light and shadows slipped by, Mei Ying stood on the flat side of her flying sword.

The young woman’s pearl-white outer robe swelled and rolled with the frigid wind. Though it was frowned upon by most people, she wore long white pants like a man would, with matching boots. It was far convenient than a dress. From faraway, perhaps, the maiden would have been mistaken for a Heaven Immortal youth. If not for her long, ghostly veil, others would not know whether she was a beautiful juvenile man or woman. Then, there were her eyes: soft and clear like a bountiful body of water, bottomless yet not so at the same time.

Though it was rather icy-cold at such high elevations, the young woman enjoyed watching the tiny villages and sparkling cities down below come and go. The whipping wind flipped through the veiled disciple’s long, silk-locks and her half hair-bun, locked together by a silver ornament that resembled a small crown of flowers. With the boundary and five magical formations intact, no shadow was cast as the village quietly floated over these settlements.

That blighted morning, the rising red rays bled into the overlaying purple clouds. Just as the shimmering sword whished closer toward a high green mountain peak, the faint stench of flesh had stung the young woman’s nose. Her eyes grew wide. Her heart dropped. Mei Ying hopped off the weapon, her arm carrying a bamboo-woven basket of irradiating red flowers. She had spent the past few nights, weaving them from her spiritual energy. They were gifts for Shaman Xia’s protégé.

When the cultivator landed in front of the front gates, her white outer robe swirled back with the crisp breeze. With a soft whistle from the young woman, the glistening sword slipped back into its glossy white sheathe at her sash. She closed her eyes and opened them once more. No one was within the vicinity. Most of the clansmen were still asleep.

Swiftly, Mei Ying made her way past the opened entrance. Both the high bamboo-woven doors had been hastily left unlocked. Her eyes darted around, picking apart any hint that had been left behind.

It was a cold, lonely dawn, surrounded by corpselike silence.

A wooden board snapped under the young woman’s white boot.

Alarmed by the sound, Mei Ying nearly flinched. She stepped back, holding the bamboo basket of flowers closer to her body. Down at her small feet, there laid the once-beautiful red plaque that read: Song Hua. Bitter wind swept some loose golden leaves and dirt across the deeply engraved scripts. The former proud household plaque must had fallen from the front entrance gates… What seemed like a long eerie sigh sent cold goosebumps up the maiden’s slim arms.

Where’s Hua? Glancing into the skies, the veiled maiden noted that the rainbow-hued barricade had remained untouched. Its glass-like structure did not harbor a single scratch. If someone had passed through or made a single dent in it, every single villager would have woken up.

Knitting her brows together, the white-cladded cultivator did not understand. Even a rift…would have set off a presence, right? If so, Shifu would have—

Oh…

The old Heaven Immortal was still missing from the last mission. There has been no update. Upon remembering this, the disciple rapidly blinked her lashes. Her heart quivered.

Focus.

Quickly, Mei Ying drifted into the main courtyard, which was comprised of an ash-brown paved square and a tall red maple tree on each side. The inlay design of the dark bricks was meticulous. Before, the vicinity had been serene and bright. Her eyes darted everywhere.

Instead, the area had become menacing and dark. Even the small two-storied wooden house that stood across the square appeared the most sinister of all. The young woman tilted her head, feeling the air become more frigid as she approached the entrance.

Suddenly—the screen-paneled wood doors flew opened.

What greeted the cultivator was a frighteningly dark void, empty and still so deep of eternity.

Purple yin energy flooded the entire house. Moreover, it was strongly saturated with human blood. One glimpse was enough for Mei Ying to detect the horror that dared sprung up in the quiet village. She jumped back. As the young woman did, the glinting sword zipped out of her white sheathe as if to protect its master.

“Fa Guang!” Mei Ying whispered to her little friend. “Not yet.”

Curious, the twinkling blade seemingly glanced back at the cautious maiden. It did not inch forward and remained floating in the air, leveled by the cultivator’s shoulder.

The young woman then drew out a blue scroll from one of her broad white sleeves. She flipped it over with two fingers and whispered a quick incantation. As the top part began to burn away, thanks to her golden spiritual energy, Mei Ying stopped. She noted that the scroll was unable to smolder any further. Her eyes flitted over to the skies.

Of course.

Once the entity had sensed her spellcasting, a small but effective black shield rose over Song Wen Ling’s complex. The boundary was able to cut off any possibility of Mei Ying’s help message from being sent—

Another realization occurred.

Like a curled flower, the disciple’s strength began to drastically drain. Damn, there really was no one residing nearby, whom she could enter the Spiritual Communication Channel with. The Song cultivators were probably still rotating their posts. It would take a while until someone would come by and notice the shift of the area’s aura.

In an instant, the cultivator’s legs became incredibly heavy. Her vision blurred. Regardless, she must remain calm!

If the barrier has manifested itself, it would mean trapping the young woman with the potent source of yin energy.

There was a thud. Crimson flowers were scattered everywhere. The basket rolled over to its side.

When the veiled maiden opened her eyes again, her cheek was against the cool ground. The shining blade had clattered next to her. The jet-black abyss stared at the young woman, waiting for her entry.

Taking the risk, the disciple grasped hold the sword’s grip. If this were what the entity intended, it was not like she could think of any other choice!

“Fa Guang, take me to Hua!” Mei Ying hissed, weakly. In a desperate attempt, the young woman permeated the weapon with the last bit of her spiritual energy. “Hurry… Into the portal!”

Please, be alright!

Gradually, the sword lifted itself from the floor. Inch by inch, the white-robed cultivator grabbed hold of the grip. For the first time…in several years, her chest felt heavy.

Hua!

Her eyes were burning. Wetness framed the edges of her lashes. Mei Ying gritted her teeth, crawling toward the black abyss that eagerly welcomed the veiled maiden.

How many times is it now?

Without hesitation, the young woman plunged the golden sword into the cold, black entrance.

How many times is it that I cannot save those whom I need to protect?!

It only took a breath, but into the darkness she went!

❁❁❁

Feeling the wintry wind through her long, black hair, Mei Ying slowly opened her eyes. The sword had run out of power, skidding across the wood-paneled floor. The rift had taken her into its destination: the bedroom of Song Hua.

Though the mind was still foggy, the white-robed disciple managed to turn her head. Slowly, the wooden bed frame rolled over as the young woman sat up. Her marble-jade fingertips were covered with crimson flower petals, all wilted or wet with putrid juice. She stared. Turning her face away from the stink, it soon became clear that red blossom petals also decorated the entire floor, the walls, and even the rice-paper screen windows.

“What the…” Mei Ying paused and swallowed. Her head was spinning.

All around the veiled maiden was a pitch-black room. On every inch of the wall and wood-carved windows were ink-black scrolls and bloody magical script writing. It seemed to be the work of a mad but powerful person, no doubt. The dark magic placed into Song Hua’s home was overwhelming.

The Dragon Pearl lantern had been knocked down to the ground; however, its gold light was still bright enough to reveal the baleful surrounding. Not only that, the small wooden table and chair seemed to have been thrown across the floor. A long trail of paper had been smeared by crimson petals and red liquid as well. Everything was in disarray.

The young woman’s stomach became uneasy. The rotten, sweet stench was like decomposing human flesh. She swallowed. Before long, there were a few coughs in the room. At the right side of the cultivator’s dark peripheral, there was someone laying in a thick puddle of blood.

“Hua!”

Upon hearing Mei Ying’s weak voice, the person stirred.

Right away, the veiled maiden rose to her feet—only to nearly reel over. The yin miasma, infused with the revolting floral smell, was formidable. “H-How wounded…are you?”

So much blood. While her hands were shaking, the young woman clenched her jaw and stumbled her way over to the shaman. Quickly, she fell to one knee before the elder whose laborious breathing did not seem promising. What huge slashes…

“It’s Shaman Hua to you, child...” Laying on her back, the woman’s wrinkled face was deathly pale. Her silver hair-bun had been messily put together. Light was fading from the lady’s walnut-black irises. “Hurry… This one needs…to tell you…”

“T-Tell me everything.” Mei Ying had many questions, but she needed to bear with them for a bit longer. A hard lump formed in her throat. She blinked back the hot wetness of her lashes. “This one is listening!”

To the veiled maiden’s surprise, shining tears flooded the old woman’s vision. “My mother, Shaman Xia…the prophecy…” Laying her cheek against the floor, the shaman spat out a few handfuls of black blood. “Guh… Mei Ying…” Her breaths became shallower than before. “The Netherworld… Dire…”

“What…about the Netherworld?” There was no way. “Shaman Hua!”

When it became apparent that the elder could no longer speak, with crimson dripping from her lips, Mei Ying hurriedly brought the lengthy scroll over to the shaman’s side.

A hot tear slid down her cheek. The young woman bit her bottom lip.

“J-Just write what you want to tell me!” With a brief incantation, the cultivator leaned over. She pressed one palm against the old person’s chest, immediately transferring warm spiritual energy into the lady’s body. “I’ll heal you while you just write—”

Mei Ying pursed her lips tightly together. Every bit of her wanted to fall apart.

No. Shaman Hua’s spiritual veins had been completely shredded!

What a cruel monster! Whoever had attacked the old woman was beyond capable enough to remove the spiritual veins and numb or quickly end the suffering. But since they chose not to, it meant that the culprit wanted the elder to suffer slowly in full agony and gut-wrenching pain. It was an affliction that was a million times worse than normal stabbing wounds! To think that Shaman Hua struggled to live through all of it going on at once…

Unable to suppress her cries, Mei Ying blinked back the falling teardrops from her honey-hued eyes. How her heart ached! Her healing would only do more harm than good!

Immediately, the white-robed cultivator removed her hand from the elder’s indigo tunic. She ceased the transfer of spiritual energy.

THINK! THINK, THINK, MEI YING!

If the disciple continues to heal the wounds in the way she does now, the curse that had been planted into the old woman’s body would only force the same spiritual veins to come undone again and again! It would force the elder to relive the horrendous pain on a repetitive basis! Over and over, the lady would have to endure the slow splintering of her own spiritual veins!

“Who did this to you?!” Shaman Xia. Yue Liang. Uncle Ku. Mother. Shifu. “Why…!” The young woman’s voice cracked. “Why would they…?”

Gazing downward, Mei Ying concentrated her focus into her right opened palm. Her spiritual energy was nothing but gold sparks. Still, she tried to crystallize the lucid, golden streams. Slowly, gold turned orange into crimson hues.

“Stop…” Lifting her bloody hand into the air, the elder shook her head. “You have not mastered…The…Flower of Longevity…” Sure enough, she closed her eyes. “Save your strength…”

The young woman’s fist slammed against the wood-paneled floor. A brief incantation. No, there was not even a shrivel of spiritual energy left for a teleportation portal. Not even for a short distance one!

There was a long sigh from Hua. “I saw…the demon…” Her voice was so soft, that the veiled maiden had to lean in closely. Yet, some words could not be formed, wisping into air. “The Heaven… My vision… Beware… It seems…”

“Shaman Hua?”

“Shadows…” Red continued to run from the old woman’s mouth. “…Shadows on the path… A curse.” With that being said, the old shaman turned her head to the side. Her eyes rolled back. Her discolored hand went limp. She would never stir again.

“SHAMAN HUA!” Averting from the bloody script of ‘Demon king’, which was scrawled across the paper—Mei Ying wrapped her arms around the rigid corpse. Though trembling, she brushed one hand over the lady’s silver strands of hair.

It was with this same gesture that the old woman had used when soothing the child’s pain.

“St-Stay with me! Stay with me until the others arrive!” The red-smeared disciple’s eyes were burning profusely with what seemed to be endless streams of tears. At every turn, the ink-black scrolls on the walls and windows all gleamed with their running red calligraphies. “Don’t leave this one! Don’t leave this one, you hear me?!”

Mei Ying!

No longer feeling the shaman’s warmth, the cultivator shut her eyes.

Mei Ying!

“SHAMAN HUA!”

…Ying!

❁❁❁

“Mei Ying!”

Shaken, the cultivator’s eyes fluttered opened.

In front of her, Xia Qi’s furrowed brows and worried expression seemed to alleviate once the younger one came through. The older huntress’ index finger had tapped into Mei Ying’s consciousness, waking her from the disturbed state. She drew it away from the maiden’s forehead.