Immediately, blinding white-and-purple light swallowed the entire field. The lustrous blast, along with the blood-curdling, oppressive aura from the ‘demon’ was hair-raising. Dirt, smoke, leaves, and debris pelted everywhere.

As the red-robed cultivator darted farther away from the scene, Mei Ying squirmed in his arms of iron strength. In the remote vicinity, there was an astronomical tornado of prismatic lights and a tiny thread of blue orbs. She stared at the lustrous rays, entranced by the raining atmosphere of death.

“Jian Jian!” The young woman’s voice trembled, seething of fury. “You knew!”

Jian Yu had long known the true culprit, the murderer of her loved one.

“If I told you earlier...” Jian Yu was emotionless, never looking down at his friend. “You would have attempted a suicide.”

Without a word, Mei Ying creased her brows together. She stared at the cultivator’s seemingly unfazed expression, noticing how the purple light fluttered around his smooth cheeks like butterflies. The wind twirled his half-ponytail back and forth. Her lips quivered slightly. The fingers wrapped around her sword’s grip hardened as white veins flashed along the sharp edge of its bright blade.

When there was only silence, the young man continued to drift in the air and gently added, “I would gladly climb up a mountain of knives and fire for you…” Shifting his eyes away from Mei Ying’s view, he went on, “…but I will never want you to do the same for him if it will cost your life.”

Deep inside, the young man knew that if he had kept watching, the huntress would have done just that—while blinded by her vengeance.

Mei Ying clenched down her jaw. At last, she sheathed the sword. Wetness sprung from the corner of her left eye, slowly trickling down her cheek. The rage in her heart did not quell, only growing hotter than before. Her shoulders shook.

In reluctance, the huntress buried her face into Jian Yu’s arm, smothering the anger and prickling pain. “So, what the fortune teller said was true. In a past life, I was punished for my misdeeds by the Heaven realm with a curse.”

“Whoever…cursed you was wrong.”

For a moment, Mei Ying was quiet. The Song clan often debated since her birth on whether she was a curse or a miracle.

She then inquired, “Then, what could my past self have done to deserve it?”

Jian Yu’s red eyes drifted toward Bing Wen, Xi Feng, and Chong Lin who had already painted a large magical circle with elaborate Yin and Yang elements, scripts, and the five elements. In the remote distance, the warrior god had already wiped off the last bit of cinnabar ink from a brush just as they all had planned, using the foolish mortals as a distraction. Xiao Li stood at the side, holding onto the glimmering soul of Li Qin. Even Xia Qi, the unhappy huntress, was still bound, laying by the servant’s feet.

The young man’s voice was low but soothing. “Knowing yourself, do you think you would have repented if you knew?”

Jian Yu was right again.

Instantly, the maiden knew what she would be outcasted for.

Look at me. These are the people whom I want to protect regardless of how others, even Xia Qi, may think of me. Earlier, when Mei Ying halted the piercing tip from reaching Xiao Li, she knew what it would mean for her. It was over. That was just the type of person Xia Qi was, and Mei Ying knew. Nothing about that part of her had changed.

But there were also no regrets, because, in fact, this was who Mei Ying really was from the beginning. While her countless encounters with ghosts, walking corpses, and demons were not always pleasant, the huntress learned more about them than inside the floating reclusive village. Still, Mei Ying trusted that everyone whom she has helped, no matter what they are, are always deserving of her aid. They would never hurt anyone.

“I won’t repent.” Raising her head, Mei Ying met her friend’s fiery pupils, crimson like blood. “If I did, it would mean that I regretted helping someone in need, that I should have let them die. How could I face them then? How can I live with myself? I cannot."

Not even the Demon King can bring the deceased back to life.

Jian Yu smiled rather wistfully. He lowered his eyes, revealing his long lashes. “After leaving the stiff, floating village…you weren’t sure of who you were since you're used to receiving answers instead of finding them. Isn't that right?"

He gazed into the young woman’s bright eyes. “But your answers are different from what others preach. Even if you are right, and there is more than one way of treating the disease, the main cultivation world may turn their back on you. Your mind tells you one thing, but your body and heart wants to do the opposite."

The huntress pursed her red lips together.

"Can you keep doing this if you become an Immortal?" asked the handsome cultivator. "I suggest that you look into yourself, then."

Like a complete circle, the dark clouds began inside the young woman’s mind when her shifu and the tiger vanished. The chaos took shape after the old shaman died. It grew stronger as Mei Ying experienced joy, excitement, and the thrills of being a huntress, alongside with the senior hunters as they preached newer and more extensive philosophies of the Heaven realm’s path to the stupid disciple. These teachings casted doubts in herself as she tried to fit into main cultivation world’s mold, hiding her face with a long veil—sneaking around to send ghosts off with pleasant prayers—and now…

It was never a matter of overcoming the mental demon troubles…

It was truly a matter of understanding the cause of her mental demon, which had hindered her cultivation progress. Her strength. Her given journey. Her fate as the Child of Red Omen or the prophesized savior of mortals.

Jian Yu went on, “No matter what decision you make, I know you can do this." Then, in a low, affectionate tone, "I believe in you.”

For a moment, Mei Ying carefully pondered on her friend’s words before blurting out, “I have no accomplishments.”

“Your worth has nothing to do with what you have done for the main cultivation world, the Mortal realm, or how useful you are to others.”

The young woman then spoke in a small voice, “I ran away and hid from everyone.”

“It’s not your fault that millions of people are waiting for you to do something. If they cannot save the Mortal realm better than you can, then, they have no say.” There was a quiet sneer. “If anyone dares to wrong you…” Jian Yu stopped, fading off as his expression darkened into enmity.

“I have also been bottlenecked in my cultivation for a year now.”

At this, the red-robed cultivator laughed, “Everyone, including myself, has reached that point more times than you think!”

Mei Ying stared at the handsome man’s bright face, admiring how red flames flickered in his irises and how shadows crept in whenever he looked down as if to look into himself. An indescribable feeling blossomed in the young woman’s chest, flourishing like a ferocious thicket of conflicting emotions.

At long last, the huntress knew what she needed to do as someone had once told her, ‘Try to think of what makes you happy. Only when you do will you realize what truly makes you stronger.’

To protect the ones whom she love, the ones who make her happy, she has found the root of strength to move past the mental demons, which had bottlenecked her cultivation.

Mei Ying's attention flickered over to the flashing veins of light overhead. “Jian Jian…”

“Three lightning strikes buys enough time for us to sort out the remaining four contestants, which should undo the magical formation.” The young man’s eyes skimmed toward the black skies as though he had heard something. A rush of cool wind caused his half-ponytail and streaming red ribbon to flap back. “Because…the Mortal realm needs us.”

❁❁❁

Spine-chilling screams permeated the black skies, carrying the smell of sulfur and gradual corroding flesh. Soon, whiteness fractured the airspace for a second, followed by bellowing thunder.

“WALKING CORPSES!” Right away, a man fell over the stadium seat, only to have his boot grabbed by the groaning figure, who was once his friend’s disciple. “NO, NO, NO! LET ME GO!”

When the youth’s body appeared in the Jin Sword sect’s medical examination room, with hundreds of other bodies, the doctors and assistants who were on stand-by noticed that there was not a breath in them. Their skin was cold, absent of pink tones, their positions were rigid, and there were no heartbeats. One by one, as bodies continued to line around the ginormous space, the Jin Sword sect medic team tried to chant spells. They had hoped that they could revive these corpse-like people. Frantic, a few quivering doctors ran out of the room to share their findings.

Sweat had gathered around the medic team’s brows. It was as though these disciples and young shifus…had lost their souls.

As advised, the strange ones were separated from the fainted contestants, all of whom were still breathing. For the others' safety, some of the doctors and assistants moved the unconscious disciples into a different building.

Soon, though, the ‘dead’ began to sit up. In waves, they dumbly crawled to their feet, growling, slobbering, and groaning out loud. Then, black spiritual energies gathered around, and the fresh walking corpses struck.

While only mid-ranked in the hierarchy of all restless deceased, walking corpses are rather unpredictable. If they nab a low-ranking demon or cultivator by luck and consume their cores, then, these beings are capable of cultivating yin energy. They start becoming aware of themselves and their surroundings unlike the original mindless state. They can then communicate, learn martial moves, and purposefully deliver death blows onto others. The most dangerous part about walking corpses? Once they become aware and start learning, these dead beings can become extremely intelligent and use their withered appearance to dupe people and demons alike.

“My little boy!” Falling to her knees, a woman sobbed loudly. Her wide gold sleeves trembled, soaking in warm tears. “How did this happen?! It was only supposed to be a martial tournament! What happened in that secret realm?!”

Two days in that dimension equated to two hours in the Mortal realm. How did everything go wrong so fast?

Behind the pitiful person, hundreds of cultivators held scrolls and blunt objects in defense as they fled for their lives, traced by groups of the drooling deceased. Many screamed out their disciples’ names, begged their dead shifus for forgiveness, and braced themselves.

A large shadow loomed over the mother as she lifted her head, with tears running down her cheeks. “This mother can’t… I can’t kill you!”

The mindless walking corpse, cold and stiff, yanked his former mother’s arm and pulled her up to stand. Then, as quickly as he released her bicep, the growling undead’s cool, clammy hand gripped upon the woman’s throat. Now, dangling up in the air by only her neck, the Jin sect mother tried to scream. Her arms flailed wildly like a headless chicken flapping its wings. Her sounds only became tiny squeaks as the former son further secured his grip around the softest part of the woman’s neck. With just a bit more strength, he could burst her vocal cords to stop her squawking and feast on her flesh… Hot tears flowed down the woman’s cheeks.

Is this how the mother dies?

Suddenly, the entire area violently juddered and cracked from the ground up to the stone seats of the grand-scaled stadium, the white-and-gold beams, and even the jade-tiled roofs. Glittering gold curtains rocked back and forth. The deep lines of fissures seemingly traced back from the flat center of the arena.

A few cultivators turned their heads as many walking corpses lost hold of their victims, stumbling back and around from the shaking earth.

At once, the Jin sect mother felt the fingers around her throat loosened as the person’s legs staggered. She fell to the ground.

There, in the central field below, grew a blinding white light that flooded everyone’s vision. All the living cultivators shielded their eyes with their wide silk sleeves. Of the ones who huddled together, a man cried out, “Do you think it’s our final four contestants?!”

If the person was right, then, the four cultivators would be the strongest, and more than ever before—the main cultivation world would need all the strong—and most importantly, living—people that they can get to combat the evils of the Netherworld! The demon king, the Netherworld god, dared to meddle with Mortal realm affairs! It’s unforgivable!

Though the intense flash dimmed, a blink of crimson darted from the lower ground, leaving behind a green-robed young man, one wearing all-red, and another in black.

Immediately, a heavy jet of red chrysanthemums blew in, led by a woman wearing a beautiful white and pale-green outer robe that flowed back like a celestial maiden’s. Her long, black-silk hair weaved toward the ashen-black skies and continuous roll of thunder.

Amazingly, glaring lightning also swirled around the peerless cultivator that shined in gold. Her eyes even shone gold like a Heaven Immortal’s, as though she were not a mortal at all. Instead of taking hits from the lightning strikes, as ordinary mortals would when they breakthrough into a higher cultivation rank—it was rather startling that white-and-purple electricity seemed to embrace her! It was if the Heaven realm made an exception to the young woman!

Flowers bloomed, followed by treacherous vines, at every direction in which Mei Ying flew. Right away, all walking corpses were overtaken by the thriving garden of plants that ruptured through any space and corner.

“Did you see that?!” Numerous people shouted, pointing at the enigmatic young woman. “What type of element is she wielding?!”

“There are only five elements: wood, fire, earth, metal, and water.” Answered one. “But aside from her ability to manipulate earth, these blossoms are quite unusual—and stunning…like…”

Like a goddess.

Mei Ying kicked off from a stone seat, landing in front of those who admired her. With a simple wave of her hand, the huntress' exploding red flowers, all seemingly highly lifelike, and green braided vines tackled the walking corpses flat onto whatever surface they were on. They were immobilized, bound by the plants that continued to wrap around them.

From behind, the warrior god watched the mortal, still trying to wrap his mind around the impossibility. She was like nothing before when she had previously fought his weakened self.

While it was true that the farther away Heaven realm inhabitants are from their original domain—the weaker they become, plus he had to double-down his self-restraint, Bing Wen knew potential when it was right in front of him. Before, Mei Ying treated the divine flora arts and earth element as isolated parts of her being. But now, the powers had finally become one with their master. Though her attacks were initially precise and fast—this time, Mei Ying was on an entirely different level!

Bing Wen glanced at the nonchalant Jian Yu and quiet servant—both of whom jumped into the high stadium seats, already knocking down many undead to the side.

Had he known, the man would not have descended to the Mortal realm. Wei Sheng would have surely brought his qilins back.

Perhaps, it was not an accident when Wei Sheng stole Bing Wen's two beloved pets… Did Wei Sheng plan to anger me, draw me out, and do his dirty work for him? With this thought, the man’s hands formed into tight fists. Just who are you? If you are indeed the reincarnation of someone…

Already though, he knew who it was.

After all, who else would have had galls to provoke Bing Wen and stick Her nose into others' business?

Once he had attained Godhood, that little Heaven Immortal lost Her post.

There was so much potential. She could have had it all if She had only repented...

'I won't repent!'

'Mei Ying, this Emperor will ask you again: Will you repent for your crime in the Mortal realm?!'

Oh, how Bing Wen remembered the stone-cold face of the young woman with bright autumn-tinted eyes, draped in all-crimson with the red floral mark on her pearly forehead. Even the way She held her chin up in defiance and pride.

'This one did nothing wrong.' Her lovely but haunting response drew clear, audible gasps from around the lustrous, reflective room of blue skies and white clouds, high beams, and white flowers. Shining swordtips continued to point downward at her, closing off any possible hope of escape. 'She delivered the Flower of Longetivity to the one who needed it the most!'

Bing Wen lowered his golden eyes. Mei Ying, if you had not disobeyed the order and committed such a treasonous crime...I wonder if you would not have been reduced to this miserable state by the curse. And it would seem that, after nearly eight hundred years, the Heaven realm is finally giving you, a cursed person, a second chance to make the right choice.