Heart’s Inferno

Heart's Inferno...

Qin Wentian remained oblivious to the turmoil unfolding within the Leng Clan. Yet, a gnawing unease had settled in his heart, refusing to be ignored. He struggled to shake off this unsettling feeling, an inexplicable emotional disturbance that had taken root.

Little did Qin Wentian realize that his emotions were entwined with Little Rascal's, his link to the mischievous beast causing their states of mind to synchronize.

The ongoing matches in the Hell Arena ceased to captivate Qin Wentian's attention. With Chu Mang at his side, he exited the arena and wasted no time in leaving. The Hell Arena was indeed a haven for the powerful, showering its victors with increasing rewards as their victory streaks extended. It was a realm where Yuan Meteor Stones flowed freely, ripe for the taking by those who proved their strength.

For Stellar Martial Cultivators, innate talent and personal dedication aside, cultivation resources were a necessity. Yuan Meteor Stones, serving as a global currency, could be used throughout the world. Those outside major clans had to rely on their own sweat and blood to amass them.

"Where are we headed?" Chu Mang inquired.

"This location is relatively close to the White Deer Institute. Let's drop by there first," Qin Wentian answered. He intended to seek Bailu Yi's assistance in obtaining information about the Yan Clan. He needed to understand the Yan Clan's might—how many Heavenly Dipper Sovereigns they boasted, their influence across the Moon Continent, the true extent of Yan Tie's power, and more. These details were crucial for his strategic planning.

At the Institute's entrance, the guards greeted Qin Wentian with utmost respect. Their courteousness stemmed from his association with Bailu Yi; they dared not provoke him and earn her displeasure.

Upon seeing Qin Wentian, Bailu Yi's icy demeanor thawed into a smile. "You're back."

"Yes," Qin Wentian replied with a nod. "I'm seeking your assistance to gather some information. Recently, the Yan Clan attempted to assassinate me. One of their assailants was Hades, whom you fought in the Hell Arena. He's a disciple of Yan Tie, the individual skilled in creating Puppets from humans. Ultimately, I enlisted Chu Mang's aid in putting him down. I'm interested in understanding the depth of their relationship, as well as Yan Tie's personal strength."

"Hades is no more?" Bailu Yi's brows knitted. "Yan Tie's public image is notorious—a demonic oddity, sinister and ruthless. He possesses great skill in the Dao of Divine Inscriptions, despite being relatively weak in personal cultivation, merely at the fifth level of Yuanfu. Nonetheless, his profound knowledge of Divine Inscriptions enables him to outmatch opponents of the same level."

"Expert Divine Inscriptionists are rare compared to formidable Stellar Martial Cultivators. Within the Eastern City of the Moon Continent, Yan Tie ranks as a premier third-ranked Divine Inscriptionist. His eccentric character defies control, even from the Yan Clan's lord. Strangely, he lavished his disciple with attention, sharing his entire arsenal of techniques. Your elimination of his disciple will trigger Yan Tie's wrath without doubt."

Qin Wentian's brows furrowed. It seemed he had miscalculated by ending Hades' life. Yet, he harbored no fear of Yan Tie's retribution—Qing`er's vigilant protection was a shield against any impending threat.

"Approximately forty days until the exchange begins," Qin Wentian inquired once more.

"Indeed, you must prepare diligently," Bailu Yi encouraged with a smile. Qin Wentian nodded, but a sudden chorus of yelps, filled with an unfamiliar fervor, resounded within his mind. Sensing Little Rascal's emotional tumult, he knew the mischievous creature was racing towards him.

Raising his gaze, Qin Wentian pinpointed the source of the yelps and soon witnessed Little Rascal and Fan Le descending from the sky. Fan Le's bloodshot eyes radiated a scorching intensity, an aura of immeasurable fury emanating from him.

"What's happened?" A nagging premonition nagged at Qin Wentian's mind. With a casual gesture, Bailu Yi signaled the guards to stand down, granting Fan Le and Little Rascal passage.

"Buzz." Little Rascal reverted to its original form, leaping into Qin Wentian's arms and emitting incomprehensible growls.

Qin Wentian caressed the creature's pristine fur while focusing his attention on Fan Le.

"Leng Ning is dead," Fan Le whispered, his heat-infused presence surging.

BOOM! Explosions resounded within Qin Wentian's mind, each blast tearing at his consciousness. Leng Ning—gone?

"No…" Qin Wentian's head shook in denial. Impossible. She was perfectly well when he left the Leng Residence. How could she be gone?

Yet, the truth was written in Fan Le's eyes. Leng Ning had truly departed from this world.

A symphony of cracking sounds filled the air as Qin Wentian clenched his fists, his face contorting, his eyes icing over. A frigid chill radiated from him, compelling Bailu Yi to instinctively retreat, her body shivering involuntarily. The once serene youth was now a vessel of fury.

"Leng Ning was forced to her death by Yan Tie and the Leng Clan," Fan Le disclosed, his voice carrying the weight of grim reality. "Following the death of Yan Tie's disciple, he sought Leng Ning's life as recompense. The Leng Clan, in a vile pact, surrendered Leng Ning to him and hatched a plot to ensnare you. Faced with humiliation, Leng Ning chose to embrace death."

In Qin Wentian's heart, flames of wrath consumed reason, his eyes radiating a chilling malice that seemed capable of freezing life itself.

"Leng Ning belonged to the Leng Clan, and if Yan Tie's disciple perished, his vengeance should have been directed at me," Qin Wentian hissed, words dripping with venom. "And the Leng Clan, despite their status as a major power, dared to relinquish Leng Ning to Yan Tie? Can they truly be so spineless?"

Qin Wentian's words, each sentence, bore an aura of frigid bitterness that marked him not as human, but as a demon.

"That was the decision of the Leng Clan. Not only that, they were willing to trade you away, to curry favor with Yan Tie once more," Fan Le affirmed, locking eyes with Qin Wentian. The shared fury within their gazes rendered them almost indistinguishable in their rage. "Leng Ning knew she would find no respite within the Leng Clan. Thus, she let me escape, while she remained to confront her fate. She was aware that the Leng Clan would offer her no protection against Yan Tie. Had she chosen to leave with me, the combined ire of the Leng and Yan Clans would have rained down upon you."

Fan Le's words landed like searing blades, piercing deep into Qin Wentian's heart. "Leng Ning was determined not to burden you," Fan Le continued. "That's why she chose to return. She conveyed to the Leng Clan that you are the beloved of Bailu Yi, poised to represent the White Deer Institute in the forthcoming Divine Inscriptionist exchange. This was her ploy to deter the Leng Clan from harming you. Her sacrifice, made for you, has now left her lifeless."

"Because of me?" Qin Wentian's pain crescendoed. The girl he had met just a few months ago had chosen to trade her life for his?

"That's what she decided," Fan Le confirmed. "Leng Ning believed this was her fate, an inescapable outcome whether you had entered her life or not. She refused to burden you with her troubles, accepting what destiny had laid before her. She also… said she had fallen in love with you."

"In love with me," Fan Le's words pierced into the depths of Qin Wentian's heart, twisting his emotions.

An overwhelming surge of murderous intent erupted from within him.

"Where is her body?" Qin Wentian asked through his pain.

"Yan Tie intended to degrade her even in death, planning to convert her into a Puppet. So, I reduced her to ashes," Fan Le confessed in a subdued tone, his determination to see Yan Tie and the Leng Clan pay evident in his eyes.

"They will die," Qin Wentian declared, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his heart. He stared ahead, as if seeing Leng Ning's radiant smile, almost hearing her scold him for his overblown self-assurance.

Beside him, Bailu Yi approached, her gaze locking onto his with an intensity that held both compassion and wisdom. "If revenge is your aim, you must remain calm."

Qin Wentian gazed at her, the innocence and purity of her visage seeming to see through his thoughts.

"Stay within the Institute's walls. Neither the Yan Clan nor the Leng Clan will dare to stir trouble here," Bailu Yi urged.

"I'm going to kill Yan Tie," Qin Wentian asserted, meeting her gaze with resolve.

"Yan Tie is teetering on the edge of madness. He'll be heavily guarded by formidable experts," Bailu Yi warned. "With the exchange drawing near, the Yan Clan will undoubtedly take extra precautions for Yan Tie's safety. If you are truly set on ending him, do it during the exchange."

"Regarding the Leng Clan, their decision to sacrifice Leng Ning to pacify Yan Tie—it's all connected to the upcoming exchange. If you kill Yan Tie during the event, you will shatter the Leng Clan's hope."

Bailu Yi's eyes, clear and captivating, held unwavering determination. Then, she reached out, gently tugging on Qin Wentian's arm. "Come with me."

Qin Wentian hesitated momentarily, his gaze locking onto hers, entangled in their depths. "Do you seek revenge or do you desire to heedlessly throw your life away? At the very least, the Leng and Yan Clans are significant powers within the Eastern City of the Moon Continent."

Qin Wentian exhaled a prolonged breath, allowing Bailu Yi to guide him along.

She led him toward the mountain at the back of the Institute, a landscape adorned with lush patches of green grass, serene lakes, and a refreshing mountain breeze. The ambiance seemed almost purposefully designed to soothe frayed nerves.

A realization dawned on him. In the course of his journey, he was bound to encounter numerous individuals and face various situations. This realm of cultivation was steeped in debts of gratitude and vendettas, sentiments of love and animosity. Some of those people might become his cherished companions, but could he truly shield them all? Leng Ning had held similar hopes, and yet, she was now gone in the blink of an eye.

Qin Wentian cast a sidelong glance at Fan Le by his side. Today was likely to be exceedingly perilous for him as well.

Seated nearby, Bailu Yi observed Qin Wentian closely. She empathized with the turbulent emotions churning within him. Fiery passion was a hallmark of youth; how could a person remain tranquil when their friends were sacrificed to safeguard them? How could he not be fueled by anger? Driven by a thirst for vengeance?

Yet, such emotions held no power here. Strength was the sole currency that mattered.

As Qin Wentian sat there, the storm of his aura gradually ebbed away, and the flames of his wrath seemed to dissipate. Yet, this was but a temporary concealment, not an eradication of his rage and yearning for retribution.

A gentle breeze wafted, brushing against Qin Wentian's face and causing his hair and robes to sway. His eyes remained closed as he nestled amidst the lush expanse of grass.

This persisted for seven days.

Afterward, the last vestiges of violence in his aura vanished entirely, leaving behind an air of tranquility and serenity.

He ruminated over many things…

Finally, he opened his eyes, their gleam different from before, now filled with clarity and newfound resolution.

Qin Wentian raised his gaze to the drifting clouds above. It was as if he could glimpse Leng Ning's radiant smile—a reflection of how she might have perceived him before her demise.

That straightforward, innocent young woman had vanished like a fleeting breeze, but even death could not expunge her from his memories.

Within Qin Wentian's being, his blood surged with heightened vigor, forming a whirlpool within him. The countless blood-red seals in his bloodline pulsed, each emitting a crimson radiance infused with an ancient, overpowering force.

Yet, in this moment, the once savage and domineering essence within his bloodline seemed placid and harmonious.

For at the heart of the vortex, strands of golden-yellow blood were gradually coalescing, shaping into something akin to the flickering flame of a candle.

Though seemingly feeble, this candle flame possessed the ability to subdue the tempestuous primal energy of his bloodline, transforming the once turbulent internal realm, brimming with domineering intent, into a realm of profound calmness.

This flame was none other than the Heart's Inferno!