Blood and Ash

Meng Qingshan stood on the ridge overlooking the Yunshan Sect, his cold eyes taking in the small sect that was nestled between the mountains. The air around him was heavy, the sky darkened with thick clouds that threatened rain. His black cloak billowed in the wind, and the weight of his mask pressed against his face, hiding the expression that flickered beneath it.The command had come swiftly from the leaders of the demonic sect: destroy Yunshan Sect. They were accused of causing the illness plaguing the empire, and Meng Qingshan was ordered to wipe them out.But deep down, he knew the truth was more complicated. The illness was a symptom of something far darker than the petty ambitions of a small sect. Yet, here he was, ready to carry out his orders. He had no choice. The sect expected obedience, and his place was to enforce their will.He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the familiar surge of power rising within him, and whispered the words that would summon his demon. A glowing circle appeared at his feet, the ancient sigils swirling in the air as the ground beneath him trembled. The air thickened with dark energy, and moments later, Xinyi emerged from the portal, his crimson hair falling wildly around his shoulders, his grin both menacing and playful."Ready for some fun?" Xinyi's voice echoed, his red eyes gleaming with excitement.Meng's hand clenched around the hilt of his sword. "Let's get this over with," he muttered, his voice devoid of emotion.With a wave of his hand, Meng sent Xinyi ahead. The demon shot forward like a flame igniting a dry forest, crashing into the Yunshan Sect with deadly force. Screams erupted from within the sect as disciples scrambled to defend themselves, but it was futile. Xinyi was a force of destruction, tearing through their ranks as if they were nothing.Meng descended into the chaos, his blade slicing through the air, striking down anyone who dared to stand in his path. The flames Xinyi unleashed spread rapidly, devouring the wooden structures and turning the once tranquil sect into a burning wasteland.With every life he took, Meng whispered under his breath, "I'm sorry."The words felt hollow, but he said them anyway, as if it would somehow lessen the weight of the blood on his hands. He had long since become numb to the killing, yet the part of him that still remembered his old life—before the mask, before the demonic path—clung to this small act of remorse.A disciple charged at him, fear in his eyes as he swung his sword. Meng parried easily, knocking the weapon aside and delivering a swift blow to the man's chest. As the disciple crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath, Meng knelt down, placing a hand on the man's shoulder."Forgive me," he whispered, before delivering the final strike.The flames roared around him, consuming everything in their path. Bodies littered the ground, and the acrid stench of smoke and blood filled the air. Meng stood in the center of the destruction, watching the last of the Yunshan Sect fall. His chest felt tight, not from the battle, but from the weight of what he had done.They had all been innocents—disciples with no knowledge of the illness, no part in the chaos that gripped the empire. But it didn't matter. They had been in the way, and for that, they were condemned.As the last cry faded into silence, Meng Qingshan finally allowed himself to stop. His breathing was labored, the energy from the battle draining him. Slowly, he reached up and pulled off his mask.The cool air hit his face, and he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as if trying to let the wind cleanse him of the bloodshed. His features, normally hidden behind the mask, were now exposed to the empty, burning ruins around him. For a brief moment, he felt human again. Vulnerable.Xinyi appeared beside him, his grin widening as he surveyed the destruction. "Well, that was easy. Not much of a challenge, was it?"Meng didn't respond, staring into the distance where the last of the flames flickered and died. His hands shook slightly as he wiped the sweat from his brow."It's over," he whispered, though the words felt more like a plea than a statement.Xinyi chuckled. "For them, maybe. But for you, it never ends, does it?"Meng ignored the demon's taunt. He bent down and placed his mask gently on the ground, as if marking the end of the massacre. His heart ached for something he could no longer name—something he had lost long ago, when he chose this path."I'm sorry," he said one final time, though there was no one left to hear.Or so he thought...