Chapter 101

The day of reckoning came at last. Ji Chun stood motionless at the cliff's edge, the cold rain soaking through his robes as he gazed into the misty abyss below. The declaration of war from the White Sects crumpled in his fist. His face remained impassive, but his eyes betrayed a deep, endless sorrow.

Half a month had passed since his arrival at the Demonic Cult - half a month of watching Su Ran lie still in the frozen chamber, half a month of failed searches for healers. With each passing day, hope dwindled in his heart.

"Second Master," a voice interrupted his thoughts, "the White Sects have reached the mountain's base. They'll attack soon."

"Let them come," Ji Chun replied calmly, dismissing the messenger with a wave. He settled into a cross-legged position, closing his eyes as he began circulating his qi according to that forbidden Shaolin technique - the dark martial art he'd memorized years ago but never dared practice... until now.

As the sounds of clashing steel and shouting voices echoed up the mountainside, Ji Chun's meditation grew unstable. His energy surged violently through reversed meridians, blood rushing to his head with searing pain. When he coughed up a mouthful of black blood, his eyes snapped open - his body now thrummed with unnatural power, every muscle burning with blood lust.

Moving with inhuman speed, he raced toward the sect gates, the wind howling in his ears. He barely registered the four kneeling cultists who reported: "The White Sects demand our Master's presence!"

Without breaking stride, Ji Chun marched forward, dozens of Demonic Cult disciples falling in behind him. Before he'd even cleared the threshold, crude insults reached his ears.

"Ji Chun!" a voice spat from the crowd. "The Demonic Cult's lapdog! Hand over your master!"

Ji Chun's sleeve flicked out almost lazily, sending the man flying with a burst of qi. "Leave," he commanded, scanning the so-called "White Dao Sect" - barely three hundred strong against the might of the entire Demonic Cult. "Di Mang isn't here."

Laughter answered him. "We know the demon is dead! We've come for his corpse - do you really think you can stop the thousands marching behind us?"

In a blur of motion, Ji Chun stood over the speaker, backhanding him to the ground. "Try me."

A swordsman lunged at him then, blade flashing. Ji Chun disarmed him effortlessly, sending him sprawling with a pulse of dark energy. The crowd hesitated until a slender figure stepped forward.

"You conspired with demons to slaughter righteous sects!" the newcomer cried. "Today, justice will be served!"

"Thousands of more troops are coming! The Demonic Cult will be destroyed today!" the man shouted defiantly.

Ji Chun moved like lightning, appearing before the speaker in an instant. His palm struck with brutal force, sending the man sprawling with blood gushing from his nose and mouth. "Not while I stand here," Ji Chun growled, his voice like winter frost.

A swordsman lunged from the crowd, his blade flashing toward Ji Chun's throat. "Let me test your skills!" he cried.

With barely a glance, Ji Chun sidestepped the attack. A single fluid motion - a raised arm, a shift of weight - and his opponent crashed to the ground, disarmed by a surge of dark qi.

The crowd hesitated until a slender figure darted forward. "You conspired with demons to slaughter righteous sects!" the masked fighter shouted in a voice that made Ji Chun's blood run cold. "Today I'll rid the world of your evil!"

Ji Chun's eyes widened. That voice—Ouyang Yixun's voice! Without thinking, he launched himself at the impostor.

Their battle became a whirlwind of lethal strikes. Ouyang Yixun moved with unexpected skill, matching Ji Chun's forbidden techniques blow for blow. When Ouyang Yixun backflipped through the air, a spray of silver needles shot from his sleeves. Ji Chun barely dodged, countering with a lightning kick to the abdomen.

The exchange left both men bloodied. Ouyang Yixun fought with terrifying desperation, Ji Chun with cold fury. For two brutal hours they clashed, their movements growing sluggish with exhaustion and blood loss.

In a final gambit, Ji Chun ripped away his opponent's mask—revealing Ouyang Yixun's true face, half-covered in those telltale crimson veins.

"It's him!" the crowd gasped. "The real murderer!"

As the White Sect warriors turned on Ouyang Yixun, the traitor unleashed a final burst of power, blasting everyone back before vanishing into the mist.

Darkness crept into Ji Chun's vision as his injuries and reversed qi overwhelmed him. The last thing he saw was the shocked faces of the Demonic Cult members rushing toward him before consciousness slipped away.