Reckoning

"Left eye twitches for fortune, right eye twitches for disaster—today is a good day to go out."

Pei Chong's left eyelid wouldn't stop twitching, putting him in excellent spirits.

As one of Pei Long's personal guards, after arriving at Corpse Sha Sect, his status had risen like a tide, making him the head of some Pei Family Sha-gathering squad, living a life of bullying and indulgence.

His hand slipped into the clothes of the gaunt woman beside him, kneading roughly.

The woman's face flushed red, tears swirling in her eyes, her expression deeply unnatural, yet she still strained to maintain a fawning look.

She had once been a stubborn woman, believing she could make a name for herself at Corpse Sha Sect, but once she arrived, she understood that stubbornness was the most useless thing of all.

Last month, she had only gathered three bottles of Sha Qi. To survive, she had no choice but to throw herself under Pei Chong's protection.

Pei Chong was walking along when he suddenly stopped, his gaze locking onto something in the distance. There, a withered spirit herb caught his eye, and he said joyfully:

"Brothers, I told you today we'd strike it rich, and look—fortune came knocking on its own."

Though the spirit herb was withered, spiritual energy seeped from it, clearly a good find.

Two underlings also noticed the herb and loudly flattered Pei Chong:

"The boss's eyes are sharp—I'd never have spotted it!"

"What do you mean sharp eyes? The boss has divine foresight!"

A windfall had landed, but Pei Chong's face showed some hesitation. This spirit herb appearing out of nowhere was far too suspicious.

After a long silence without his command, the two underlings grew anxious, their gazes burning as they fixed on him: "Boss, what's the call?"

Go, or not?

If he went, he feared it was a trap set by someone else—one wrong step and he'd be doomed;

But if he didn't go, watching the prize slip from his grasp right before his eyes was too bitter to swallow.

In his hesitation, the force in his hand unconsciously intensified.

The woman in his arms grimaced in pain, her teeth chattering, sweat trickling down her forehead.

"Boss, let the woman go," one underling suggested.

"Her? If she dies, who am I supposed to play with?" Pei Chong said with a sidelong glance. "Since you came up with the idea, you go pick it up."

"Me... Boss, actually, you could play with me too, it's not out of the question..."

"Stop the nonsense. If there's danger, we'll save you."

The underling had no choice but to go retrieve the herb.

He bent down, stopping with every step, holding his breath as he approached, then yanked the herb up in one go.

Scampering back, the underling handed the herb to Pei Chong, saying excitedly: "Boss, it's Clear Spirit Grass!"

Pei Chong was overjoyed—this single stalk of Clear Spirit Grass could fetch plenty of contribution points. He quickly stuffed it into his storage pouch.

The three continued walking, but they hadn't gone far when the underling who had picked the herb suddenly crashed to the ground with a thud.

"What the hell are you playing at?" Pei Chong had barely spoken when his own head began to spin.

He frantically tried to recall where things had gone wrong, and the next second, cold sweat drenched his back—

It was that Clear Spirit Grass!

The thought had just surfaced when his strength drained completely, his legs giving way as he slammed heavily to the ground.

The other underling, seeing this, was so terrified his soul nearly fled. He turned and bolted.

But a sharp "whoosh" sounded, and an arrow struck him in the back, sending him crashing down, alive or dead unknown.

Fang Huai, wearing a mask, stepped out from the shadows, drew his blade, and severed the heads of the three Pei Family men.

The gaunt woman had long since wet herself in terror, her head drooping as she dared not look Fang Huai in the eye.

"Lift your head!" Fang Huai cupped her chin, staring into her eyes. "Do you know me?"

"No!"

The woman recoiled in panic, and as Fang Huai pressed closer step by step, she finally broke, falling to her knees: "Senior Brother Fang, I swear I'll keep my mouth shut about today. Please, let me go."

Fang Huai sighed, then swung his blade across her throat: "May you be reborn into a better life next time."

These past few days, Fang Huai had moved like a ghost through the outskirts of Miasma Valley, slaughtering Pei Family disciples with reckless abandon.

The reason was simple: on the day he broke through, a letter had been slipped into his stone hut, summoning him to report to the Outer Sect Hall.

"Corpse Sha Sect's control over its disciples is terrifyingly thorough!"

Fang Huai's heart chilled. He had never mentioned his breakthrough to anyone—not even Liu Xiange and the others knew more than that his cultivation had advanced.

Yet the sect had detected it instantly and even pinpointed his dwelling to deliver the letter.

He had to go to the Outer Sect, but before entering, he needed to eliminate as many Pei Family disciples as possible.

Those caught alone, he shot from a distance; groups of three or five, he lured into traps, killing as many as he could.

Only when every Pei Family member he knew by sight had been butchered, and the survivors cowered in their dwellings too afraid to step out, did Fang Huai finally stop.

Fang Huai gathered Liu, Shen, and Zhang together and told them he would be leaving soon.

The three were filled with envy yet deeply reluctant to part.

Fang Huai shared his cultivation insights, left behind many items, and bid them farewell.

Just as he was about to step out of Servant Valley, Liu Xiange's voice came from behind: "Senior Brother Fang, will we have a chance to meet again?"

Fang Huai paused in his steps but did not turn back: "Don't worry, I'll be waiting for you at the Outer Sect Hall."

Half a day had passed since leaving Servant Valley, and Fang Huai's pace grew increasingly hurried.

Having left Servant Valley for the first time, and with the misguided directions from a well-meaning senior brother, he had gotten lost.

Seeing dusk approaching, he had no choice but to stop a kind-faced male cultivator at the fourth layer of Qi Refining, pressed a Clear Spirit Grass into his hand, and bowed to ask:

"This senior brother, it's getting late and this junior has nowhere to take shelter. Could you point me to a safe place to stay?"

"Shelter from what?" The male cultivator looked puzzled. "Who did you kill?"

Fang Huai froze: "Ahem, shelter from the Demonic Beasts that roam at night!"

The male cultivator fell into thought, then burst into laughter, unable to contain himself. He lightly patted his palm, and a demon head reeking of rot poked out from his pouch, drooling saliva as it warily eyed Fang Huai.

"Is this the kind of demonic creature you mean, Junior Brother?"

Fang Huai stepped back a few paces, gripping the blade at his waist: "Senior Brother..."

"Junior Brother came from Servant Valley, right?"

"Mm..."

The man showed a knowing expression: "After dusk, there are indeed many Sha Corpses and demon heads roaming Servant Valley, but these creatures are all raised by formal disciples and only attack servants."

Fang Huai couldn't believe it: "Only attack servants?"

"That's right," the male cultivator explained. "Formal disciples aren't allowed to kill each other, but servants are different. Once you report in and read the Outer Sect handbook, you'll understand these rules. Formal disciples can't casually kill servants, but they can drive Sha Corpses and demon heads into the valley at night, letting them find blood meals on their own."

Fang Huai was shocked: "Blood meals? Aren't servants also sect disciples?"

"Them? Sect disciples?" The male cultivator spat. "You've crawled your way out of Servant Valley too—you should know servants are no different from pigs and dogs. They'll do anything to complete their monthly tasks."

"But they're just trying to survive."

"Survive for what? Servants are just the sect's consumables. When one batch runs out, they just grab another batch from mortal towns."

Seeing Fang Huai silent, the male cultivator patted his shoulder: "The path you're on now leads to Skinning Peak. The senior and junior brothers there have bad tempers... If you want to go to the Outer Sect Hall, head southwest."

Fang Huai took his leave.

Though the male cultivator showed no concern for the lives of servants, he had at least pointed out the way, and Fang Huai owed him thanks.

Watching the man's retreating figure, Fang Huai memorized his name—Luo Heng.

If not for him, he might have been misled by that well-meaning senior brother straight to Skinning Peak to suffer.

He walked a while longer, and dusk arrived. Demonic Beasts roamed freely, and resentful spirits wailed in grief.

Weak demonic creatures howled and fled at the sight of Fang Huai. Those slightly stronger eyed him hungrily but, bound by sect rules, only watched from afar.

Suddenly, the night sky darkened sharply.

Fang Huai's heart tightened. He looked up and saw a hundred-zhang-long demonic centipede swaying through the air toward him.

Its limbs were wrapped in miasma, and its countless compound eyes gleamed with a bloody red light. Even its silhouette alone was enough to shake one's soul.

Demonic creatures screamed and scattered in all directions. Those too slow were sucked into the centipede's mouth.

This was actually a Foundation Establishment Realm demonic beast!

Its massive body blotted out the sky. As it passed, a few drops of venom fell, corroding deep pits into the earth, and poisonous miasma surged forward.

"Not good!" Fang Huai hurriedly covered his mouth and nose, but it was too late. "This poison is too fierce!"