---
A thin barrier materialized, encircling both the stake and the aura—designed to permanently contain the demonic energy.
"Good. It's time to go!"
Tiān Lu shifted direction and raised his hand high.
"Vanish!"
His consciousness dissipated, like sand swept away by a desert storm—erased from existence.
---
The sky had a sickly golden hue, as if adorned with a sliver of pure gold. The sun's faint light shone weakly on the pool, illuminating the remnants of its reflection and stirring fresh questions in Zhāng Yù's mind.
He sat cross-legged on the ground, his back leaning against a nearby tree. Its yellowish bark reflected in his eyes and penetrated deep into his thoughts.
He was thinking of nothing—his mind was utterly blank. Only his silvery eyes shimmered, tinted by the reflection of the pool.
At some point, he could no longer resist. He rose and walked toward the pool until just two steps separated them.
He gazed at it—his face appeared distorted, unstable, wavered at the slightest breeze.
He watched in silence as the ripples in the water swayed with the wind—his focus fixed on one thing: the movement of those ripples, growing faint as the sunlight waned.
He sensed that something had changed.
His leg bent as he leaned over the water. His reflection grew clearer, yet still blurred—an accurate mirror of his current state.
"Just water showing me I'm… messed up? Since when do mere reflections judge a man? Hmph!"
He slammed his hand into the water. His reflection vanished. Zhāng Yù straightened himself.
He stepped back and placed his palm on the tree. A few droplets trickled off his hand onto the bark, darkening its color. Then he sat and leaned back.
"Damn it… what's happening?" Zhāng Yù thought.
"It's been days and nothing's changed. This started when that Tiān Lu collapsed! Since then, not a single day has passed without someone important falling ill in the caravan."
"Could we have walked into a trap?"
Countless questions knocked at Zhāng Yù's mind, circling through his thoughts, seeking answers—but their sparkle quickly faded and they disappeared.
He closed his eyes and rested for a moment before hearing a shout, "Time to move—only a few days left. Get going!"
Zhāng Yù opened his eyes—bloodshot lines marked them, proof of sleepless nights. He groaned, sighed, and rose.
The caravan was impeccably organized. At standstill, the troops formed concentric rings around the prince's carriage; each ring held carriers of various importance depending on their proximity to the carriage.
The innermost ring was the elite, those strongest in the caravan. The second and third rings formed the main battle force—mobilized in case of attack.
The fourth and fifth rings were the human shields—the first to die if combat broke out.
During travel, they proceeded in a column or square formation: central troops surrounded the carriage on all four sides, followed by the main forces, then the shields.
"Distributors! I repeat—distributors, step forward! We have a new formation!"
The soldiers stirred the moment they heard the order. Distributors were the ones to allocate positions within the rings. The soldiers dared not yawn or make a sound—they were on high alert, as if in battle, ready to die at any moment.
"A new formation? Didn't they change it two days ago?" Zhāng Yù murmured as he looked up at the sky. The sun was setting, watching over them from behind a veil of clouds.
Zhāng Yù reached one of the distributors after waiting in line. The man stared at him for a few seconds before asking, "Are you Zhāng Yù?"
Zhāng Yù met his gaze and nodded gravely.
"We've orders to place you in the central ring. Go—now."
Silence was their only right here. Soldiers? Pathetic—they had no say. What right did they have?
Some ground their teeth; others their nails nearly pierced their flesh.
One soldier seethed: "I've been serving for ten years… ten years of torment! I've suffered slavery and suppression! I couldn't visit my wife and sick daughter! Not one promotion in ten years… And now they place this rat—who joined just days ago—in the central ring?! Damn that son of a bitch!"
Another thought greedily, "It's a golden opportunity! He seems young and naive—if I butter him up, maybe I'll get ahead! Hehe, genius me!"
Their arms trembled—each shake echoing deep-seated fear. Their voices no longer sounded like human speech; fractured, stuttering, volatile.
They sweated profusely—their skins chafing, burning with tension. Their minds raced relentlessly.
Their eyes were open—but devoid of life.
A small number in the central ring viewed them as weeds, ripe for pulling—and no one would blame them; they'd be praised for purging a nuisance.
Now they said they were adding a new one? And not just anyone—someone weak, barely a week into the caravan?
Of course, no one dared look at Zhāng Yù directly. They repressed themselves, averting their gazes as usual.
But their collective shock outweighed Zhāng Yù's own feelings by far.
He was stunned—his eyes widened. But that feeling vanished within seconds, replaced by realization as he felt their invisible stares.
"Is this… what supremacy feels like? Heh heh, it's amazing—truly amazing!"
"You slaves! If I slaughtered your mothers now, not a one of you would flinch! Ha! This is delightful!"
His internal laughter was low at first, then rose—and finally erupted. A strike of a whip in the air, lashing their skins in his mind!
The atmosphere grew colder, but the soldiers' heads burned with frenzy!
Zhāng Yù nodded and strode toward the central ring.
Head held high, proud of his status, he took big steps.
It was like ascending to the heavens in a single stride, oblivious to the heads beneath his feet. Unconcerned whether the sky above was real or illusion—he walked in the guise of authority!
He never bothered to check the sky, nor did he glance at the myriad eyes locked on him with envy, flattery, fear.
He advanced—embracing every hateful, submissive, terrified gaze. He savored them all, even the faintest ones.
Step by step—one, two, three… six… ten…
"Huh?!"
"I can't move!"
On the sixteenth step, he froze. Not just him—time itself halted. The world stood still. Even his eyelids refused to blink.
"Damn! What's happening?! I was on my way to the top!"
"Who dares to… distur—?"
Before he could finish, something pierced his exhilaration—a sensation like a rusty blade stabbing his heart!
It felt like a dagger, more piercing than mountains, imperious as the sun, cold as the night.
"Why… am I trembling?"
After several seconds, he managed to move an eye. He looked at his hand—it was shaking uncontrollably. His gaze went dark—dilated without warning. A rush of air into his eyes burned them dry.
"I… I'm scared?"
He couldn't blink—everything within his body seemed no longer his own, but controlled by another.
He raised his eyes to take in the warping reality. Colors fractured and overlapped. It felt hallucinatory yet vividly real.
He tried to look toward the central ring—but couldn't. Even moving his eyes felt heavier than lifting trees.
"I… what… is… happening?"
The world through Zhāng Yù's eyes was no longer as it had been—it had become inevitable chaos. His surroundings cracked and reformed: carriages merged with branches; colors bled into each other, faded, then crashed into new hues.
" Why i felt sleepy…?"
Keeping his eyes open was a monumental effort—his mind strained beyond capacity.
"—I… can…' t…"
Earlier, his body had been frozen, shaking uncontrollably. Now control slowly returned—and he collapsed.
His mind couldn't multitask. Merely sustaining his senses had become overwhelming under this pressure.
---
Zhāng Yù opened his eyes, rubbed his head—it throbbed from what had happened.
"Ouch, that's… painful."
"That's not important—what matters is… where am I?"
He looked around—there was no light, not a glimmer.
"It hurts… yes, it hurts… What the hell happened?"
He tried to rise—but his muscles were tense and battered.
Again and again he tried, until finally he stood on his feet.
He looked down—his eyes widened and his throat constricted. He tried to step back, but collapsed at the sight before him.
"Huh? Is this… my reflection on water?!"
"How do I reflect without light? How am I standing on water?!"
"Wait… if that's me… then what is covering my body?!"
He only saw his face—but it wasn't his. It was coated in viscous black oil, like it was swallowing him whole. His features were grotesque, twisted by some horrifying ecstasy.
He grinned in that ecstasy—his eyes entirely black, radiating a bizarre, frightening elation.
"Wait… wait a moment! Isn't this the same pool I saw earlier?"
He stared at the water and realized—astonished—that it was an exact replica of the pool before the reformation announcement.
"No… no! I am not that hideous monster! I am not him! Back off!"
He tried to retreat—but only saw his mouth smiling at him beneath the surface, as if it were a separate entity.
It smiled… and disgust rose within him. Pride followed by contempt. The other face shifted swiftly, perfectly aligned with his own original features.
Zhāng Yù ran ignoring his aching muscles—but his weakened body gave out, and he collapsed again.
He lifted his head—his pupils narrowed. That reflection stared back at him with even greater terror!
"Ah!!!"
He screamed in fear, forcing himself up and running—but even that failed him.
Suddenly, a droplet fell before him. Time froze. He watched as his reflection formed within it.
The droplet's reflection differed slightly. The black oil had spread further across his face, and its expression mutated rapidly.
This time, his mouth formed shapes—shadowy words mocking Zhāng Yù.
Then time resumed. There was no moment to absorb the shock—the droplets began falling like a storm.
Each drop carried a warped face with shifting expressions and messages, and Zhāng Yù finally fell to his knees.
Terror gripped him. The muscles in his face tensed to their limits. His eyes constricted completely. A cold sweat spread across his back.
He fell sideways, then folded over so that his knees touched his stomach. His eyelids trembled as he closed them.
He bent his arm, pressing it to his ear. His body shook entirely, and then his eyes exploded into tears as his mouth emitted a high-pitched wail.
"Ahhhhhhh!!!"
"Go away from me! Who are you!!! I'm not a demon!! I did nothing! I didn't punish!!"
As Zhāng Yù collapsed into his sobs, he didn't realize the world around him began to shatter—it cracked like a broken mirror: scratches, fractures, then collapse!
It was as if the world was tied to his scream; the louder he shrieked, the more it splintered.
At some point, the world collapsed entirely.
---
Zhāng Yù opened his eyes—destroyed, though unaware of what had brought him here.
His vision was far from steady, but he certainly didn't feel taller than usual.
As he focused, he realized he was hanging in mid‑air.
Moments later, a surge of emotion washed over him.
He clenched all his muscles and raised his hands to his neck—he was not hanged by rope or chain, but pierced through the neck by a tree branch.
"Uhhhmm!!!"
Immediately, emotions flooded him. He tried to scream—but only a whimper echoed in his mind.
Blood gushed from his neck and mouth, his eyes rolled upward—his mind shattered.
---