Chapter 2: Heaven Sends Bloodshed

At night, the wind howled, lightning flashed, and thunder rumbled. Tiny raindrops began to fall gently from the night sky as Xiao Chen walked alone on a mountain path. The cold rain hitting his body made him feel incredibly refreshed, washing away the anger from the day.

The Immortal Dao Sect was a secluded sect on the westernmost edge of the Tian Yue Continent and the only sect near Feng Yue City. Xiao Chen had joined the Immortal Dao Sect three years ago. The benevolent sect leader couldn't bear to see a young boy suffer such pain and allowed him to join, giving him a chance regardless of success.

A strong scent of blood emanated from the Immortal Dao Sect, and a dense blood mist lingered in the air above the entire sect, refusing to dissipate, creating an eerie atmosphere.

"What's going on? Why is the sky red? What's this smell? This… this is blood."

Upon arriving at the sect, Xiao Chen saw the eerie blood mist in the sky illuminated by lightning and smelled the scent of blood. He saw fresh blood mixed with the rain flowing on the ground. Stunned for a moment, he then hurriedly ran towards the Immortal Dao Sect.

"Boom!"

A lightning bolt split the sky, illuminating the darkened sect. Upon closer inspection, there were blood-soaked corpses everywhere, the sight unbearable. All the disciples of the Immortal Dao Sect had been slaughtered, the blood flowing like a river, staining the rainwater red.

Seeing this scene, Xiao Chen was struck with terror, his face turning pale instantly. He had no idea what had happened. In a blink of an eye, all the disciples of the Immortal Dao Sect were dead.

In the plaza, a middle-aged man was holding up an Immortal Dao Sect disciple, coldly asking, "Where is the Wind Spirit Jade?"

The middle-aged man appeared to be in his twenties, wearing a white robe with black hair draped over his shoulders. His expression was icy, and his eyes were as sharp as swords, instilling fear in anyone who saw them.

The disciple did not answer but instead looked at the man with a mocking smile.

"I asked you, where is the Wind Spirit Jade?" the man repeated coldly, his voice heavy and filled with killing intent.

The disciple of the Immortal Dao Sect sneered, "Hmph! Who knows?"

The middle-aged man's eyebrows furrowed, and his right hand swiftly pierced the disciple's chest, causing blood to spurt out. The disciple died instantly.

"Senior Brother Tian Ming!" Xiao Chen screamed in terror, his small frame trembling, his eyes filled with anger, fear, despair, and sorrow.

"I admire your fearlessness," the middle-aged man said coldly, not blinking an eye. He casually tossed the disciple's body aside as if discarding trash.

Watching Senior Brother Tian Ming's body being thrown away, Xiao Chen could no longer contain his rage. He charged forward, shouting angrily, "Who are you? Why are you doing this? Why?"

The middle-aged man glanced coldly at Xiao Chen and waved his hand, sending Xiao Chen flying. He said coldly, "Turns out you're just a waste with no true essence."

Xiao Chen could no longer speak, feeling as if a heavy stone had struck his chest. His mouth filled with blood, and he couldn't even stand up.

"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"

Suddenly, several figures appeared in the plaza of the Immortal Dao Sect with the sound of breaking air.

"Did you find the Wind Spirit Jade?" the middle-aged man asked coldly, looking at the newcomers.

One of them shook his head, "We searched the entire sect but couldn't find any trace of the Wind Spirit Jade."

Another person added suspiciously, "In such a remote place, could there really be a Wind Spirit Jade? This Immortal Dao Sect is just a small sect. Does Qing Yang really have the Wind Spirit Jade?"

The middle-aged man's eyes flashed with a cold light, as terrifying as a venomous snake. He said coldly, "That stubborn old Qing Yang would rather sacrifice the lives of his disciples than hand over the Wind Spirit Jade. Hmph!"

"This kid seems to be the waste from the Xiao family. We saw his portrait when we arrived. I wonder if this waste knows anything about the Wind Spirit Jade," one person mocked, his eyes flashing with disdain.

"Just a waste. Qing Yang wouldn't be foolish enough to give the Wind Spirit Jade to a waste."

The middle-aged man remained expressionless, coldly glancing at Xiao Chen and then at the large eerie blood mist above the Immortal Dao Sect. He said coldly, "The blood mist in the sky is strange. Let's retreat and report to the sect leader."

"What about this waste?" one person asked, pointing at Xiao Chen.

"A waste is not worthy of dying by my hand," the middle-aged man said coldly, leaving without looking back.

After the mysterious people left, Xiao Chen's tense nerves finally relaxed. He collapsed to the ground, having just endured the humiliation from the Yang family during the day, and now witnessing the destruction of his sect. Xiao Chen was overwhelmed with fear.

Looking at the corpses of the sect's disciples, Xiao Chen wept bitterly, his heart filled with grief, anger, helplessness, and despair. His mind replayed the mocking words of the mysterious men and the many memories of the Immortal Dao Sect.

Xiao Chen had always had a dream, a dream shared by everyone on the Tian Yue Continent—to become the strongest in the world. Even though he was a waste, he firmly believed in this dream. It was this belief that kept him going through twelve years of hardship, making him more diligent and mature than his peers.

However, that dream was now completely shattered. The sudden massacre left him at a loss. Despite being more mature and composed than his peers, he was still terrified in the face of such brutal slaughter.

Seeing the disciples of the Immortal Dao Sect dead before him, Xiao Chen felt a deep sense of powerlessness for the first time. At the same time, he also felt an unprecedented desire for power.

"A waste is not worthy of dying by my hand!" This sentence deeply wounded Xiao Chen, and he couldn't bear such an insult. It was because of this sentence that Xiao Chen's heart burned with a desire for revenge.

"Thump, thump!"

The desire for revenge grew stronger, and his heart began to beat faster. His eyes filled with boundless killing intent and anger.

"I will make you pay for those words! And the Yang family, I will make you regret it! I will avenge the people of the Immortal Dao Sect! I want revenge! Ah!"

As he recalled the mocking words of the mysterious men and the humiliation from the Yang family, the immense pressure of these dual burdens made Xiao Chen completely furious. His heart ached as if being stabbed, and in his rage, he let out a long, furious roar towards the sky, his eyes flashing with blood-red light.

"Whoosh!"

At that moment, the blood mist above the Immortal Dao Sect began to spin rapidly, forming a massive vortex. In the center of the vortex, a tiny blood-red light descended from the sky, striking Xiao Chen's forehead. An eerie phenomenon occurred as the large blood mist above the sect started being absorbed into Xiao Chen's forehead. At that moment, Xiao Chen's entire small frame emitted a dazzling blood-red light, followed by an overwhelming ancient aura that briefly filled the air before disappearing.

In his rage-filled roar, Xiao Chen didn't seem to notice this strange occurrence. Finally, unable to withstand the immense pressure, he fainted. At this moment, Xiao Chen's body began to undergo changes.