Rodney Luther, standing nearby, reacted with visceral horror, his face twisting as he realized the peril facing Emma Dawson, the junior sister whose stolen glances had stirred his heart. His bone-forged chain lashed out fiercely. The chain struck the traitor’s face with devastating force, obliterating him into a mist of blood and bone. But the damage was done. Emma groaned, clutching her waist where five bloody holes oozed purple-black blood.
Rodney’s heart pounded as he rushed to Emma’s side, his usual stoic demeanor fractured by the sight of her crumpling to the ground, her strength ebbing under the venom’s relentless assault.
"The hell?! Gunn Bale was cultivating the Five Poisons Finger technique!" Jorge barked, his voice cutting through the chaos as he fended off a pair of regenerated puppets with a sweep of his fan. "Quick, give Junior Sister Dawson the Venom Detox Pill before the wounds worsen!"
Rodney, wasting no time, rummaged through his storage pouch, his fingers closing around a jade vial. He tossed it toward Emma, but her faltering strength betrayed her, and she collapsed before she could catch it. Rodney stepped forward to steady her by the shoulder, his calloused hand gentle despite the urgency. Kneeling beside her, he pressed the pill to her delicate lips, coaxing her to swallow as her pale face trembled with pain, her breaths shallow and ragged. The pill dissolved on her tongue, its medicinal energy spreading through her meridians to combat the venom, but the purple-black blood continued to ooze, staining her dress and the stone floor beneath.
Jorge materialized beside them, his fan snapping shut as he deflected a puppet’s claw with a burst of spiritual energy, his voice firm yet tinged with concern. "Don’t forget to clean the wounds," he reminded.
Rodney hesitated, a flicker of embrassment crossing his face. The intimacy of the task, coupled with the unspoken message of her earlier glances, stirred a quiet unease in the stoic cultivator, whose heart was more accustomed to the battlefield than matters of affection. "Junior Sister Ann Marlph!" he called out. "Please come over and help Emma to treat the wounds dealt by the Five Poisons Finger technique."
At Rodney Luther’s call for other’s assistance on cleaning wound, Emma’s already pallid face drained further, a flicker of hurt passing through her pain-clouded eyes. Ann, standing nearby, shot a pleading glance at Jorge Blue, her blue dress catching the torchlight as she hesitated, visibly embarrassed by the charged atmosphere.
Feeling a pang of helplessness at the squad’s emotional tangle, Jorge sent a private voice transmission to Rodney, his tone a mix of exasperation and earnest concern. "Ahem, Junior Brother Luther, why are you so cold to Emma? Her feelings for you are no secret—everyone in the squad knows her heart belongs to you. Her aptitude is solid, her Eighth Layer Qi Refinement cultivation no burden to you or your clan’s fame, and she’s neither treacherous nor unkind. She’s beautiful, pleasant, and devoted. By keeping her at arm’s length, haven’t you hurt her too deeply?"
Jorge’s words carried the kind weight of a brother’s counsel. "Accepting her love could open doors to dual cultivation techniques, abundant in our holy sect, that would boost your cultivation. Emma’s pure infatuation is a rare gift—why let such affection go unanswered when it could strengthen your Dao?"
Rodney Luther, ever calm and composed even in the face of the relentless onslaught, revealed a rare crack in his stoic facade, his cheeks flushing with awkwardness at Jorge’s probing words. With a sigh, he replied through a voice transmission, his tone heavy with resolve yet tinged with regret. "How could I not notice Junior Sister Dawson’s deep fondness for me? It’s not that I’m blind to her devotion, Senior Brother Blue. But I swore an oath before my Luther Clan’s elders and chief to dedicate my life to pursuing the Great Dao, forsaking love and relationships to avoid splitting my focus. I had no choice but to disappoint Emma’s expectations, though it pains me to do so."
Jorge pressed further, his voice transmission laced with a brotherly mix of concern and frustration. "I feel you, bro, but Emma’s falling too deep into her love for you. If you reject her too harshly, your denial could become a lifelong barrier, even plant an Inner Demon in her Dao Heart, stunting her cultivation or worse. Have you considered the cost to her path?"
Rodney sighed deeply, his gaze softening as he glanced at Emma, her pale face etched with pain under Ann’s care. "You’re right, Senior Brother Blue," he admitted through transmission, his voice low and resolute. "That’s why I took this Hanz Clan Estate task by joining your Thirst Bull Squad. My great-granduncle, the Luther Clan Chief, has already secured a Foundation Establishment Pill for me, so this task held little personal allure. But I came to fight for an extra Foundation Establishment Pill for Emma, to repay her years of selfless, unrequited love. Once this emotional debt is settled, I can enter seclusion unburdened, free to ascend to the Foundation Establishment Stage without regrets."
Upon hearing Rodney’s word, Jorge was mid-transmission, his voice laced with concern as he urged Rodney to reconsider Emma’s devotion, when a sudden burst of energy tore through the chamber’s entrance, shattering the tense air like a thunderclap. A figure streaked into the arena with breathtaking speed, the man’s Abyss Pit Sect robes billowing as he moved with an eerie, almost mechanical precision.
Jorge Blue’s sharp gaze locked onto the intruder, his folding fan snapping open as he recognized the young man as a member of Garrick Blackthorn’s Thorn Squad, a Seventh Layer cultivator whose face was calm, almost icy demeanor belied his lower cultivation rank.
"Halt!" Jorge barked, his voice booming with authority, assuming the Thorn Squad had found nothing in their assigned scouting zone, the Hanz Clan Ancestral Shrine, and had come to encroach on the Thirst Bull Squad’s hard-won territory. "We claimed the arena first—state your purpose!"
But before he could finish, the young man’s figure shimmered, dissolving into a burst of crimson mist that slithered through the chaotic battlefield like a bolt of lightning, weaving past splintered Dao puppets and glowing Dao Fulu runes with unnatural agility.
In a heartbeat, he materialized before Rodney Luther, his movements so swift that even the Ninth Layer cultivators could only gape in shock. With a cold, expressionless face, the intruder yanked Emma Dawson’s arm, pulling the wounded beauty from the ground into his embrace. With a deft flip of his wrist, the man slammed the back of his bone blade against her neck, knocking her out with a precise, almost clinical strike, her body going limp in his arms.
The Thirst Bull Squad stood paralyzed, their minds reeling as if an exclamation mark had burst above each cultivator’s head, the shock of intrusion eclipsing even the arena’s relentless chaos.
Emma was still reeling from the sting of Rodney’s rejection—lost in a haze of self-pity and frustration. Her defenses were down, her mind unguarded. The sudden blow struck her, and the world went black before she hit the ground.
But what followed drove the crowd to the brink of madness, a scene so brazen it seemed ripped from the darkest corners of the Abyss Pit Sect’s forbidden tales. The man’s face an impassive mask, seized the lapels of Emma’s elegant orange gauze dress.
With a sharp "zwaaack—"
The man tore the dress apart, exposing her moon-white skin and the smooth curve of her shoulder, its innocent porcelain like glow catching the torchlight in a way that was both alluring and profane. The shredded gauze fluttered to the stone floor, discarded like a fleeting thought by the man, and then his hand moved with practiced ease to the beauty’s inner lace bra, his fingers unhooking it with a fluid motion that spoke of countless repetitions. His aura remained steady, his expression unmoved, the entire sequence unfolding with a chilling naturalness that stunned every cultivator into silence.
Lordi Payne himself was a prisoner of his own actions, his mind screaming in horror as the AllFullOS system puppeteered his body with ruthless precision.
"What kind of lowlife, scum-sucking, brain-dead motherfucker just snatches a girl in broad daylight like some dungeon degenerate goblin?!"
"And then rip her dress and bra off like a feral animal?!"
"Oh, perfect. Just perfect."
"THE ABYSSDAMN DISGUSTING PERVERT... IS ME?!"
Lordi raged inwardly, speechless.
Why the fuck had he trusted the cursed AwfulOS? His choice to cultivate the Nameless Technique had backfired spectacularly, this glitching system navigating him not to safety but to this chaotic place, where it had selected a random sect comrade as the generous "FREE" gift Dao Spouse.
As Lordi’s hand tugged at Emma’s lace thongs, deftly loosening it while his other hand began to undo his own robes, the arena’s eerie chaos surged to a fever pitch. Rodney Luther snapped out of his shock, his Ninth Layer Qi Refinement aura exploding with overwhelming fury, his eyes reddening as if stained with blood.
"F—U—C—K—I—N—G DIE!!! SCUM!!!"
The Ninth Layer elite cultivator roared, his voice a thunderous bellow that shook the chamber.