Oen Shinae sensed something and began to turn her head—but then her expression twisted violently as her face morphed once more into Oen Yume.
The bone chains rattled, tightening around Lordi Payne, ready to crush him. Yet under Joanie's calm gaze, the massive Bone Bloom Curse flower withering on Lordi Payne's body dissolved into nothing in an instant.
Oen Yume jolted in shock. Her head spun 180 degrees, bones cracking—but before she could see who stood behind her, Joanie raised a single finger.
Oen Yume's head wrenched back into place—then her body collapsed with a heavy thud.
Lordi Payne tore off the wilted remains of the Bone Bloom and chains, hurrying to Joanie's side. "Many thanks, Lady Joanie."
She gave him a flat look—then her black hair surged, lengthening behind her like a living shadow. In the next moment, a dark tide engulfed Lordi Payne and Oen Shinae.
He barely had time to react before his vision blurred, consciousness slipping away. When he came to, he found himself standing at the entrance of Withered Orchid Villa—the Coffin of the Netherbloom Virgin beside him, Oen Shinae unconscious atop its lid.
Lordi Payne steadied himself, checked Oen Shinae's pulse, then stepped forward and knocked on the door.
A few moments later, in the guest hall of the Withered Orchid Villa, the air hung heavy with the scent of orchid blooms drifting from the surrounding garden. Kinson Wexford sat in the master chair, his face a storm of rage, eyes glinting like steel as he waved a female disciple forward to haul the unconscious Oen Shinae away. "What the hell happened out there?" he demanded coldly, voice sharp with barely restrained fury.
Lordi Payne steadied himself, bowing quickly before spilling the story. "Senior Brother Wexford—Sharky Ink was Miu Tyanh's mole all along. Fang Jit turned traitor too. When Miu Tyanh showed up, things went to chaos..."
Before Lordi could finish, Kinson Wexford cut in, slamming a fist against the table, his voice a growl: "Miu Tyanh?! That fucking bastard—a Bloodline Lord stooping to hunt an Outer Sect whelp? Shameless cur!"
Kinson stood up, paced, fury boiling over. "And Sharky Ink—a piece of miserable shit. Low talent, scraping by in the Inner Sect, a wretch I pitied. I gave him a lifeline under my Deathveil Bloodline—without me, he'd be worm food by now. And he repays me with betrayal? Ungrateful swine!" His eyes narrowed, a savage glint sparking. "You said you've devoured his essence with the external Fiend of Blood Fiend Blade Art? Very well. Even if you hadn't killed him, I would have crushed his bones to ash myself."
He spat Fang Jit's name next, venom dripping. "As for that spineless coward—years of my resources, his damn Nether Locust Gworm hand-picked by me. I thought he'd raise it to a Queen, save me the trouble. Greedy, spineless rat—death's too kind for him." A muscle twitched in Kinson Wexford's jaw, pain flickered beneath his rage—a pang for the lost of a talent potential gworm, a bitter waste that stung deeper than Fang Jit's treachery.
After a tense silence, Kinson Wexford calmed himself with a deep breath, he then fixed Lordi Payne with a steady gaze. "How'd you get out alive?"
Lordi Payne straightened, voice steady despite the ordeal. "Miu Tyanh was about to strike—then in a sudden he's disappeared. Before that, Senior Sister Oen cracked open the Coffin of Netherbloom Virgin to save me. We barely escaped the Skeleton Roost Mire when her face... it shifted. Turned into that child girl from the coffin—tried to kill me right there. Lady Joanie appeared, stopped her cold, and next thing I know, I'm here at the villa's gate with Senior Sister on her coffin."
Kinson Wexford nodded inwardly, a spark of understanding flaring. Fairy Lith's prized genius—makes sense she'd have Joanie lurking as a safeguard. Anticipation flickered in his eyes as he leaned closer. "And Miu Tyanh—dead or alive?"
Lordi Payne shook his head, uncertain. "Sorry I have no idea, Senior Brother. He uh... just vanished—Miu didn't show his face again before Lady Joanie hauled me back. So I don't know nothing."
Disappointment flashed across Kinson Wexford's face. If Miu Tyanh had died, the Wraithbone Bloodline would be vulnerable—a perfect chance for Deathveil's resurgence. But uncertainty left him stalled.
With a slight calculated sigh, "Alright, I've got the picture," Kinson Wexford said, forcing a smile, his tone softening. "Junior Brother Payne, I'm sorry—this mess shames me. My failure to rein in those dogs nearly cost you your life. Thank the abyss Senior Sister, her highness, had Lady Joanie watching—you slipped the danger noose."
Lordi Payne bowed deep, gratitude roughening his voice. "Senior Brother, don't blame yourself. Without your help—your kindness—I'd never have this fateful chance to obatin the Ice Pith Fire. I should thank you instead. Senior Brother, I owe you big, and I will never forget your great kindness."
Kinson Wexford's lips twitched into a faint, genuine smile. "Rest easy, then. I'll sort this out. You just fused that Dao Flame and crawled back from the Gworm Abyss—take a breather. Stay here, not the Outer Sect—too risky with assassins sniffing around. I'll get a suite fixed up for you."
He waved a servant disciple to escort Lordi Payne away, then lingered, lost in thought. A moment later, he rose and strode our of the villa.
At the same moment, the Wraithbone Residence Villa loomed under a sky bruised with storm clouds, its jagged spires piercing the gloom like the fangs of a buried beast. Miu Tyanh staggered through the gates, a broken figure—his indigo robe torn to blood-soaked rags, wounds weeping crimson trails across his flesh.
Inner Sect disciples rushed forward, their gasps echoing in the courtyard's oppressive hush.
A young voice cried, hands hovering as they steadied him. The medico disciples followed, wide-eyed and stammering, their tools clinking as they knelt to tend his gashes. "Bloodline Lord—what happened? How'd you end up ? What went down in the Gworm Abyss?" Another disciple pressed, voice trembling with disbelief.
Miu Tyanh's face was a mask of shadow, his eyes glinting with a cold, festering rage. He ignored their pleas, his voice a guttural snarl that cut through the clamor: "Send two men to Deerspring Town—massacre the Payne Clan. Every last soul."
"Damn it! That ghost bitch Joanie bound me with Inner Demon Oaths—no touching Lordi Payne until he reaches the Inner Sect. So be it. I swore it."
Miu Tyanh's lips twisted, his sneer a knife-edge of restraint. "But his family? No oaths protect them."
Hathered festered in his chest, thick as tar—Miu Toanh's death demanded payment in blood.
He'd scoured Lordi Payne's past like a vulture picking bones. A dead mother. A living father. A half-brother, Twu Payne. And a whole family of clan brothers and sisters.
Eighteen years of shared roofs and meals, no one shrugs off that kind of bond, not to mention this fucking runt who's fresh in the sect just for a few weeks.
"Even if this motherfucker doesn't care for his kin as deeply as I did for Toanh—decades under the same roof breed bonds. No one walks away untouched."
"This fucking bastard Lordi Payne had only been in the sect for weeks. The holy Sect hadn't yet scoured his stink from his clan bones. Let him learn his family died because of him. Let that knowledge fester."
"Sect Successor Lith protects him for his talent—nothing more."
"But Dao Heart shatters and talent breaks."
Miu Tyanh's fingers curled, nails biting flesh. His eyes narrowed, a flicker of cruel glee piercing the gloom. "Don't butcher them all at once. Spare his closest kin alive. Cage them. Bring them to me. I'll wield them myself"
In the Gworm Abyss, Miu Tyanh witnessed Lordi Payne's will—ironclad, unyielding—when fusing with the Dao Flame. What if the clan massacre didn't shatter him? What if he claws back from the grief? I'll cage his close kin, those stinky worms, alive like puppet, taunt him with their screams, grind his spirit to dust bit by bit.
"You want me become his grindstone, ghost bitch Joanie?" Miu Tyanh's smile split like a wound.
"I'll carve that motherfucker's Dao Heart to ribbons before he even dreams of Foundation Stage. He'll choke on his own ruin—never crawl an inch further."