Chapter 69: Chapter 69
Now, Ashen realized, this was not merely a message—it was a killing order. He felt a dark weight settle in his chest as a bitter complaint echoed in his heart.
Fifty years had passed since the sect sent him any news. And yet, this time, it was a command drenched in death.
Slowly, with practiced hands, Ashen unsealed the ancient instructions from the Black Demon Sect.
His eyes narrowed at the ominous crimson mark emblazoned at the top—a single, haunting character: "Death."
More than a word, it was a talisman of destruction.
Beneath it, a name was etched.
"Ethan?"
The name twisted something inside Ashen’s memory. It tugged faint and faintly familiar, like a shadow glimpsed at dusk. His fingers hovered, then closed firmly on the kill order, wary yet compelled.
A ghostly voice whispered in his ears, breaking the silence:
"Demon Guard Ashen, heed the order. Ancestor Azraeth V’khorath, bound in the Demon-Sealing Cave, has used the bloodline secret method to send this message from the Azure Origin Dao Sect."
"A peerless genius has emerged within the Azure Origin Dao Sect," the voice continued, each syllable heavy with urgency.
"His name is Ethan. Find him. Kill him. At any cost!"
The last commands rang in Ashen’s ears like thunderclaps.
The Black Demon Sect did not hand out death orders lightly. Their targets were rare—warriors of unmatched talent, formidable strength, unyielding will. To fulfill such an order was to pay a severe price, often with blood and bone.
Ashen’s mind raced. The name Ethan stirred memories, fragments of stories long buried in the recesses of his thoughts. He recalled the disciple imprisoned a decade ago in the chilling embrace of Serene Mirror Lake.
That Ethan—the one accused by the saintess of sneaking into the female disciples bathing area—was once an outcast, exiled and scorned. A mere outer sect disciple, known for modest prowess in physical cultivation, nothing of the brilliance or status worthy of such a deadly decree.
Yet this order was different.
"No," Ashen murmured, pacing the small room as uncertain shadows flickered on cold stone walls.
"The Ethan named here must be a threat greater than even Saintess Seraphina."
His eyes glowed with grim determination. "Only someone who surpasses her could warrant the sect’s death edict."
The name haunted him. Could there be more than one Ethan in the Azure Origin Dao Sect? A disciple hidden in obscurity but rising in strength?
His thoughts spun toward the grim realities of Serene Mirror Lake.
The place where exiled disciples were forced daily to sweep tombs. The unyielding cold, the omnipresent malevolent yin energy, the slow corrosion of flesh and spirit. Few emerged with progress, many stagnated or perished.
Yet, rumors persisted—whispers of those who grew against the odds, their bodies refining in the tomb’s frozen embrace.
Ancestor Azraeth V’khorath’s message had to be true.
Perhaps this Ethan had potential so strong that even the sect and he, himself had not noticed by now.
The Demon-Sealing Cave lay adjacent to Serene Mirror Lake’s foreboding mountains. The bloodline secret method was old and costly, a whisper from a trapped ancestor committed at great personal sacrifice.
Ashen’s eyes burned with realization.
"What if Ethan had encountered the ancestor? What if the ancestor had sensed his talent?"
The possibilities churned in Ashen’s mind, but he stilled himself. Speculation could not alter the sect’s will.
"The sect’s orders should never fail," he reminded himself, voice thick with resolve.
"I must find this Ethan. I must kill him—silently, swiftly."
A ruthless plan took root.
Ashen would spare no hesitation.
He would hunt down every disciple named Ethan within the Azure Origin Dao Sect. No slips, no doubts.
The order was clear: at any cost.
Even if exposed, even if shattered beyond recognition, even if death claimed him before his mission’s end—failure was not an option.
Ashen’s eyes glinted with cold resolve and lethal intent.
His fingers traced the lines of the Azure Origin Dao Sect’s map sprawled before him.
Like a strategist of war, he began silently marking positions, connecting the labyrinthine paths twisting through the sect’s peaks and valleys.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed outside his chamber.
Quickly, Ashen concealed the map and incantations behind spiritual barriers, then straightened his robes and composure.
He slid the door open calmly.
Before him stood a disciple from Azure Sky Peak, eyes lowered reverently.
"What news?" Ashen demanded.
The disciple’s voice was steady but carried an edge of urgency.
"Elder Ashen, the Punishment Hall has issued the annual penalty reduction notice."
"They always send this notice. Usually it is trivial and unattended by elders."
"But—there is a name on this list that concerns you."
"A disciple named Ethan stands now at the Azure Sky Peak’s gate, clasping the Azure Sky Jade Pendant."
"He claims the intent to join Azure Sky Peak directly."
Ashen’s heart stuttered in quiet surprise.
"Ethan?"
The name sparked recognition—and uncertainty. The same Ethan bound by the killing order had appeared of his own volition, seeking entry to the very peak Ashen guarded.
The disciple watching Ashen’s reaction continued without pause.
"This is unusual. Such a manifest approach is rare."
Ashen considered the signs while suppressing flickers of doubt.
The Jade Pendant—it was a powerful token, a symbol of direct discipleship at Azure Sky Peak.
Destiny and fortune had been woven by the peak elders when such tokens were granted, compelling the bearer’s acceptance.
"If this Ethan carries the pendant, it means the peak has marked him for something significant," Ashen thought grimly.
Without further hesitation, Ashen nodded.
"I will see this Ethan for myself," he said, voice heavy with hidden anticipation, then vanished like a shadow.
Meanwhile, Ethan stood outside the imposing gates of Azure Sky Peak.
Around him, disciples moved with purpose, their gazes occasionally flicking with curiosity.
The cold air brushed his skin; the countless steps he had taken weighed on his shoulders.
Inside, a familiar frustration brewed.
"Why does the news travel so slowly?" he pondered silently.
Before long, a surge of powerful aura cut through the mountain mist.
From the eastern sky, a bright stream of light danced swiftly over the forest canopy.
Disciples nearby halted, eyes wide with awe and respect.
They bowed in unison as the figure descended.
"I have met Elder Ashen," whispered one to another, voices trembling with reverence.
Ethan’s eyes sharpened, anticipation and wariness mingling in their depths.
The moment had come.
A/N:
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