- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- 1-3 posts per week
- Online Availability
- From 10 pm - 1 Am, Philippine Timezone
- Writing Levels
- Give-No-Fucks
- Adept
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Genres
- Medieval Fantasy, Modern Fantasy, Supernatural, Romance, Horror, Slice of Life
The night covered the mountain like a blanket, cold seeping through its threads. Despite the lanterns around the pavilions and houses, darkness found its way in the corners, the crevices, and the cracks. And in one of those spots, a pair of yellow eyes shone, the owner waiting for the right moment as the moon rose higher in the sky, illuminating the paths with slashes of light. It was quiet, and rightfully so, for most of the people here were either asleep or busy with their own personal business in their rooms. Others roamed around the grounds, making no sound, save for some small talk, on the pebbled paths as they patrolled the area from intruders. They were skilled warriors, cultivators in training. But unfortunately, despite their keen senses, some intruders would not be so easily detected.
Minutes passed, and the eyes shifted, and out of the shadows, a tall, slender figure clad in white stepped out. Small clouds passed from his lips, but he appeared unbothered by the cold. He glanced around, taking a few steps, and absolutely and deathly quiet the entire time. His steps were quick and certain, and never faltered even at the sound of voices around the corner.
The voices grew closer, but just as two cultivation juniors got to the area where the stranger was, there was no one and nothing there, except for the wind and the cold.
"That's odd," one of them murmured, sleeves billowing in the biting wind. "I could have sworn…"
"阿成,一定是你的想象," [It must have been your imagination, A-Cheng.] his partner replied pleasantly with a small chuckle, glancing around as well. "看到了吗?那里没有人。" [See? There is no one there.]
If they only glanced up, they would have seen the figure stepping from roof tile to roof tile, as graceful and light as a ghost. The moonlight struck his figure and gave him an eerie glow, even if there was no one to witness such a sight.
Half a minute later, he found his target's room. Wuji Sect leader Ma Yifan. An honorable man, with a talent for performing even the most complicated techniques. He had the virtues of a god, and the kindness of a good master. People adored him, and his disciples wanted to be just like him.
Being an honorable man could not save him from the creature outside his door.
Silently, the white-clad stranger slid his door open, and just as he was told, Ma Yifan was sleeping on the floor. He looked so peaceful, with a visage that was smooth and unmarred as undisturbed lotus pond.
What a shame it has to be stained with his own blood, the stranger thought almost jokingly, shutting the door behind him as he carefully approached the sect leader. Standing above Yifan's sleeping figure now, the stranger cocked his head, his yellow eyes filled with cold curiosity.
Behind him, a singular tentacle rose, as dark as the sclera of his eyes. So far, the sect leader was making no movements, as if he sensed nothing. How odd, the stranger thought. A man of such caliber should have at least woken up by now. It would be boring if he didn't.
As if to grant his wish, just as he aimed the tentacle at Yifan, the sect leader's eyes snapped open, and in his hand, a jade-handled knife appeared. In a flash, he stabbed it down the intruder's foot, who gave a animalistic hiss and leapt away, straight to the window, just as Yifan rolled up from his bed and yelled, "Now!"
The doors slid open once more, but so did the walls of the sect leader's room. Junior cultivators appeared, armed not with swords, but with odd balls of cloth. Within a few seconds, the stranger was surrounded, and he could only stand silently with a bleeding foot as he carefully observed his new enemies.
So he had been discovered. That was alright. He could handle them. He pulled the knife from his foot with another tentacle, and the sound of men swallowing from the anxiety and uncertainty filling the room.
The stranger's gaze swept over them. Strangely, they decided not to use their swords or charms. In fact, there was a strange shimmer on their cloth balls, like they were covered in something.
"Just as we were told," Yifan seethed from where he stood. "你的流血就此结束,杀人鬼。"
[This is the end of your bloodshed, man-killing ghost.]
The 'ghost' narrowed his eyes in confusion, but even at the sight of numerous arrows aimed at him, he appeared unruffled, his lips splitting into a bone-chilling grin.
"你真的应该让我杀了你。" [You really should have just let me kill you] he sighed, the regret in his voice clashing with the amusement on his face. Then from his back, more tentacles sprouted, each making a disgusting, squishy sound as they protruded from his body.
Sect leader Ma Yifan appeared unnerved, but he stood his ground. "Fire as soon as they are lit," he commanded. With a toss of a charm from his fingers, one by one orange fire engulfed the tips of the cloth balls, and the ghost finally understood.
Someone had told them how to ward them off. But who? He thought to himself, lashing out with his tentacles, aiming to take as many men as he could with him. He could not fail his mission. It was all he had. It was all he stood for. One tentacle went through one junior right through the chest, and others just sliced through the limbs. Baring his teeth, red mouths appeared all over the intruder's body, and he leapt at Ma Yifan just as fireballs rained over where the stranger had initially stood. Yifan impassively glared at him, and made a cutting motion with his hand.
A red line appeared across the stranger's body, and with it, a splash of blood. The blow slowed his descent and ruined the course of his leap, leaving him tumbling at Yifan's feet. Leaving him vulnerable enough for the first fireball to descend on his back.
Flames engulfed his white clothes, and bleeding out, the stranger clawed at himself, letting out the most terrible shriek, like an animal in a trap. He flailed around and so did his tentacles, causing the cultivators to stumble back out of his reach, as his tentacles too were burning bright. Wailing in tremendous pain, the intruder staggered backward, reaching for everything, anything, just so his agony would end, his tentacles trying to put out the fire only to have them burn too. But even in his madness, he aimed his eyes at the sect leader, and snapped out two more tentacles before those could burn too, each grabbing Yifan by each end.
"I… will not fail… here," the intruder gurgled out, and before anyone could react, pulled. He pulled, and the sect leader stretched like a piece of dough, but a screaming piece that is. He stretched, and he snapped, and like blood splattered and spilled everywhere like a wild waterfall.
The juniors were left stunned, and the stranger, breathing heavily, felt the fire crawl over the rest of him, restarting the pain that he was in. Staggering madly, he was deaf to the cries of the juniors, and drunkenly made way for the window. It was done. His mission was done, and he needed to flee, to find some water before he was going to be ashes.
He burst through the window, and in the dark of the night, with the moon and lanterns as the only source of night, Xuě Xū looked like a burning paper lantern as he fell.
"谁能告诉他们?" [Who could have told them?] Was his only thought, before he fell into the river below. His flames were indeed drenched and put out but the burns remained, leaving him wounded and bleeding in the water as he was carried by the river somewhere.
Then he was out, death cradling him and decided whether to keep the sorry creature or not.
Dialogue colour: #FF0000
Minutes passed, and the eyes shifted, and out of the shadows, a tall, slender figure clad in white stepped out. Small clouds passed from his lips, but he appeared unbothered by the cold. He glanced around, taking a few steps, and absolutely and deathly quiet the entire time. His steps were quick and certain, and never faltered even at the sound of voices around the corner.
The voices grew closer, but just as two cultivation juniors got to the area where the stranger was, there was no one and nothing there, except for the wind and the cold.
"That's odd," one of them murmured, sleeves billowing in the biting wind. "I could have sworn…"
"阿成,一定是你的想象," [It must have been your imagination, A-Cheng.] his partner replied pleasantly with a small chuckle, glancing around as well. "看到了吗?那里没有人。" [See? There is no one there.]
If they only glanced up, they would have seen the figure stepping from roof tile to roof tile, as graceful and light as a ghost. The moonlight struck his figure and gave him an eerie glow, even if there was no one to witness such a sight.
Half a minute later, he found his target's room. Wuji Sect leader Ma Yifan. An honorable man, with a talent for performing even the most complicated techniques. He had the virtues of a god, and the kindness of a good master. People adored him, and his disciples wanted to be just like him.
Being an honorable man could not save him from the creature outside his door.
Silently, the white-clad stranger slid his door open, and just as he was told, Ma Yifan was sleeping on the floor. He looked so peaceful, with a visage that was smooth and unmarred as undisturbed lotus pond.
What a shame it has to be stained with his own blood, the stranger thought almost jokingly, shutting the door behind him as he carefully approached the sect leader. Standing above Yifan's sleeping figure now, the stranger cocked his head, his yellow eyes filled with cold curiosity.
Behind him, a singular tentacle rose, as dark as the sclera of his eyes. So far, the sect leader was making no movements, as if he sensed nothing. How odd, the stranger thought. A man of such caliber should have at least woken up by now. It would be boring if he didn't.
As if to grant his wish, just as he aimed the tentacle at Yifan, the sect leader's eyes snapped open, and in his hand, a jade-handled knife appeared. In a flash, he stabbed it down the intruder's foot, who gave a animalistic hiss and leapt away, straight to the window, just as Yifan rolled up from his bed and yelled, "Now!"
The doors slid open once more, but so did the walls of the sect leader's room. Junior cultivators appeared, armed not with swords, but with odd balls of cloth. Within a few seconds, the stranger was surrounded, and he could only stand silently with a bleeding foot as he carefully observed his new enemies.
So he had been discovered. That was alright. He could handle them. He pulled the knife from his foot with another tentacle, and the sound of men swallowing from the anxiety and uncertainty filling the room.
The stranger's gaze swept over them. Strangely, they decided not to use their swords or charms. In fact, there was a strange shimmer on their cloth balls, like they were covered in something.
"Just as we were told," Yifan seethed from where he stood. "你的流血就此结束,杀人鬼。"
[This is the end of your bloodshed, man-killing ghost.]
The 'ghost' narrowed his eyes in confusion, but even at the sight of numerous arrows aimed at him, he appeared unruffled, his lips splitting into a bone-chilling grin.
"你真的应该让我杀了你。" [You really should have just let me kill you] he sighed, the regret in his voice clashing with the amusement on his face. Then from his back, more tentacles sprouted, each making a disgusting, squishy sound as they protruded from his body.
Sect leader Ma Yifan appeared unnerved, but he stood his ground. "Fire as soon as they are lit," he commanded. With a toss of a charm from his fingers, one by one orange fire engulfed the tips of the cloth balls, and the ghost finally understood.
Someone had told them how to ward them off. But who? He thought to himself, lashing out with his tentacles, aiming to take as many men as he could with him. He could not fail his mission. It was all he had. It was all he stood for. One tentacle went through one junior right through the chest, and others just sliced through the limbs. Baring his teeth, red mouths appeared all over the intruder's body, and he leapt at Ma Yifan just as fireballs rained over where the stranger had initially stood. Yifan impassively glared at him, and made a cutting motion with his hand.
A red line appeared across the stranger's body, and with it, a splash of blood. The blow slowed his descent and ruined the course of his leap, leaving him tumbling at Yifan's feet. Leaving him vulnerable enough for the first fireball to descend on his back.
Flames engulfed his white clothes, and bleeding out, the stranger clawed at himself, letting out the most terrible shriek, like an animal in a trap. He flailed around and so did his tentacles, causing the cultivators to stumble back out of his reach, as his tentacles too were burning bright. Wailing in tremendous pain, the intruder staggered backward, reaching for everything, anything, just so his agony would end, his tentacles trying to put out the fire only to have them burn too. But even in his madness, he aimed his eyes at the sect leader, and snapped out two more tentacles before those could burn too, each grabbing Yifan by each end.
"I… will not fail… here," the intruder gurgled out, and before anyone could react, pulled. He pulled, and the sect leader stretched like a piece of dough, but a screaming piece that is. He stretched, and he snapped, and like blood splattered and spilled everywhere like a wild waterfall.
The juniors were left stunned, and the stranger, breathing heavily, felt the fire crawl over the rest of him, restarting the pain that he was in. Staggering madly, he was deaf to the cries of the juniors, and drunkenly made way for the window. It was done. His mission was done, and he needed to flee, to find some water before he was going to be ashes.
He burst through the window, and in the dark of the night, with the moon and lanterns as the only source of night, Xuě Xū looked like a burning paper lantern as he fell.
"谁能告诉他们?" [Who could have told them?] Was his only thought, before he fell into the river below. His flames were indeed drenched and put out but the burns remained, leaving him wounded and bleeding in the water as he was carried by the river somewhere.
Then he was out, death cradling him and decided whether to keep the sorry creature or not.
Dialogue colour: #FF0000
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