Lin Shijin finally understood what Fuheng meant. With the Blood Refining Array combined with the terrain, the magma beneath had been churned up. Not only did they have to avoid the magma, they also had to fight their companions and search for an exit.
Screams rang out. Some disciples had accidentally touched the magma and were instantly engulfed by searing flames, their cries sharp and harrowing.
A figure appeared in front of Lin Shijin. Sheng Rufei stood before him, an invisible barrier spreading open. The magma, once at the bottom of the cliff, was now rising continuously, stopping at the edge of the stone platform, with occasional splashes spilling outward.
“Shixiong, we’re inside the Blood Refining Array now.”
Every disciple within the array was bound by red threads, tethering them in place and preventing them from leaving the platform.
And that figure earlier… was that Shouque?
Sheng Rufei gave a quiet “mm,” a shadow falling across his brows as his sword slid slightly from its sheath. “This formation amplifies the destructive impulses in people. Stay here for now. Don’t go out.”
Lin Shijin did not understand at first, until several figures appeared before them. They were dressed like disciples of immortal sects, but their gazes passed over Sheng Rufei and settled on him.
“Where is Qiushui? If you tell us now, we can spare you.”
All around them, disciples struggled to sever the red threads binding them. The clash of weapons rang out, sparks scattering across the stone platform. Some turned to look at them, while others had already formed factions.
Lin Shijin caught sight of ghostly markings beneath one disciple’s sleeve, clearly disguised for Qiushui.
He tugged lightly at Sheng Rufei’s sleeve and whispered, “Shixiong, I can fight too.”
Sheng Rufei pressed down on his fingertips and quietly said, “Be obedient,” before stepping in front of him.
The longsword left its sheath, a streak of cold white light cutting through the air as overwhelming pressure spread outward. Several cultivators drew their swords at once.
Lin Shijin watched Sheng Rufei engage them, knowing he was being protected, yet unable to simply remain within the barrier.
When he saw several cultivators surround Sheng Rufei and a blade about to strike, his heart tightened. Without thinking, he stepped out.
“Stop—”
His mind tensed. Sheng Rufei was strong enough to handle it, but he still drew his sword. Silver light scattered like a sky full of stars, and for a moment, everything fell silent.
Some dodged. Some did not. Those who failed to evade were struck, blood splashing as they collapsed.
It was Lin Shijin’s first time attacking another person. His fingers trembled slightly, that familiar unease rising again. But when his gaze landed on Sheng Rufei, the feeling vanished completely.
Their clash seemed to signal something. The blood mist thickened, several disciples’ eyes turned red, and swords collided in a frenzy. The air filled with violent, suffocating bloodlust.
Sheng Rufei remained uninjured, though his brows were faintly furrowed. Seeing Lin Shijin step out, he clearly disapproved.
“Shixiong, I want to help you.”
Lin Shijin noticed others turning toward him and grabbed Sheng Rufei’s sleeve. “I’m worried about you being alone.”
“If you come out, I’ll only be more distracted. This formation is not unsolvable, but before that…”
He did not finish.
A blade struck from the side. Sheng Rufei blocked it, the impact dispersing with a loud crash as the attacker vanished into the black mist.
“I can’t stand seeing you hurt,” Sheng Rufei said, tapping the boy’s head lightly.
This was a forbidden array. Soon, everyone inside would descend into slaughter. Until Lin Shijin obtained Qiushui, he had to keep him safe.
He always prepared for the worst.
The Blood Tower had been taken over, meaning the elders outside were likely in danger as well. Trapped here, their chances of escape were slim.
Even if he could not leave, he would make sure the boy did.
“I never really thought things through before,” Sheng Rufei said quietly, looking at the black curse marks flickering on his fingertips.
His life had only just begun, and yet it seemed already nearing its end.
He wanted joy, yet had not married the one he loved.
He wanted strength, so no one could ever harm that person.
He wanted to walk a long road beside him.
But from the moment he was cursed, all of it became a fragile illusion.
“I’m not good at making promises. Saying things doesn’t mean they can be fulfilled.”
He paused.
“But I remember everything you said.”
His fingertip rested on Lin Shijin’s forehead, his gaze steady and full of unspoken emotion.
The final words remained unsaid.
I will try to live.
Lin Shijin stood frozen for a moment. Sword light flashed around them, cracks spreading across the stone platform. Sheng Rufei turned and reentered the battle.
Nearby, Fuheng watched with clear approval. He tapped Lin Shijin’s head lightly.
“He’s right. This formation is far more dangerous than you think. The demon race used it to temper their nature. The sole survivor becomes their new king.”
“That snow demon once came out of such a formation, after killing a thousand of its own kind.”
“If you go with him, both of you may fall under the influence of the blood mist, losing yourselves. If one stays behind, the chances of survival are higher.”
Fuheng left part unsaid. The one protected would be the one more likely to live.
Lin Shijin gripped his sword. Just standing here felt unbearable. As he tried to step forward, an invisible force stopped him. He turned.
Behind him stood several faint black figures, all bearing crane-patterned masks. Laughter echoed at varying pitches.
“Let’s see how long the young prince lasts.”
“He was weak in his past life, never even held a sword. This life is different. He should last a bit.”
“Xiao Jin, you want to save him? That won’t do. Master won’t allow it. Stay put.”
Their voices overlapped, all calling him Xiao Jin. Instinctively, he rejected it.
A gaze lingered on him, heavy with emotion, then settling into calm… and something deeper, harder to name. He ignored them and struck the barrier.
It shattered briefly—and instantly restored itself. At the same moment, a low groan sounded in the distance. His heart clenched.
“The formation is controlled. Any damage you deal to the barrier will transfer to your shixiong,” Fuheng said.
Lin Shijin froze. The mist thinned slightly, revealing Sheng Rufei with a fresh wound across his back. His movements slowed for a moment, and another blade swung toward him.
Lin Shijin’s grip tightened painfully. He watched as Sheng Rufei barely avoided the strike, a streak of blood appearing on his cheek. The red was blinding.
“You care about him?” a low voice asked.
Lin Shijin did not answer. He stared ahead and asked, “Fuheng, is there any way to break it?”
“The barrier was set by Shouque.”
That was all. More enemies gathered around Sheng Rufei.
Lin Shijin pressed his fingers to the barrier, watching, his heart tightening and loosening in painful cycles, tension stretching him to the brink.
“What will it take to release him?”
“Release him…” the man murmured, considering.
Voices in the mist chimed in:
“Why release him? Better to torture him.”
“Strip his sword-bone and see how long he lasts.”
“Careful. Xiao Jin seems attached. Upset Master, and the young prince might fall into the magma.”
Laughter followed. Lin Shijin’s gaze turned cold, his expression sharpening, distant and untouchable. Exactly like before. Just like his past life.
Shouque ignored the others. “This formation won’t last long. If he endures one hour, I’ll remove the restraints.”
The laughter ceased. The figures vanished into the mist.
One hour.
Lin Shijin struck the barrier again. It did not move.
“Fuheng?”
No response.
He did not dare act recklessly. Any damage would only hurt Sheng Rufei.
Above, the moon was stained crimson through the mist. Blades clashed, silver light tearing across the sky.
Amid it all, the young man stood with sword in hand, cold and resolute, his robes slowly soaked in blood.
