The shadows of night hung heavy over the cavern, casting a faint, eerie glow from the blood-red moon hanging low in the sky. The air felt thicker than ever, stifled by the tension that filled the cave. Shen Aozu’s gaze remained steady, though his body ached with weakness, and his mind felt burdened by the weight of the moment.

  Jin Han, the healer who had tended to him, stood beside him, scanning the horizon with tight-lipped concern. The other healers gathered around, none of them warriors, but all of them willing to fight for the lives of the people they cared for. They were his saviors, yet now they stood on the precipice of annihilation.

  "The Crimson Moon Clan is here," Shen Aozu said in a low voice, his words barely audible over the rustling leaves. "And they’ve come to finish what they started."

  Jin Han’s face was drawn, his eyes darting to the entrance of the cavern, where he could see the faint glow of torches advancing in the distance. His voice came in a low murmur, weighed with dread. "We can’t fight them. These people… they’re demons. Ruthless."

  Shen Aozu stepped forward, his feet dragging slightly, still unaccustomed to the weakness in his body. The Ashen Lotus inside him thrummed with an unsettling, dark power, and he could feel it beginning to awaken, to whisper in his soul.

  "We have no choice now," he said grimly, his eyes hardening. "They will burn this place to the ground if we don’t act."

  Jin Han clenched his fists, his face a mask of both fear and determination. "Then we fight."

  Outside the Cavern

  The Crimson Moon Clan arrived like a flood—dark figures clad in crimson and black armor, their eyes glowing with malice. The smell of blood and death lingered on the wind as they marched toward the cavern, the ground shaking beneath their feet with every step they took. At their head, a tall figure stepped forward, his face a mask of cold calculation.

  "Finish them," the leader of the Crimson Moon Clan called out, his voice rich with authority. "No mercy. Leave none alive."

  The raiders fanned out, their weapons gleaming in the moonlight, their footsteps deathly silent. As the healers inside the cavern braced themselves, a flood of terror gripped their hearts. The healers were not prepared for battle, and the Crimson Moon Clan did not offer them mercy.

  The Massacre

  Shen Aozu’s fists clenched as he stepped forward, but Jin Han held up a hand. "Not yet," he whispered urgently. "We need to buy time. Let them take the first strike."

  But it was too late.

  The first wave of Crimson Moon raiders rushed forward, their movements swift and deadly. They tore through the group of healers without hesitation, their swords flashing through the air in arcs of crimson light. One healer, a young woman named Liu, was cut down instantly, her scream of terror silenced by the swift stroke of a blade.

  "No!" Zhao Fen, the silent warrior who had fought beside Shen Aozu, lunged forward, but he was too slow. The Crimson Moon raiders were faster, more vicious, and their swords cut through him with ease, severing his leg as he fell to the ground, blood staining the earth beneath him.

  Shen Aozu’s stomach churned at the sight. He wanted to act, wanted to stop them, but his body refused to cooperate. His Qi was still unstable, his strength insufficient. Still, he couldn’t stand there and do nothing.

  "Jin Han!" he shouted, his voice hoarse. "We need to fight back. We can’t let them wipe us out."

  Jin Han nodded grimly, his face pale. "We don’t have the strength to face them head-on," he murmured, eyes flicking to the cavern’s exit. "But we can still make a stand. We’ll retreat, lure them into the narrow passageways. They’ll have to fight on our terms."

  But the Crimson Moon Clan showed no mercy.

  A raider wielding a cruel-looking halberd struck down two healers in a single sweep, their bodies crumpling like rag dolls. Others chased down fleeing healers, slashing with sadistic glee, leaving a trail of blood in their wake. The air was thick with the scent of death as Shen Aozu watched, fury building deep inside him. He felt helpless—his body was not his own, and his power had been reduced to little more than a flicker.

  But then, something changed.

  In the distance, the Crimson Moon Princess appeared, her presence like a dark omen. Her crimson cloak billowed behind her as she walked, her face a mask of cold beauty, her eyes burning with malevolent glee. She didn’t need to lift a finger to see the carnage unfold.

  She stood there, watching with detached amusement as her people slaughtered the healers, their cries filling the air. Shen Aozu’s gaze locked onto hers, and for a moment, time seemed to still.

  "You should have stayed dead, Shen Aozu," she called out, her voice smooth like velvet but laced with venom. "You can’t stop what’s coming. Not now. Not ever."

  A cold fury stirred within Shen Aozu. Her face. Her eyes. He had seen her before—when he had fallen into the Abyss. She was there, watching, perhaps even orchestrating the betrayal from afar.

  The memories surged within him. Li Wei's betrayal. Mei Lian’s death. The cold darkness of the Abyss. All of it, woven together in a web of manipulation and cruelty.

  "Why?" Shen Aozu finally asked, his voice raw with anguish. "Why do this? What do you want from me?"

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  The Crimson Moon Princess’ lips curved into a cruel smile. "I want nothing from you. But the world… the world has changed, Aozu. It is time for you to fade into the shadows, where you belong."

  With a swift, almost languid gesture, she raised her hand. The raiders paused, awaiting her command. Then, with a single word, she spoke:

  "Finish them."

  Survival and Escape

  The chaos escalated as the raiders closed in on the remaining healers, but in that moment of madness, something within Shen Aozu snapped. A surge of power, dark and twisted, broke free from his chest. His body shuddered, trembling as the Ashen Lotus awakened with a force he had never experienced before. It was not the power he had once known, but it was power nonetheless.

  He forced his limbs to move, staggering forward, his eyes locked on the Crimson Moon Princess.

  "You won’t get away with this," he growled, his voice thick with malice.

  Before he could act, Yao Li, the traitor who had betrayed them all, stepped forward, her face pale with guilt. Her eyes met Shen Aozu’s, filled with regret. But she could not undo what had been done. She had sealed their fates.

  "You should leave," she whispered urgently. "There’s no time. They will kill everyone. You can’t save us."

  Shen Aozu’s fists clenched, but his resolve hardened. "You think I would leave them all to die?"

  "You have no choice," Yao Li pleaded. "There’s a way out—through the east caverns. But you must go now. There is no other chance."

  The Crimson Moon Princess noticed the exchange and began to stride toward them, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

  "Don’t think you can escape," she said coldly, her voice dripping with malice. "You will die just like the others."

  Shen Aozu didn’t answer her. He didn’t need to. His only goal now was survival—for himself, for the healers who still had a chance, and for the reckoning that would come one day.

  With one last, lingering glance at Yao Li—whose face was filled with regret—Shen Aozu turned, gripping Jin Han and a handful of other healers. Together, they rushed toward the east caverns, their escape the only hope they had left.

  As they fled, the last of the healers screamed behind them. The Crimson Moon Clan’s massacre was relentless, merciless. Shen Aozu could hear the sound of weapons cutting through flesh, the cries of the innocent, and the sickening laughter of the raiders.

  But he could not look back.

  The only thing he could focus on now was survival. The fire within him, tainted as it was, would burn brighter still.

  And when the time was right, he would return.

  Smoke and blood mingled in the air, a suffocating shroud of death and destruction. The healer’s refuge, once a haven of warmth and life, lay in ruins. Bodies littered the cavern floor, their still forms bathed in the crimson glow of the dying fires. The scent of burnt herbs mixed with the coppery tang of blood, creating a sickening perfume of slaughter.

  Shen Aozu stumbled forward, his weakened body trembling as he tried to steady himself. His vision blurred, his breaths ragged. The massacre had been swift, merciless. The Crimson Moon Clan had found them. And now, they were dead. Most of them.

  A cruel, mocking voice cut through the thick silence.

  “Still breathing, are we?”

  From the smoldering wreckage, Princess Yanmei stepped forward, her bloodstained blade dragging along the stone floor. Her once-regal presence was now twisted by cruelty, her golden eyes gleaming with dark amusement. Gone was the noble grace of the past; in its place stood a warlord who had long since abandoned mercy.

  “You should’ve stayed buried in the abyss, Shen Aozu,” she said, tilting her head as if studying a dying insect. “Your time has passed.”

  Shen Aozu clenched his fists, rage bubbling beneath his skin. He had known her once—before she had become this monster draped in the guise of royalty. Before she had thrown away her humanity for power.

  His voice came hoarse, but steady. “You were never like this.”

  Yanmei laughed, a sound devoid of warmth. “Oh, I was always like this. You were just too blind to see it.” She raised her sword, its edge still slick with the blood of the innocent. “Now, let’s finish what should’ve ended long ago.”

  Aozu shifted into a defensive stance, though his limbs were still sluggish, his Qi barely a whisper within him. He knew he wouldn’t last in a direct fight. Not yet.

  A distant groan pulled his attention away.

  Jin Han, the healer who had saved him, lay among the bodies—alive, but barely. Aozu’s pulse quickened. Others had survived too, hidden beneath the corpses of their brethren. There was still a chance.

  I need to get them out of here.

  Yanmei noticed his glance and smirked. “Oh, how noble. But you’re in no condition to be saving anyone.”

  The Crimson Moon warriors began to close in, their blades gleaming, their faces carved from cruelty. He had no weapon. No strength. Only a fragile flicker of the Ashen Lotus within him.

  And then, the whisper returned.

  Let it consume you…

  A chill ran down Aozu’s spine. He had resisted it before, afraid of what it meant. But now?

  He had no choice.

  Taking a slow breath, he let go.

  The Ashen Lotus awakened.

  A pulse of blackened Qi erupted from within, twisting the air into something unnatural. Shadows coiled around his fingers, slithering like living tendrils, and for a moment, the very ground seemed to darken beneath him.

  Yanmei’s smirk faded.

  “Interesting,” she murmured.

  A Crimson Moon warrior lunged. Shen Aozu moved—not with strength, but with an impossible fluidity, as if guided by something beyond himself. The tendrils lashed out, snapping bone, crushing muscle. The warrior crumpled, screaming.

  The others hesitated. Aozu seized the moment.

  “Run!” he barked at the survivors.

  Jin Han, barely conscious, was dragged to his feet by one of the wounded healers. A few others staggered toward the cavern’s rear tunnels, their faces pale with terror.

  Yanmei sighed. “I should have known you’d be stubborn.” She flicked her wrist, and a dark glyph ignited on her palm. The air shuddered. “But you don’t get to escape so easily.”

  A black sigil expanded beneath their feet. A binding spell. Shen Aozu grit his teeth—his power was still raw, still unstable. He needed time. He needed an opening.

  The wounded survivors were almost clear.

  One chance.

  With a deep breath, he forced every last ounce of Qi he had into a final burst. The Ashen Lotus surged, sending out a shockwave that shattered the sigil’s hold for just an instant. It was enough.

  The survivors vanished into the tunnels.

  Yanmei’s eyes narrowed. “Clever.”

  She lunged.

  Shen Aozu barely managed to deflect, his body screaming in protest. Her blows were ferocious, her speed inhuman. He dodged, barely, but each movement pushed him further toward the edge of collapse.

  His vision blurred. He could hear the Abyss whispering again, calling him deeper, offering him more.

  Not yet, he snarled inwardly. Not like this.

  With one final effort, he turned his momentum against her, twisting at the last second and sending them both crashing against the ruined altar at the center of the cavern. A burst of dust and debris clouded the air.

  When it cleared, Shen Aozu was gone.

  Yanmei wiped the blood from her lip, watching the tunnels where he had vanished. She let out a slow exhale, her amusement returning.

  “Run all you want, old master,” she murmured, turning away. “You won’t outrun fate.”

  The Crimson Moon warriors sheathed their blades, their work done.

  Behind them, the healer’s sanctuary lay in ruins.