Petals of Return

  The battlefield lay draped in silence, the aftermath of devastation hanging heavy in the air. From the epicenter of Juwon’s awakening, petals drifted downward like falling leaves, thousands of them, each glowing with Qi that shimmered faintly through the dust.

  They moved without wind, without aim, and yet—

  Wherever they landed, change followed.

  One petal brushed the corner of Yuxian’s hand, and the veins of black that had crawled up his wrist began to fade. Another came to rest on Xueling’s shoulder, where rot had threatened to consume her—immediately, the corruption hissed and withdrew.

  Purification.

  The petals held no miracle cure—but they severed the darkness.

  Their wounds remained—deep, dangerous—but they lived.

  Barely.

  Xueling blinked, her vision swimming. “Juwon… is that really…?”

  Yuxian’s lips parted to speak, but only a hoarse breath escaped. Even in his haze, he could feel the presence looming ahead of them.

  Juwon stood at the center of it all—eyes aglow, body unshaking. But there was no awareness in him.

  The petals drifted across the room, and every time one so much as grazed the monstrous form of Xuan Mo, the beast shrieked. The corruption that had wrapped its limbs now sizzled, burned away in spirals of pale smoke.

  Xuan Mo planted his feet, dropping into a deep Ma Bu stance, his claws spread wide, digging grooves into the fractured floor as raw, crimson Qi pulsed outwards in waves. The aura around him thickened, not just with strength, but defiance—a final, instinctual act of survival against the force that was swallowing him.

  A guttural growl rose from deep in his chest, echoing through the ruins like a war drum. Then, with a violent roar, a torrent of crimson aura exploded outward, slamming into the falling petals. The petals shuddered in place, then scattered, driven back by the wave like leaves before a storm.

  The beast retaliated, sent forward, a blast of Qi.

  As the blast of corrupted Qi reached Juwon.

  Juwon raised his hand.

  The petals moved.

  They whirled into formation, layering into a defensive barrier that shimmered as it turned. The Qi blast struck it dead center, but dissipated with a hiss, as if reality itself had rejected it.

  Juwon moved a single step forward. The ground cracked beneath his foot.

  Juwon shifted his weight, his feet sliding into Gong Bu—a stance forged through years of breath and balance. One leg extended forward with precision; the rear rooted firmly like an anchor into stone. His torso aligned, unmoving, as his center lowered. His right arm unfurled outward, a smooth, deliberate arc, each motion etching through the air with practiced finality.

  The petals responded, slithering from the air and earth alike, coiling from his fingertips like threads of celestial silk. They came together midair, shaping into a glowing, writhing form—a serpent of light that spiraled forward and widened, and coiled again, wrapping the beast in an orb of shining Qi.

  He raised his arm, two fingers extended, his breathing slow and deep.

  Then came the words:

  “Thousand Lotus Cuts: Death by a Thousand Blossoms.”

  The petals stopped.

  Then they spun.

  Each sharpened into a glistening needle—each one forged not from metal, but from rage, memory, and the will to protect.

  They launched.

  Thousands of strikes. From every angle. A symphony of destruction.

  The orb pulsed with blinding light as the needles carved into the creature, slicing flesh, rupturing Qi veins, overwhelming regeneration.

  The beast howled. Not in fury. But terror.

  Its form shifted—falling apart—slowly but surely turning human again, until it was Xuan Mo, slumped on his knees, gasping, broken. Blood gushed from his arms, his torso, his jaw. His skin was lacerated in a hundred places, but the petals kept moving.

  A cluster of them drove straight into his eye sockets, and with a wet pop, blood sprayed across the air like mist. He screamed

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  "Ugh-Aaaaaaghhhhh" a sound so high and raw it scraped the stone itself.

  More needles followed.

  They pierced his cheeks, his throat, his fingers delivering consistent pain.

  Then, a swirling cluster formed into a jagged blade; petals layered into a razor-edged arc...

  slashed clean through his left arm at the elbow.

  The severed limb hit the ground with a dull thud.

  Xuan Mo cried out, not just from pain, but fear.

  "Stop!" Yunfei shouted, dragging himself forward, one arm hanging uselessly at his side. Blood trailed behind him.

  He reached Juwon's side, grabbing his shoulder with what little strength he had.

  "He's finished! We can take him as a prisoner! This… isn't right. Please!"

  But what Yunfei felt beneath his fingers wasn't resolve.

  It was bloodlust.

  Juwon’s body was still, but the Qi that moved around him pulsed like a second heart—his eyes...

  Yunfei fell back out of fear.

  The slashes continued.

  Too gruesome to watch for some.

  The petals in the orb turned red—not from Qi—but from Mo’s blood, soaked into every edge, every tip.

  However, they weren’t stopping.

  And then, with the slow deliberation of finality, Juwon's arm—still raised—closed into a fist.

  The petals dove. The orb converged into Mo's body.

  Gate to Samsara

  All of them.

  Each petal pierced through wounds already torn open, not gently, but with savage finality. They tunnelled deep into muscle, bone, marrow—saturating him from the inside out.

  Xuan Mo's back arched unnaturally. He screamed. Blood erupted from his mouth, his ears, his eyes.

  A feint white light could be seen emanating from thousands of pores in Xuan Mo's body.

  Then—he ran.

  Blind, staggering, arm flailing, blood trailing from his mouth as he stumbled toward the edge of the chamber.

  “Wait—!” Yunfei shouted.

  Mo’s body detonated from within.

  A radiant burst of white light exploded.

  He came apart like wet parchment under fire.

  And when it was done—

  There was nothing but

  Only blood

  And body parts that flung apart.

  Silence pressed down like a weighted veil. The air, moments ago filled with the sound of tearing flesh and erupting Qi, now stood still—too still. Bits of ash drifted lazily through the air, catching on blood-slicked stone and shredded cloth. The only sound was the distant crackle of energy slowly fading into the void.

  Juwon stood at the center of it all.

  Barely.

  His hand lowered slowly, trembling, fingers twitching as though unsure whether to close again. His eyes—still glowing—had dulled, unfocused. Blood dripped down from the corners, carving twin lines across his cheeks. He wavered, knees buckling.

  Yunfei surged forward, catching him just as his legs gave out.

  “Easy—easy now…” Yunfei muttered, lowering him gently to the ground. He glanced down at Juwon’s still-glowing eyes, unease tightening in his chest.

  Xueling limped over, her breath ragged, one hand pressed to her side. “He’s burning up,” she said, kneeling beside them. “What was that?”

  Yuxian groaned nearby. “ He activated his core. I've heard about this from master. Core formation practitioners have unique abilities based on the core they form. But it is not supposed to be something this extravagant. Its more supposed to be like that guy who is a pile of meat no-- bwehhh"

  "You should take it easy as well...anyone would vomit seeing what we saw" Xueling responded.

  Yuxian looked at Juwon still unconscious "Agreed, has this guy always been fighting like this? I mean I understand it's the demon cult and all But..."

  Yunfei looked back at Juwon.

  His lips barely moved, body limp. “Hey... hey. Stay with me. That guy...... you got him. It’s over.”

  Juwon’s breathing remained shallow. His head lolled to the side. For a moment, they thought he’d passed out for the day.

  Then, suddenly—his eyelids twitched.

  Juwon blinked slowly, his voice slurred and thin. “What… happened…?”

  Yunfei exhaled, glancing at the trail of destruction. “You tell me.”

  “I… don’t remember,” Juwon whispered.

  A sudden shout echoed down the corridor.

  More soldiers.

  Xueling groaned as she sat up with visible effort, clutching her side. “We have to move… Now.”

  Juwon forced himself upright, shaking. “We regroup at the vehicle site.”

  “The records—” he muttered.

  Yunfei turned to him. “What?”

  “There’s something we need. In the records room.”

  "Yuxian scowled, pushing himself off the wall. "You're kidding me, right? There's no way any of us has any power left within us to stay. We have to get out now"

  "Yes, and that is why you guys will head out first and I will catch up with you guys. Got it?"

  "You were literally bleeding through your eyes man"

  Juwon paused, glancing at the satchel slung across his shoulder. “Trust me on this. If I said it, I would have a way, wouldn’t I?”

  Xueling, breathing heavily, stepped beside Yuxian. “You’re in no shape to take on more. You’re barely standing.”

  “I'll be fine,” Juwon said, steadying himself with a hand against the wall. “Get to the vehicle in the forest. I’ll follow.”

  There was a long silence, broken only by the sound of approaching boots in the corridor.

  Yunfei exhaled. “Don’t die in there.”

  Juwon smirked faintly. “I won't ever die before you do idiot."

  Juwon, though limping, forced his way toward the sealed chamber—a reinforced door he’d seen earlier. With a weak burst of Qi, he shattered the lock and kicked it open.

  Inside, rows of scrolls, disks, half-burned maps. He shoved them into a satchel, cradling it tightly to his chest as he stumbled out into the corridor.

  “Hope this is worth it" Juwon gritting his teeth as he struggles out into the corridor.

  But then—

  The roar of engines.

  A Humvee skidded into the far end of the hallway, tires screeching against cracked stone.

  Mounted atop it—a machine gun.

  Muzzle flash lit the darkness.

  Bullets tore through the hall, ricocheting off walls, ripping through the windows. Glass shattered into clouds. Juwon dived behind a pillar, barely avoiding the spray.

  Another squad appeared at the opposite end.

  Both exits—cut off.

  The hallway was narrow, the walls lined with glass. He was boxed in.

  “Shit—shit!” he hissed, tightening his grip on the satchel.

  "How did they get a fucking vehicle up here? I really hope this works out."

  He crouched, drew one ragged breath.

  Then everything stilled.

  Void Drifting Step — Intermediate Mastery

  Juwon vanished.

  The space where he stood bent inward, reality folding like parchment.

  And then—

  He reappeared—mid-air—above a forest canopy, the last light of day slicing between the trees.

  "Damnit"

  He fell hard.

  Crashing through branches, slamming into the dirt.

  His limbs refused to move. The satchel barely clung to his chest. His breath came in ragged gasps.

  Then—

  A shadow.

  Large.

  Silent.

  It fell across him, blotting out the remaining light.

  Juwon turned his head slightly, blood on his lips.

  “…I’m dead… this time… for sure.”