The village of Lianshu was dying.
Once a peaceful hamlet nestled among plum orchards and quiet streams, it now lay in ruins—rooftops caved in, doors broken from hinges, and the scent of smoke still clinging to the air. Burnt husks of carts lined the narrow road, and the silence was so deep it pressed against Mei Lian's ears.
She and Shen Liuxian approached under cover of dusk, the sky bleeding into twilight. Behind them, the girl who had sought their help clutched her satchel, eyes wide and tearful.
"They took everyone," she whispered. "Even the old. They said… they were taking them to feed the mines of Darkroot Pass."
Shen frowned. "Slavers. Working with rogue cultivators, most likely. We need to act fast."
Mei Lian knelt beside a scorched talisman at the village gate. Her fingers hovered over the faint sigils etched in blackened ink. "This is Blood-Weft script… forbidden magic. It saps life essence slowly. Whoever's behind this isn't just after labor—they're harvesting souls."
The air grew colder.
She stood. "No mercy, then."
They tracked the slavers through the forest beyond Lianshu, following a trail of shattered branches and faint cart ruts. By moonrise, they reached a clearing where the captives were chained in a circle, guarded by masked cultivators clad in black armor etched with bone patterns.
At their center stood a man wrapped in violet robes—tall, elegant, and humming with corrupted energy. His face was pale, his eyes glowing with an unnatural sheen. A cursed cultivator.
"Bring them forward," he commanded his guards. "The extraction begins at dawn."
Shen whispered, "That's Zhou Hailin—the Exile of Ebonshade. Wanted by five sects. He vanished years ago."
"He didn't vanish," Mei Lian said. "He was waiting."
Shen's eyes flicked to her. "We don't have time to plan."
"Then we don't plan. We strike."
She stepped into the clearing.
The cursed cultivator turned, a faint sneer on his lips. "Another foolish rebel? You reek of fire."
Mei Lian raised her hand, and a spiral of crimson flame burst into existence, swirling around her like a serpent. Her voice rang out, clear and commanding.
"I am Mei Lian, Crimson Flame of the Sky Veil. You've chained innocents. You will answer."
Zhou Hailin laughed, raising his hand to unleash a curse—
But Shen Liuxian was already there, blade flashing like a silver storm, slicing through the first guard before the man even blinked. Chaos erupted.
Mei Lian's flames surged, carving a path through the slavers. Where she moved, the fire followed—precise, sharp, and righteous. The chained villagers shielded their eyes, but no flame touched them.
Zhou unleashed dark energy from his palms, the ground cracking beneath him—but Mei Lian met him with fire-forged fists, clashing power against power.
"You're not strong enough!" Zhou snarled, his curse blades whirling.
"I don't need to be strong alone," Mei Lian replied, dodging, then slamming her palm into the earth.
A pillar of crimson light erupted beneath Zhou, swallowing his curses, searing through his defenses. He screamed—then silence.
When the smoke cleared, only ash remained.
The chains binding the villagers disintegrated with a flash of white.
Mei Lian dropped to one knee, breath heavy. Shen reached her side instantly.
"You burned too much spirit energy," he said.
She looked up, sweat beading her brow. "They're safe. That's what matters."
Around them, the villagers wept, reunited. The little girl ran to her brother, sobbing.
One of the freed elders bowed deeply before Mei Lian and Shen. "We have no gold… but we have loyalty. Let us serve the Crimson Sect."
Shen glanced at Mei Lian. She nodded slowly.
"Then rise," she said, voice steady. "Because the Crimson Sect belongs to those with hearts strong enough to fight."
That night, under the light of a full moon, the first true followers of the Crimson Sect knelt around a fire of clean flame.
And far away, a seer of the Heavenly Sky Pavilion whispered in terror:
"The flame is gathering."