The forest parted into a clearing soaked in twilight, the moon hovering low and red like a bloodshot eye. Lucien stepped through the mist, his shirt torn and barely hanging from his frame, skin glowing faintly with excess Qi. Each breath he exhaled shimmered with heat.
Mei Lin's brand still pulsed on his chest—proof of her defeat, and his ascent.
But power like his didn't go unnoticed.
The ground beneath his feet vibrated. Then it opened.
A chasm yawned wide, swallowing sound and light. Before Lucien could react, dozens of vines—smooth, black, and warm to the touch—lashed out and wrapped around his limbs. He didn't resist. Not yet.
He was being pulled downward, into a hollow beneath the clearing, one filled with a humid sweetness that smelled like ripe fruit and sweat.
When his feet touched stone again, he stood in the center of a natural grotto. The walls glowed with bioluminescent moss. Pools of silver water steamed gently. And surrounding him, standing like guardians of a primal temple, were women.
Not human.
Their ears were pointed. Their eyes shimmered like gemstones. Skin tones varied—silver, bronze, lavender—but all of them bore the mark of Yuekin half-bloods, hybrids of demon and spirit beast.
And at their center, sitting atop a throne of woven roots, was Arinya.
Her beauty was not subtle. It was violent.
Thighs parted lazily. Breasts bare and heavy. Hair cascading in coils of midnight. Her gaze sliced through Lucien like blades made of honey.
She smiled.
"You smell of corrupted Yin and stolen fire. A rare delicacy."
Lucien met her gaze with equal force. "Then come take a bite."
The other women hissed, baring sharp teeth. But Arinya laughed—a rich, carnal sound that made the roots above tremble.
"Confidence. That will taste well too."
She rose and walked barefoot toward him, each step causing the ground to pulse with life. When she reached him, she traced a clawed finger down his chest.
"Let me guess… you want to absorb our forbidden bloodline? To anchor your chaotic flame?"
Lucien didn't lie. "Yes."
"And in exchange?" she asked, now standing close enough for her breath to kiss his lips.
He leaned in, voice low.
"I'll show you how real gods burn."
The grotto transformed.
Moss shimmered brighter. The pools steamed more violently. The other Yuekin women formed a circle, chanting in tongues long dead. A ritual began—not one of marriage or pact, but of consumption.
Arinya pushed Lucien down onto a bed of soft vines. She straddled him, her body radiating unnatural heat and hunger. Their Qi clashed instantly. His fire met her beast-blood, crackling through the air like thunder.
Her lips found his neck.
And bit.
Not to wound. To mark.
Lucien groaned, but it wasn't pain—it was pressure. The kind that drove men mad or made them kings.
He grabbed her waist, flipped her beneath him, and drove into her with a force that made the grotto quake. Her back arched, claws raking down his arms, eyes glowing white.
Their bodies became instruments of war and lust.
She screamed with each thrust—not in weakness, but in defiance. Her core clenched around him like a predator refusing to let go. But Lucien was no prey.
He leaned down, kissed her throat, and surged harder.
Qi exploded from them in waves. Fire and storm. Flesh and madness.
The Yuekin circle began to moan as well—feeding on the overflow, touching themselves, caught in the web of primal energy unraveling in the ritual.
Lucien's Ninefold Furnace reached a new resonance, the Yin he once feared now harmonizing with his own. Arinya's beast blood flowed into him like nectar laced with poison and power.
She writhed.
He held her down.
Her second climax came like a scream across the soul, shattering one of the crystal pillars nearby.
Lucien didn't stop.
He bit her lip. She bled gold.
And then, at the height of their collision, Lucien summoned his Qi inward—focusing on absorption, not release.
Arinya gasped as her body began to glow from within.
"You… you're pulling me into you—!"
Her words turned to moans. Her limbs trembled. Her body arched one last time.
Lucien kissed her deeply.
And drank.
Her spirit didn't die. It compressed. Twisted. Entered his meridians. Locked itself to his core.
When Lucien stood, Arinya was no longer in the room.
But her voice echoed in his mind.
"I'll devour the world with you… master."
He looked around.
The other Yuekin knelt.
Not out of love.
Out of fear.
Out of hunger.
Lucien walked toward the exit of the grotto, naked, smoking with heat, stronger than ever.
Outside, thunder rolled.
The Tribunal had arrived.
He smiled.
Time to burn again.