A flat, barren wasteland stretched out before the massive gates of the Gao Sect. Ying yue led the stallion by one hand and Zhen yan by the other in front of the mighty iron doors. A guard took the invitation scroll from him, and he gave the guard and the demon a brief, scrutinizing look before passing the scroll on and opening the gates shortly thereafter.
The inside of the estate was a labyrinth of massive stone walls, higher than any tree. The gray sky above them barely managed to illuminate the paths they were led along. Ying yue had an uneasy, oppressive feeling. Zhen yan again followed three steps behind him, the creamy white jade pendant dangling from his hip. The summer heat seemed even more stifling between all the gray.
They were led past various training grounds where the Gao soldiers were training ostentatiously. Ying yue glanced back, Zhen yan raised only one brow. They were led out of the labyrinthine passageways and found themselves in a large square. A huge battlefield was painted on the ground, causing Ying yue to want to draw his sword.
The blood looked too real. But he controlled himself and had the seating order of the banquet explained to him and his position shown before he was led back to his room. In the next three days, more guests arrived. Envoys from the most diverse sects came. As expected, most of the clan leaders came in person. Ying yue couldn't help but notice the glances they threw at him. The fact that he had been sent made the others burp angrily.
Hadn't Bai An rong taken the matter seriously enough to appear in person? It seemed that the news of the Bai Clan's disintegration had not yet spread. Gao Teng fei would probably not allow any information about his plans to get out while he was surrounded by all the sects. The best approach was to take him down in the headlock now, while he was still unable to act, as long as he wanted to save face. So Ying yue made excuses.
That his father had important business to attend to. On the morning of the banquet, Wang Bing wen discreetly delivered the message that Lingxi, together with Xueling and Wei meng, had arrived in the Wang clan territory. This news allowed Ying yue to breathe a sigh of relief. But something else is worrying him. For days, Zhen yan has hardly moved.
He sits most of the time quietly at the table in her room, his eyes closed, looking as if he is meditating. When Ying yue asks him questions, however, he always answers with a smile. When Ying yue returned after meeting Wang Bing wen, he found Zhen yan in the same position. He called his name softly, but the demon did not hear him. Even when Ying yue gently touched and finally shook him lightly, he did not open his eyes.
»Zhen yan!« Ying yue called softly and with concern. The demon blinked a few times, but didn't seem to really perceive Ying yue. The young swordsman sat down on the ground behind him and brushed Zhen yan's robes off his shoulders.
Under his white skin, he saw the muscles and the bluish blood vessels. He examined him further, ran his fingers over Zhen yan's upper body and scrutinized him. Zhen yan sighed heavily and took Ying yue's hand, which had fleetingly and a bit too tenderly stroked his nipples.
»Now?« he asked, slightly out of breath. Ying yue released his fingers from his grip.
»What's wrong with you?« he asked, not able to completely hide his inner tension and fear. Zhen yan waved it off.
»It's nothing,« he replied.
»Don't lie to me. Zhen yan, you can do anything to me, anything. But don't lie to me,« Ying yue said urgently and took his head in his hands.
»Anything?« the demon echoed and a dangerous lust flickered in his eyes. Ying yue looked deep into his eyes. Something was wrong with him. He looked exhausted, dejected and vulnerable.
»Zhen yan?«
The demon let himself sink against Ying yue's shoulders. The young man gently stroked his back, then closed his eyes and let his spiritual energy flow into him. Zhen yan had always protected him with his magic, but he could do that too. He concentrated. Zhen yan's body was structured just like that of a human.
Among all the dark magic in him, which willingly gave way to him, he could feel his meridians. Ying yue opened his eyes. Yi Rui, that bastard. With each of his spear stabs, he had cut Zhen yan's meridians. The demon, however, was of a completely different caliber than the Yaos he had tortured with it. Zhen yan had so much magic and power that he didn't even have to tap into his circulation. Now, however, his internal injuries weakened him. T
he power inside him couldn't circulate and he couldn't just release it either. Ying yue felt for the severed ends, which, unlike those of a mortal or a cultist, were not withering away but swirling wildly around in his body, so he had to expend a lot of energy to calm them and patch them up provisionally.
Zhen yan groaned. When Ying yue had stabilized the circulation in him again, he straightened Zhen yan's robe.
»Why didn't you say something?« he asked reproachfully.
»I thought the time was extremely inconvenient,« Zhen yan groaned.
»Besides, this only affects me for a short time. A kind of block because I didn't resist it,« he added and tightened his belt. Ying yue looked, embarrassed, at the ground. He had asked Zhen yan to hold back, and he had known that it would not be pleasant for him. Zhen yan gently stroked his cheek and lifted Ying yue's head.
»When this is over, will you keep your promise?« he asked quietly. Ying yue nodded. When it was all over, they would retire to Wushan together.
»Then I can endure anything,« Zhen yan whispered.
A sinister drumbeat announced the start of the banquet. Ying yue and Zhen yan exchanged a look before rising and making their way to the large courtyard. Evening was falling, the gray sky arched over them like the inside of a porcelain bowl.
The warm wind brushed dry over their skin. It smelled of spicy, hearty food, alcohol and fresh bread. The square was already full, many were chatting. Ying yue and Zhen yan took their seats in front of the dais, which was clearly higher than the rest of the room. Gao Teng fei sat cross-legged in front of his table, giving the assembled company a look of disdain.
He had long black hair interwoven with gray strands. His black and red robes were more elaborate and elaborate than those of the other clan members. He wore a magnificent hair crown and let his gaze sweep over those present. When Ying yue greeted him, his gaze slid briefly to Zhen yan and a shadow crossed his face, but then he kindly offered them to sit down and enjoy the meal. Ying yue's chest still felt tight.
He recognized many of the faces from previous hunts; the heads could be identified by their elaborate robes and luxuriously crafted jewelry. His gaze fell on Wang Bing wen and Yian, who were sitting at a table quite far forward, and they gave him a brief nod as he walked by. As soon as Ying yue had sat down, beautiful women offered him wine and meat, which he politely declined. Nevertheless, they filled his glass and plate before leaving.
Periodically, he was urged to eat and drink, and although he was hungry, he couldn't get a bite down. The atmosphere was too tense. He looked around the party and at those present, the bizarre painting at their feet and the ominous music. He thought hard and waited tensely for the sign from Bing wen. Suddenly the music stopped, Gao Teng fei rose, raised his wine cup and greeted each individual leader by name.
»I am delighted to be your host today and hope that the discussion to come will bear much fruit,« he said in a loud, imposing voice. Then he raised his glass and the others followed his example. Gao Teng Fei put his bowl down again and plucked a flute from his belt, as black as the night, with golden filigree patterns running through it. »Allow me to entertain you today,« he remarked. Zhen yan jumped up, because one moment Ying yue was still concentrating on Teng fei, and the next, a dense cloud of black-green smoke surrounded him.
Before he could say anything, he heard sounds. They were dull, ominous and somehow out of tune. A melody that only the depths of hell would play. His head ached, his eyes burned and the pressure in his head became so great that he cried out.
The smoke thickened, enveloped him, penetrated him and took away his ability to hear. A high-pitched shrill sound echoed in his head, he saw double, and it took him a few seconds to realize what had just happened. Gao Teng fei had raised the flute to his mouth and was playing the Song of the Seven Hells, unimpressed. Yingyue was as if the floor painting had come to life.
People were clutching at their throats, gasping for air, spitting blood, blood welling from their eyes, flowing from their ears, nose and mouth. They were vomiting and tearing the skin from their flesh, screaming in agony. A hand grabbed him.
Wang Bing wen had reached out for him. Blood flowed from all his orifices, he wanted to say something, but gushing blood kept spurting out of his lips. Ying yue pulled him out of the courtyard. Zhen yan kept the screaming mob at bay. The food had been poisoned, or the wine? Or both? And the music, piercing the body like a slaughtering knife, kept even the best cultivators from healing themselves internally or from gathering their strength and supporting each other.
More and more men collapsed. The ground was a sea of blood.
»Bai G-gongzi. Go... quickly,« he managed to say. Ying yue grasped him doubtfully by the shoulders. All sounds reached him only muffled and yet the pain in his head almost robbed him of his mind. A wall of flames engulfed the entire courtyard, Ying yue bent protectively over Bing wen, but the flames did not reach her. The melody stopped abruptly and a furious scream filled the night.
Yian had used the chaos to snatch the flute from Teng fei. But the black, thin body ate through his skin within seconds and he had to let it fall with a painful howl. Teng fei kicked the fox, who had sunk to the ground, in the chest and knocked him over.
Then he raised the flute and rammed it through the fox's right eye, making a hideous grimace. Bing wen pushed through under Ying yue.
»Yian!« He ran as fast as his legs would carry him to the fox spirit, who was cowering on the ground. He drew his sword and despite the blood loss, managed to fend off Gao Teng fei and his hell flute.
»Is that...« Ying yue swallowed the lump in his throat. Xiaodan purred and vibrated at his hip.
»The flute is made of black jade,« Zhen yan confirmed. »It's the tool.« A scream, distorted and throaty, reached them.
The sky above them filled with the sounds of leathery wings flapping, claws screeching and clashing. Gao Teng fei had gained the upper hand. He flung Wang Bing wen from him, who crawled away from him, panting. His body was shattered. Teng fei began to play a new, much crueler melody.
»Now,« Wang Bing wen shouted hoarsely, »go at last!« Zhen yan seized Ying yue and before the new sounds reached him, a dense cloud of smoke enveloped him.
The black-green cloud shot up into the sky, scattered the flying yao, and disappeared in the next moment. Wang Bing wen managed to grab Yian's hand.