Beyond Virtue

The Blood Fang Sect loomed like a shadow over the mountains, its reputation casting fear into the hearts of many. To the world, they were a demonic cultivation sect, reviled for their unorthodox methods and disdain for traditional morality. Yet, those who truly understood their ways knew there was more to the sect than its grim reputation.

While their techniques were harsh and their philosophy unyielding, the Blood Fang Sect operated on a clear set of principles. Acts such as rape, senseless slaughter, or random acts of violence were strictly forbidden. To take life without purpose or to abuse power without restraint was seen as weakness, a failure to uphold the discipline required for true strength.

What set the sect apart were the questionable methods embraced by many of its disciples, techniques that other cultivators balked at. Some cultivated using blood essence, draining the vitality of spirit beasts or fallen enemies to strengthen their own qi. Others delved into the integration of beast traits, fusing their bodies with remnants of spirit beasts to enhance physical capabilities. There were those who practiced pain-refinement techniques, enduring poisons or extremes of heat and cold to temper their bodies into unyielding vessels.

Such practices, though effective, earned them the ire of so-called "righteous" sects. But unlike their counterparts, the Blood Fang Sect refused to bind itself to the rigid ideals of good and evil. To them, morality was a matter of perspective, a narrative crafted by the strong to justify their reign.

Instead, the sect prided itself on freedom. Disciples were encouraged to pursue strength in whatever way suited them, provided their methods did not violate the sect's core principles. This freedom, however, came with its own burden. The Blood Fang Sect demanded results, and those who failed to grow stronger were left to fend for themselves. It was a harsh, unforgiving system, but one that bred true resilience.

For the Blood Fang Sect, strength was not just a means to an end—it was the end itself. They stood as a bastion for those who rejected hypocrisy, embracing power without shame or apology. To outsiders, they were demonic. To themselves, they were the only ones honest enough to see the world for what it truly was.

...

Xu Yan's steps echoed faintly against the stone path as he approached the mission hall. The structure was carved into the mountain itself, its angular entrance flanked by two towering statues of snarling beasts. Disciples moved in and out, their conversations filling the air with whispers and bursts of laughter.

Nearby, a small group of disciples huddled together, their voices low but urgent.

"Did you hear about Liu Qing of the Azure Sky Sect?" one said, his tone a mix of awe and envy.

"Of course," another replied. "Everyone's still talking about it. He fought Senior Brother Zhan Yi last month. Can you believe it? Both of them left injured."

"Senior Brother Zhan Yi is still recuperating," the first disciple added, shaking his head. "Senior Brother Zhan Yi is in the middle stage of the Qi Awakening Realm. To think someone could match him like that. Liu Qing must really be something."

The group fell silent for a moment, their expressions tense. It was clear the rivalry between the two sects weighed heavily on them.

Xu Yan walked to the end of the dimly lit hallway, his steps steady against the cold stone floor. At the far end, an old man with a gray beard sat reclined behind a desk, a stack of reports in his hand. His posture was casual, but his sharp eyes betrayed an awareness that missed nothing.

Without looking up, the elder muttered, "Another one?" He finally glanced at Xu Yan, his gaze falling on the Ironspike Boar Tusk placed on the desk. "You've been taking a lot of missions lately, Xu Yan."

Xu Yan cupped his fists respectfully, his expression calm. "Since my master has been away, I've been working hard to not disappoint him."

The elder raised a brow, studying him for a moment before losing interest. He waved dismissively. "Your token."

Xu Yan reached into his robes and handed over the small black medallion. The elder scanned it with a faint pulse of qi before returning it. "You're good."

Taking the token, Xu Yan nodded slightly. "Thank you, Elder."

He turned and walked away, his black robes brushing against the stone floor, the faint sound of the elder flipping another page following him into the shadows.

As Xu Yan approached the mission board, his sharp eyes scanned the parchment-covered surface for anything worthwhile. Around him, disciples moved in and out of the hall, their hushed murmurs filling the air.

Near the board, a small group of disciples stood clustered together, their whispers growing louder as they noticed him.

"Do you see him?" one of them muttered, his tone low and conspiratorial. "That's Xu Yan. He recently joined the sect half a year ago. Rumor has it that he's the only disciple of Elder Mo Ying."

"The one known for his cruelty?" another replied, his voice tinged with nervous curiosity. "I heard that on a mission years ago, someone saw him kill a cultivator from the Azure Sky Sect—burned him alive."

The third disciple scoffed, his disdain evident. "Who cares? Those so-called 'righteous' cultivators deserve worse. They're hypocrites, preaching virtue while slaughtering anyone who stands in their way. Every 'honorable' action they take is just a mask for greed and power."

"Exactly," another chimed in. "They talk about protecting the weak, but the only thing they protect is their reputation. If someone doesn't bow to their rules, they crush them without hesitation."

 Xu Yan ignored the chatter around him, and focused back on the mission board. His sharp eyes scanned the parchment pinned to the blackened wood. Each mission was neatly categorized, ranging from routine herb collection to high-risk expeditions requiring life-and-death readiness.

One particular notice caught his attention. The parchment was bordered with a faint red outline, marking it as a mission of considerable danger.

One particular notice caught his attention. The parchment was bordered with a faint red outline, marking it as a mission of considerable danger. The details were clear: a group of disciples was required to venture into the outer area of the Crimson Wraith Forest in three days. 

The objective was to investigate unusual spirit beast activity and retrieve rare materials reported to have surfaced near the forest's edge. A minimum cultivation level of Late Mortal Foundation was required, though the notice strongly suggested Qi Awakening for better chances of survival. Group formation was mandatory, given the dangers of the region.

Xu Yan's gaze lingered on the words "Crimson Wraith Forest." The forest was a vast and foreboding expanse known for its eerie crimson mist, which clung to the trees like an unnatural shroud. It was said to have been tainted by the remnants of an ancient battlefield, where cultivators of immense power had once clashed. The residual energy had seeped into the land, warping the flora and fauna, giving rise to spirit beasts of terrifying strength and unpredictable behavior.

The outer area of the forest, though less dangerous than the deeper zones, was no place for the unprepared. Weaker spirit beasts prowled the misty underbrush, their movements masked by the unnatural quiet of the forest. Even seasoned cultivators approached such areas with caution, knowing that a single misstep could cost them their lives.

Xu Yan's lips pressed into a thin line as he read the requirements again. Late Mortal Foundation. Preferably Qi Awakening. Just recently, he had reached the Marrow Cleansing stage, the pinnacle of Mortal Foundation. His strength had taken a significant leap forward, his body now capable of enduring far more than before. 

"This will do," he thought to himself, his expression calm but resolved. His strength now should be enough to take on this mission, even if others might doubt it. 

Three days. It wasn't much time to prepare, but it would be enough. Turning on his heel, Xu Yan left the mission hall, the faint whispers of disciples discussing their own plans trailing behind him.