Reborn as a Demonic Tree

Chapter 396: Butchered

Two pink eyes of blazing bloodlust peered through the darkness and bore down on Vincent Nightrose as the golden threads of fate spiraled upwards into infinity. He tried to grasp at them, but like silk threads, they slid through his fingers. No matter which threads he attempted to follow, they all ended in loose ends.

Vincent cursed as he dismissed the divination and wiped a trail of blood from the corner of his mouth. Despite his efforts to fix up this body that he had stolen from Valandor, it didnʼt live up to his standards. While he could use the full extent of his Qi without breaking the body as he had improved its spirit roots, bloodlines were another issue. While they technically carried over between bodies, due to the sheer number of them it was taking longer than he expected for this new body to adapt to a few of them.

Luckily, he could still tap into the threads of fate bloodline he stole from the Starweaver family. As an inferior version, it would give him vague visions rather than any concrete information. But the fact that almost all threads ended in this all-consuming darkness illuminated solely by two eyes manifested from sheer bloodlust gave him a solid clue as to who would cause his end.

He knew their identity not from the color of the floating eyes but from the smell of the bloodlust radiating from them.

”How is this possible?” Vincent bit his nail as he sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor. ”Stella Crestfallen is just a Star Core cultivator. How could she be the one to kill me?”

Standing up, he looked at the bloodied floor all around him. Body parts, cut-up bodies, and more were shown haphazardly strewn around the room. A large coffin turned into an operating table dominated the center, covered in silver tools stained red with dried blood. Lying on the table was a body that was a perfect mirror image of him.

A blood clone modeled after Valandor, and the last blood clone he could make that was combat-worthy. He had made a few low-effort blood clones that he controlled in Darklight City to lay the foundations for a backup plan if the meeting with Stella in Tartarus didnʼt go according to plan. While he could transfer his infant soul to those should his main body die, it would be less than ideal as they hadnʼt been designed to handle his bloodlines.

”One worthy blood clone and five backups. This is definitely the most vulnerable Iʼve ever been.” Vincent paced around the table, a feeling of unease seeping into his bones. Despite no present threat, he felt his looming demise. He flexed his hands in frustration. This body isnʼt as strong as I need it to be. My backup plans arenʼt foolproof, and my path moving forward is clouded with death according to the threads of fate. Am I being blinded by greed? Is going after the Crestfallen bloodline a mistake?

He leaned on the table and drummed his fingers. Life as it had been was over. His bloodline farm, the Blood Lotus Sect, had crumbled beneath his feet to an outside power—a Divine-level sect, the Ashfallen Sect. A powerhouse he could not fight alone, at least not in this inferior body and without his arrays. His only way of growing stronger in this Qi-starved layer of creation had been gathering bloodlines, which had been ripped away from him. What choice was he left with? He was stuck at the peak of the Nascent Soul Realm and likely would be for an eon at this rate.

Iʼm being impatient. I know I am. Vincent ran a frustrated hand through the long, luscious hair he knew Valandor had taken good care of. It was silky smooth, just like the threads of fate that seemed to despise his continued existence. What am I doing? Why should I care what future the threads of fate have weaved for me? To be a cultivator is to defy fate and the heavens themselves. I have done it all my life until this point. I took over the family, founded a sect, discovered a way to learn three affinities, and fractured my soul to accompany them. Everybody told me I couldnʼt do this or that, but I prevailed, and they were devoured.

The threads of fate had to be wrong.

”You are just a child, Stella Crestfallen.” Vincent snarled, ”Someone I allowed to live for the sole purpose of advancing my cultivation. I wonʼt lose to the likes of you, or anyone else on this layer of creation.”

Vincent placed his hand on the chest of the blood clone and began to transfer his consciousness. No matter how many times he did this technique, it was disorienting. His perspective changed, and he blinked away the dryness and gasped some air into the bodyʼs lungs. Standing over him was Valandor—or at least had been before he took over the body for himself.

”Ugh,” he rolled off the table and almost fell, as his stiff muscles had no blood pumping to them. His body was ready after a solid few minutes of leaning on the table and heavy breathing. Filling it with Qi, he was quite disappointed at how its spirit roots were limited to the Star Core Realm, but he had no time to upgrade them.

”This should be fine. Valandor was at the peak of the Star Core Realm, so if my plan is to pass off as him, this actually works in my favor.” Valandor muttered as he slid open the coffin while using telekinesis to keep all the tools from clattering to the ground. With the lid off, he hauled his main body over the edge and plunged it into the blood. As it sank into the coffinʼs depths, the blood bubbled as if to dissolve the body.

After it settled, he stuck his hand into the coffin and swirled it around to confirm that the blood transfer had worked. The body was indeed gone. He could transport vessels between blood coffins via a technique combining blood Qi and spatial Qi, which was the lower level affinity to gravity Qi. Heʼd used this technique quite a few times recently to survive.

While I trust Morrigan, I donʼt even trust my own mind sometimes. Thereʼs no way Iʼm leaving my main body in a place someone knows of. I donʼt even know where this blood coffin leads; the runes engraved in its base randomly select a different location each time. Just in case I get mind-controlled or soul-tortured to reveal its location.

He had used his disposable blood clones that were infiltrating the Eyepatch group to build multiple bases where he then placed blood coffins. His body would have been sent to one of these locations at random.

If I die in Tartarus, then I will lose a fragment of my soul in the process. But thatʼs better than having my main body destroyed. He mused as he picked up a few spatial rings sitting to the side and slotted them onto his fingers. They contained a few weapons, a pile of spirit stones, and clothes. While he had a distaste for such pointless human things, Valandor had been a man of ʼclass,ʼ and even he was aware enough to know that showing up in his usual lack of a getup would raise suspicions. Adorning a pristine white robe in a flash of silver, he felt his preparations were as good as they were going to get.

”Now I just need to wait for Morrigan to appear and give me the good news.” Vincent resumed his position on the floor and continued to repair the damage to his soul. Two days later, as he began to grow impatient, the door to the room finally opened, and Morrigan stepped through.

”Vincent Nightrose, my lord.” She took a knee at the entrance, not daring to step inside. ”Itʼs finally time for us to have our revenge. Stella Crestfallen is inside Tartarus, and I told her to expect a visit from Valandor.”

His eyes opened, and he stood in a single motion, ”Just in time, my patience has worn thin. My preparations are complete, so letʼs go.”

”How shall we travel to Ashfallen City?”

”I cannot use aether Qi, so we will go by flying sword.” Vincent summoned a floating sword and hopped on. He could fly without a sword due to his gravity Qi, but it was all for show. Using illusion Qi, he wreathed it in white flames and flew past Morrigan, smashing through a grand window. Morrigan soon followed through the shards of glass that rained down on the dead city below with a frown.

This bookʼs true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

”Lead the way, Morrigan,” Vincent gestured with his chin, ”You know the lay of the land better than I.”

That was a lie. Vincent had gotten quite accustomed to the area via his blood clones running around the back alleys of Darklight City. He knew of the various factions and memorized every rumor he could about Stella Crestfallen and the Ashfallen Sect.

Morrigan, who was none the wiser, took the lead. They shot through the clouded skies as the cold winter air rustled their long robes and hair. Rain thundered all around them, but such a thing was nothing but a minor inconvenience to them. Despite the storm, the central building of Ashfallen City, which lay at the base of White Stone Peak that had once been home to the Ravenborne family, was easy to make out as it dominated the surroundings. Crafted from glossy black marble, it soared skyward in the unmistakable silhouette of a towering tree. Roots coiling up its sides radiated an unnerving type of Qi he couldnʼt recognize.

Why is everything tree-themed in this place?

They didnʼt stop at the grand entrance, which had a sign marking it as the Ashfallen Trading Company. Instead, they looped around to the structureʼs rear, where he saw a black stone gate guarded by two massive white wood statues with black flowers growing down their backs.

Wait, those arenʼt statues.

Star Core level lunar Qi wreathed the two beings as they swiveled their heads to glare at them.

Those must be similar to the monster under the Ashfallen Sectʼs control that I killed in Nightrose City. The difference is that one was at the Nascent Soul level, while these are weaklings at the Star Core Realm. While they look quite imposing, I could destroy them with a flick of my finger...

Vincent paused that thought as he remembered he was stuck in a body limited to the Star Core Realm due to the poor materials he had on hand to craft it from. Shaking his head, he ignored the living statues and noticed that around their legs were a few shadow affinity cultivators of various strengths.

A shadow cultivator family? Unless the Ashfallen Sect raised them, I believe there was such a family in the Tainted Cloud Sect. Has the Ashfallen Sect taken over that sect as well? Just how far do their roots spread?

Touching down, he dismissed his sword. The shadow cultivators guarding the entrance gave him a brief glance before returning to whatever task they were conducting on the utterly black portal suspended between the gate.

Morrigan gestured for him to follow, and they strode confidently toward the gate.

An older-looking cultivator moved to stop them. ”Tartarus isnʼt currently open to visitors. If you wish to challenge the staircase, come back next week.”

”Stand aside Duskwalker. We have permission from the Princess.” Morrigan said with some spite in her tone.

”The Princess?” The man raised a brow, ”Then you must be—”

”Morrigan Voidmind,” she said, and void soul flames flickered aggressively across her shoulders, ”Overseer of Slymere. This is Valandor, the White Reaper. The Princess is waiting inside to give Valandor something. You wouldnʼt want to keep the Princess waiting now, would you?”

”No, of course not, and yes, I did hear about that. Thereʼs no need to be so on edge,” the man waved her inside. ”Knock yourself out. The Princess is inside inspecting Tartarusʼs progress.”

”Thank you, I will.” Morrigan pushed past the man, and Vincent followed.

As the darkness of the portal enveloped them, Vincent used his Qi to hide his voice and angrily whispered in Morriganʼs ear. ”Whatʼs with the attitude? What if he didnʼt let us in.”

They passed through the portal and arrived on the other side in an expansive space.

Morrigan spun around and glared at him while showing off her missing arm. ”You expect me to be polite to those in the Ashfallen Sect who are beneath me when this is what they do to me? They should burn in the flames of hell. Every last one of them. Besides, they donʼt have the right to stop my entry. The word of the Princess is absolute, and she permitted us to be here.”

Reminded of the Princess, Vincent sniffed the air and grinned widely.

”Sheʼs really here.”

For the first time in a week, he smelled it. The scent of the Crestfallen Bloodline. It took everything he had to not hurtle toward the scent and dig his teeth into the succulent flesh that stood between him and that sweet nectar that would help him access the Crestfallenʼs ancient knowledge and ascend to the Monarch Realm.

He was so close. But he held himself back, if barely. This body was limited to the same realm as Stella, meaning if they were to fight, it wasnʼt clear he would win. Thatʼs why he had Morrigan with him, and her burning hatred toward the Ashfallen Sect that seemed to burn even brighter than before gave him faith that she would assist him in killing her.

”She should be up there somewhere,” Morrigan pointed, and Vincent followed her finger. They were standing in what could be described as a castle room fit for titans. Walls shrouded in darkness loomed around them. Though the space was not empty. What appeared to be buildings that bought and sold things by the signs were dotted around alongside dozens of demonic trees, with mushrooms growing from roots spiraling around their bark, providing some dim lighting.

The whole layout of this place directed oneʼs focus to a giant staircase of runically enchanted stone flanked by demonic trees that seemed to ascend through a series of shadow rifts. It was as if twenty alternate realities had lined up in ascending order with a staircase piercing through them.

”Letʼs not keep her waiting, then,” Vincent said, taking the lead. They began effortlessly ascending the steps five at a time. At first, he didnʼt notice, but after climbing ten levels, Vincent started to feel a slight pressure bearing down on him. He paused, and Morrigan came to a stop a few steps ahead.

”What is it?” She asked over her shoulder.

”I feel a pressure, do you?”

Morrigan nodded, ”The quality of the Qi increases the higher one climbs, but so does the pressure. It doesnʼt affect either of us much, but for the Qi Realm cultivators, the pressure on these upper steps would crush them to death.

”Why would they bother to climb this staircase then?”

”You see those chests at the treeʼs base?” Morrigan gestured to a nearby demonic tree.

”Yeah?”

”They contain treasures. Pills, weapons, artifacts, and more. The Ashfallen Sect stocks them to incentivize and help people on their cultivation journey. The higher one climbs, the better the rewards.”

”And the fruit growing from the trees?” Vincent asked.

”Full of Qi, and some even carry temporary effects like poison resistance or increased chance of enlightenment.”

”I see,” Vincent continued his climb. He didnʼt know why the Ashfallen Sect seemed interested in uplifting so many people into weak cultivators, nor did he care. How they wasted their resources was of little consequence to him. All he cared about was gutting Stella Crestfallen and bathing in her blood.

Despite the pressure, he began to go faster and faster. The stairs became a blur until he reached the nineteenth level. His Star Core hummed loudly in his chest as he staggered up the last flight of steps.

Nascent Soul level pressure? Only a peak Star Core Realm cultivator could survive this.

”You will have to go on without me,” Morrigan gasped as she rested against a demonic tree. ”This pressure is too much for me.”

Vincent raised a brow, ”I thought you were nearing the peak of the Star Core Realm by now.”

Morrigan shook her head, ”If I was, wouldnʼt I have been the head of the Voidmind family from the start? No, Iʼm afraid my talent didnʼt allow for such a thing.”

”Then wait here,” Vincent clicked his tongue and continued on his way. The smell of Stellaʼs blood was simply too intoxicating to ignore. If a fight ensued between them, he would have to draw her toward Morrigan to turn it into a two-on-one and secure the victory. If only it wasnʼt so dark in here, and the shadow Qi wasnʼt blocking my spiritual sense.

Reaching the top, he tried to muster all the dignity he could as he crested the final step. The pressure was intense, as if the suffocating weight of an ocean was pressing down on him from all sides.

”A hut?” Vincent raised a brow at the only thing up here. ”I had expected a grand castle or something after that laborious climb. Canʼt say Iʼm not disappointed.”

Despite his joking tone, he had his eyes peeled. The smell of Stellaʼs blood was radiating from that small hut. She had to be inside.

”Sorry to disappoint, Grand Elder Valandor!” A girlʼs voice called out. The door to the hut opened, but all he could see inside was darkness. ”I can promise the inside doesnʼt disappoint, though! Treat it as a treasure chest for your deepest desire.”

Vincent licked his lips and shuffled closer. He searched his consciousness but couldnʼt remember Stellaʼs voice or even her face. But there was no doubt about it. This was the smell of her blood.

He approached the door with his Star Core primed and ready to go. Entering, darkness washed over him, revealing a small room. Inside, it was not what he had been expecting. There was a woman here, but it was not Stella.

Morrigan sat at the table, grinning. A metal chain ending in a curved hook was dangling above the simple wooden table. Blood dripped down from a girlʼs arm that was impaled on the hook like a piece of meat at a butcherʼs.

It eerily swayed from side to side as if compelled by a nonexistent wind. Vincent sniffed. There was no doubt about it.

The torn-off arm hanging from a hook before him had belonged to Stella Crestfallen, and Morrigan likely had something to do with it.