Chương 32: Peace is a Fragile Thing

The sun hung low, pouring a last wash of amber light across the mountains. Mist clung to the ridges, weaving between bamboos and jade roof tiles as the sect relished the peace. A huge pond gleamed with silver lotuses, young couples in green robes walking around it hand in hand; their soft chuckles couldn't be heard but felt. On the far wall, two guards lingered by a watchtower, steam rising from their cups. Their words came in low, easy tones, broken now and then by a faint laughter.

Cicadas whispered overhead, their soft ring carried on a breeze that smelled of cedar and the faint sweetness of blooming petals drifting from the pond. It was a serene day. It really was. Until— A shadow fell on the Miracle Sect. Then came another. And another… The sun disappeared as if the sky itself had been dethroned. One guard lifted his eyes. He saw something vast sliding across the sky, and his cup slipped from his fingers.

The sect's ancestral barrier flared to life instantly, its green dome gleaming like glass. The guard's eyes glimmered under its majesty— Crack. It shattered. No explosion, no deafening sound. It was so soft that the guard couldn't be sure whether the sound came from his cup or the barrier. A rain of broken light fell on the dazed guard. The dragon head of a warship stepped into the sect's domain.

The head belonged to an Evergreen Dragon, a seamless blend of wood and metal, its eyes glaring down with wrath, as if frozen in time. Far too lifelike for something born of human hands. Two Grand Destruction Cannons flanked it, adorning the bow, shaped as Fire-Spitting Lizards with the same uncanny craftsmanship. Then the hull followed like an ancient behemoth stirred awake. It was sleek. Elegant. Smooth as it glided through the wind. Its end? Stretched toward the horizon, swallowed by the distance.

The glowing script along its side glimmered without catching light: [Dragon of Judgment] Behind it came four more ships— the Bull, the Wolf, the Tiger, and the Lion. The guard's knees buckled.

"T-The… t-t-the Jud… Judgment…"

"The Judgment Hall has arrived," Ren cut in, sparing the stammering guard from the trouble of finishing. His voice was soft, almost gentle. It carried no force, yet it echoed through the entire sect, heavy enough to crush the last embers of the daylight.

"Come forward, Miracle Sect." Ren didn't wait for their reaction. He just nodded toward the back, and the behemoth lowered itself to the middle of the sect's ground. At the same time, countless dark shadows flickered out of it.

"Do we start the sealing immediately, or after the verdict, Leader?" One of them stepped behind him, her very being eerily silent. Ren stole a glance from the corner of his eye. Crimson hair, eyes of the same shade— narrowed in that perpetual, knowing smile, even though her golden mask was engraved with a mouth wide open as if wailing. She was slim, but not petite. On the contrary, she was almost as tall as he, with fiery curves and skin-tight clothes that left little to the imagination.

"You don't have to call me Leader anymore, Demoness. I've stepped down from the position," he said, eyes back at the front.

"The mask is still here, isn't it?" she answered in her usual sultry voice.

"You know there's no retirement for us. Not even in hell."

"Then let's hope we won't go there. Give the signal, get them ready for sealing. I don't want to waste time," Ren uttered with disinterest, not moving even when the ship landed with a heavy thud.

"As you wish, Leader," she muttered, though her smirk was loud enough to be heard. She clapped her hands.

"Alright, boys! Chop chop, our Leader is irritated… again. You know the drill, you know the moves. Now, let's dance!" As Ren clicked his tongue, she and nine others flew into the air. All of them wore masks, each with a unique expression, but cast in silver. Their auras flared to life in tandem, merging together as a huge silver scale manifested behind them. Just as they started—"Wait!" A man dashed toward them, his robes thrown on in haste and disheveled, a smear of pink lipstick still lingering on his cheek.

"What is the Judgment Hall doing here? Why was I not informed?" The Demoness paused. She raised her hand, seeming to treat the sect leader as a fly to swat, when Ren waved them to continue. Throwing a disdainful glare, she returned to the sealing. The scale flashed in myriad colors as beacons covering the sect's domain rose into the air and started to gather into it.

"I said—""Calm down, Sect Master Shangguan. They are just doing their job," Ren cut the disheveled man off, appearing right in the air eerily, his presence hidden like a ghost. The crimson glare in his eyes flickered.

"Eldest Brother of Judgment Sect," Master Shangguan's face showed a momentary confusion, though he relaxed quickly and put on an elegant smile.

"To what blessing we owe your and your entourage's sudden visit, may this humble one learn? And why don't I know anything?" Ren let out a gentle chuckle, though it sounded warped. Hollow.

"Since when does the Judgment Hall owe anyone an explanation?" Sect Master Shangguan's smile faltered.

"I didn't mean it like that. It's just that the Judgment Hall didn't have to come all the way here if there's a problem. Elder Snowraven could take care of it. He is, after all, an elder responsible for an entire Grand Prefecture. I don't think this needs a higher authority than—""Elder Snowraven's verdict is," Ren cut him off once more, voice colder and final, "a different matter than yours, Sect Master. I advise you to just wait."

"But this—""No buts." The man frowned; his smile had already disappeared without a hint. He trembled faintly as his aura at the Soul Formation realm bled into the space around him. The crowd that had already gathered around the ship took a step back in fear.

"Kid," he said, forcing the words out through gritted teeth, "You think we're one of those minor sects you can simply storm over? Even Snowraven can't talk to me like this. Now, explain what's happening while I'm still civil and showing respect for your Eldest title."

"Or?" Ren gave a playful smile beneath the mask. Yet the way his eyes curled was enough.

"Seems like I was slacking off far more than I thought, since you can talk like this against the Judgment Hall." He clasped his hands behind his back, the armor giving a quiet groan. Sect Master Shangguan's pressure suddenly tightened, focusing on him, but Ren acted as if completely oblivious. And he was, actually. Under the silver scale, nobody could touch a Judgment Hall enforcer, let alone their leader. He took a step forward, entering the man's personal space without hesitation.

His hollow eyes stared deep into the man's flickering eyes.

"To be honest, you're actually helping me," Ren started with a lighthearted tone, even patting the man's shoulder like they were old friends. Although Sect Master Shangguan's jaw tightened at the touch, he didn't move away.

"You know, I had a few hesitations on the way here. After all, this matter involves a big sect with thousands of disciples and countless mortals. But you're doing a favor to me. My hesitations are almost gone."

"So?"

"Let me ask you a question, Sect Master of the Miracle Sect. No matter the place or time, what would happen to the wicked?" Sect Master Shangguan frowned, but didn't answer.

"Seems like you don't," Ren said, his mockery slowly overflowing.

"Then I'll answer for your sake. Their fate never changes. If they are lucky, someone beats the living shit out of them and calls that a lesson. If they are unlucky, on the other hand…" he trailed off, cocking his head slightly.

"The Judgment Hall moves in to cleanse the world of their cockroach-like presence." An eerie smirk, mirroring the mask, bloomed on his lips.

"What—" Sect Master Shangguan flinched and immediately tried to lunge at him. His aura erupted, resembling a terrifying wave. But it was already too late. The silver scale, having already finished the process, flashed once. He stumbled in the air, his aura dying like a snuffed flame. In just one moment, before he could even finish taking that one step, he plummeted to the ground, hands flailing in a burst of panic. The earth blasted apart, leaving a crater behind.

"WANG REN!" he roared in pure wrath. Panicked screams rose as a few elders ran to help him stand.

"You can't do this! You—""Silence." Ren's head moved once, barely enough to be called a shake, and the renowned Sect Master's voice stifled in the throat. The world fell into an eerie silence, but he didn't even spare another glance. Demoness appeared beside him as the other silver-masked commanders flashed behind him, standing in a perfect line as though their every step were measured.

"The sealing is complete, Leader."

"Read the verdict." Ren nodded once, eyes fixed somewhere beyond the crowd. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. The Demoness reached into the folds of her sash, drawing forth a crimson scroll bound in black cord. With a twist of her fingers, the cord unraveled and the parchment unfurled, hovering in the air.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the Miracle Sect," she uttered, her voice carried a soft but undeniable edge, "By the directive of Judgment Hall, acting under the mandate of Supreme Judgment Sect and in accordance with the heavens' justice, the Miracle Sect is hereby summoned for formal investigation. Congratulations to you all. Not many are blessed with the chance to land straight into the lap of the Judgment Hall— some work their whole lives to avoid it. Ahem—" The crowd shifted uneasily. Ren turned his head.

Demoness coughed immediately, her tone turning formal again.

"Upon review of unresolved cases and prior rulings recorded within the last five decades, the Hall has determined sufficient grounds to suspect: Negligence in carrying out sentences decreed by higher authorities. Concealment of individuals tied to capital crimes. Harm inflicted upon mortals. Misrepresentation of sect records on those cases and other crimes. And…" she paused, squirming a little as if she was struggling to hold herself back.

But the piercing gaze that never left her back seemed to help her make up her mind.

"Misuse of Eternal Brands." Sharp gasps echoed as some of the people watching crumpled to the ground, clutching their mouths. She let the scroll float in the air as she put her hands on her waist, crimson eyes scanning the crowd, lingering for just a bit longer on Sect Master Shangguan's tense frame.

"The investigations have already started for these crimes. Until we're done here, the Miracle Sect's grand barrier will stay sealed under hall authority. The Sect Master and the elders' cultivation—" an aura vaster than the Sect Master erupted, drawing terrified screams from below, "—are restricted from external projection. And every archive, registry, and restricted ground you've got will be opened to Hall Inspectors without delay. Noncompliance will be treated as obstruction of justice under the Accord.

The rest, I believe, is best spoken by our Leader." Ren stepped forward naturally, the silver scale shining on him like it was waiting for this moment.

"Shangguan Wei," he said, voice flat, unhurried, "son of Sect Master Shangguan, Young Lord of Miracle Sect, is charged with abduction, violation, and murder of a mortal woman. The incident happened under the Miracle Sect's protection ground. It was dismissed as an insane man's slander under the ruling of Elder Snowraven." The air shifted. Eyes darted toward the Sect Master, toward the elders, toward anyone who might deny it.

"The mortal punished by a Liar's Brand, without the involvement or knowledge of higher authorities." No word of protest emerged. Ren's tone didn't change.

"Both will stand trial. The accused will be taken into Hall custody immediately." The words hung heavy, disbelief rippling through the gathered crowd. However, before they could even process, someone appeared in front of Ren. He wore a silver mask, the engraved mouth's lips pressed flat. In his grip, dragging like a sack of grain, was a young man bound in blacksteel chains— hands, ankles, even his throat locked in links carved with pure sealing runes.

His face was swollen and sickly pale, one eye bruised black and blood crusted on his lips, fine silk robes ripped in places. The silver mask held him hanging by the chains before Ren.

"Shangguan Wei," the silver mask reported, voice muffled and sharp.

"Apprehended at his residence, attempting escape through a teleportation array in the basement. We found…" he trailed off, then bowed his head, taking deep breaths.

"We found corpses. Female corpses, Leader. All strangled to death, all…" Ren lifted his hand to stop him, an unreadable emotion flashing through his eyes.

"Anyone alive?"

"There's not one… left intact," the man answered. He trembled when Ren's gaze swept past him.

"Have you secured the evidence?"

"Already did, Leader," the silver mask answered, then gulped audibly.

"I asked Roaring Breeze and his team to stand guard there."

"Good job." Ren said, looking past the wretched bastard to 'its' equally wretched father.

"Sect Master of Miracle Sect and its members." He took a breath.

"This…" Ren muttered, his voice echoing like a roar, "is the reason your gates are sealed."

"Pardon me, Eldest of Judgment," an old man stepped forward, clasping his hands together.

"I'm not saying such a thing doesn't deserve punishment, not at all. However, is the death of a mere mortal warrant such a heavy-handed approach? Like sealing an entire high-tier sect? Isn't this absurd?" The moment he finished, a crimson shade flashed onto him. Ren suddenly took the chains from the silver mask's hand. They pulsed once, and the young man shivered in agony, his mouth opened in a silent scream. His eyes rolled back, but Ren didn't give him that chance. He didn't deserve to faint and escape the pain.

Ren's hands shot out like lightning, one clasping its shoulder while the other pierced into its gut, and didn't stop until he found its core. The young man spasmed, shades of purple flooding its face, but its screams stayed trapped in its throat.

"What are you doing?!" Screams rose instantly. Sect Master of Shangguan's whole face went deadly pale, and he suddenly dropped to his knees. Ren ignored them, his eyes only on the pathetic monster in front of him. He watched the light in its eyes slowly fade. Just then, its foundation flared as though detecting the threat. A mountain, no, a rock, no— two small stones stacked on top of each other appeared behind him.

"What a pathetic sight," Ren muttered, speechless. Even a loose earth cultivator wouldn't condense such a weak foundation. Two sharp cracks rang out, and the image crumbled to nothing, along with the bastard's shoulder bone. It vomited blood and curled up like a dying worm, breaths turning almost non-existent. The crowd of disciples collectively took a step back, leaving the elders with grim expressions in front.

Demoness clicked her tongue, whispering to the masked figures, "I said he was irritated, you said he was normal. Look who was right." Ren acted as if he couldn't hear them, and his piercing gaze returned to the daring old man.

"The reason he remains alive after the evidence found is," he paused, his sharp frown melting.

"Because he is a mere mortal." Whispers rippled through the crowd, but no one dared to move. Their gaze flickered between the pathetic captive and the Sect Master. Yet Sect Master Shangguan remained silent like his son. He kowtowed at last, his head on the ground.

"Y-Y-you!"

"What you? Want to take his place?" Ren felt as if the cold apathy he had carefully woven over his emotions faltered for a moment, though he gripped it tightly the next second.

"Let me ask you a question, as well. Care to tell me what you were before you started cultivation, venerable elder of the Miracle Sect?"

"Or did you forget why all sects signed the 'Mortal Protection Laws' after the great slaughter? Maybe your memory of it got a little rusty since two thousand years passed." The elder gulped when all gazes concentrated on him, including tens of crimson pairs. He then made the wise move. He bowed and stepped back. And with him stepping back, the whispering died completely as if the injustice they felt inside was shattered by the reality.

However, before this fact settled in them, a golden-masked figure—this one bearing an evil smile—landed behind Ren, the air around him sharp with the scent of frost. In his grip struggled a tall, wiry man with white hair, bound at the wrist and ankles in the same blacksteel chains. His long sleeves were torn, his face smeared with dirt and blood as though he had been beaten black and blue before getting captured.

"Leader," Frostbite reported, voice excited and still rippling with bloodlust.

"Elder Snowraven came and tried to escape as soon as he saw our ships— just like you guessed. What do you want us to do with him?" The crowd erupted. Snowraven's head jerked up, eyes burning with a mix of outrage and fear as they found Sect Master Shangguan.

"You called me here?!" He roared, voice a rasping snarl.

"You fucking bastard! If you're gonna die, why are you dragging me down too?!" Sect Master Shangguan lowered his head, avoiding eye contact. But the shivering in his shoulders… he couldn't hide that. Snowraven waited for something, anything, but no help came. His head turned toward Ren slowly, like he was having an internal fight about whether he could face it or not. For a moment, his lips parted, but nothing came out. The crimson gleam behind that mask was enough to drain the color from his face.

In the end, all his rage left its place to desperation.

"Y-young Master… I—" His voice cracked.

"We can… we can talk about this. I can explain." He took a step forward, almost falling from the air as the chains clinked and let him float.

"I didn't do anything. You know how these things get… twisted in high-tier sects. They insisted on using a Liar's Brand, saying a mere mortal daring to slander the great immortals should be punished. I did what I thought was—" Ren tilted his head slightly. Just slightly. Snowraven's breath hitched. His knees bent as if they were no longer entirely under his command.

"Please… you don't need to do this. Just stop thinking like the Hall Master. I'm part of the Judgment Sect too, I'm not an outsider— be the Eldest I know. Merciful, gentle, forgiving. I-I'm ready to accept any punishment…" Ren didn't move, didn't speak. But his glare sharpened, and Demoness subtly approached. The silence pressed in until Snowraven's head touched his boots. He continued to mumble gibberish, begging and crying without caring about his fame, position, or power.

Ren lifted his head to avoid, as if looking one more moment at this pathetic excuse of a human might awaken some dark urges.

"Read his charges and imprison him," he murmured, trying to save his boots from a flood of tears and snot. But Snowraven didn't even hesitate and lunged again, his wailing getting louder.

"You can't do this! Not to me! I'm your elder, boy, I-I watched you when you were just little—" As if she were waiting for this for an eternity, Demoness's leg snapped out in one sharp motion, boot catching his face with a sick crack.

"Don't you have any shame, huh, you old bastard?" She grabbed Snowraven from the collar like lifting a stray cat, her hand already lifted to slap him.

"You don't deserve to be called one of us, do you get it? You—""Demoness," Ren called, his gaze heavy.

"Get him out of my sight. I've wasted enough time here." Demoness didn't move for a second, then grabbed the man. Just as she was about to throw the man toward Frostbite—"Damn you! Wang Ren! Damn you, you cruel son of a—" Snowraven bellowed like a pig being dragged to the slaughterhouse. Ren froze. Even though Demoness reacted fast and slapped him before Snowraven could finish his words, it was too late.

"You say… this is being cruel?" Ren murmured, voice as low as a whisper.

"Demoness, let him go." The air stilled. Her gaze flicked between him and Snowraven, and she hesitated, her fingers tightening around Snowraven's collar. Only when Ren's gaze slowly shifted to her did she do as said. Snowraven fell and smashed to the ground. Yet he rose back a second later, his hawk-like eyes locking with Ren's. His lips trembled.

"I—""Shut up." The words fell, and Snowraven's voice vanished. The silver scale shone its light onto the man.

"Kneel." Like a mountain pressed over him, he collapsed onto his knees. Yet he didn't bow. Not because of defiance. Because Ren didn't allow.

"Cruel," Ren repeated, as though tasting the word. It was disgusting. Rotten.

"I guess you had forgotten what this word entails." He slowly descended until his boots touched the shattered ground. He stood before Snowraven, stared at the old man's swollen, blood-smeared face, and offered his open palm. A trifling brand lay in it. Liar's Brand. Snowraven's pupils narrowed to pinpricks. An uncontrollable shiver took hold of his body as tears burst. The brand approached his forehead, a black light flickering as though it smelled a prey.

It moved slowly, so excruciatingly slowly that every inch felt like a lifetime. His mouth opened and closed, face twisting until he resembled more of an abomination rather than a human. He struggled to the last moment, but it was a futile effort. Even his breaths were cut short. Just as the brand touched his forehead, a silver energy covered Ren's hand. It passed through his forehead without touching, the black light returning to motionless.

"This," Ren muttered, watching the frozen man, "isn't being cruel. Be grateful I still know the difference." The pressure faded as Snowraven collapsed to the ground, hyperventilating. Sweat burst from every pore, and a yellow stain slowly spread beneath him. Ren stared at him without a change in expression and slightly shook his head at last.

"Start apprehending." Demoness immediately beamed like an obedient puppy, yet the way she was rubbing her hands eagerly didn't seem innocent. Ren gave one last glance at the scared crowd underneath. Since even an elder of Judgment couldn't escape and begged pitifully, the silence was total— no whispers, no movement, just the stiffness of people afraid to breathe. He knew he'd left them with a scar, the kind his soul brother saw far too often. Whether it disturbed him or not… was a thought for another time.

So instead of saying anything, he flashed to the ship's bow. To somewhere they can't see him. You're safe if you are innocent. And if otherwise… then you don't deserve my pity. The thought hit him the moment he took off the mask. Then came the others in the form of a flood as if the mask was the only barrier between them and his mind. He nearly stumbled on the spot, a wave of dizziness washing over him. He saw the blood in his hands… again. These cursed hands could never be clean. Ren wanted to vomit.

Then and there. But he couldn't. His body refused even if his mind tried to. Instead, he lifted his head to the sky that was already tainted by the faint darkness and let out a shaky breath. Terror incarnate, huh… The job was done, no matter how hard it was. I can be me, at least for a while.