Death Cultivator : Rise For Revenge!

The ring of clashing steel and the guttural groans of agony echoed sharply in the ears of a man who looked no different from a corpse. He lay broken in the heart of a primordial wilderness, a forest so dense that light itself seemed to have forgotten its existence.

"Huo... Huo Tian Xian... You must live... to avenge us..."

"Aaaargh! The pain!"

"Huo Tian Xian..."

"Huo Tian Xian!"

Piercing screams and frantic shouts tore through his mind, accompanied by fragmented visions playing on a loop. He saw a middle-aged couple—his parents—sprawled in pools of their own blood, which stained their mouths and nostrils. Other bodies lay scattered across the courtyard of a manor bearing the name 'The Pavilion of Serenity,' their flesh marred by deep, jagged sword wounds.

"Huo Tian Xian..."

"Huo Tian Xian... Wake up! Rise and reclaim our vengeance!"

The man’s fingers twitched. His body gave a faint, rhythmic shudder before a sudden, crimson light erupted, enveloping him. His eyes snapped open. A violent tremor racked his frame, every muscle seizing in tension, before his body was hoisted into the air by an unseen, supernatural force.

"AAAAAAAGH!"

A primal scream tore from his throat—a sound drenched in raw emotion, echoing with a depth of fury and sorrow that shook the very trees. As the echo died down, he was slammed back onto the earth. In that same instant, a sword sheathed in blood-red scabbard descended from the void, landing perfectly in his right hand.

"Rise... and let the Huo bloodline’s vengeance begin!"

Two months later...

"I heard the Huo Clan is nothing but a memory now. Ever since the Clan Leader and his wife were slaughtered, they haven’t stood a chance. Not with that useless waste of a son as the sole heir," one patron at a Qihua City tavern remarked, laughing heartily to his companion.

"Did you hear? The Huo daughter has been turned into a slave! She’s being humiliated and toyed with by the Meng Clan—serving in the very manor of the people who murdered her parents. Isn't that just poetic?"

Laughter rippled through the tavern again. There was no pity to be found; the patrons seemed to find the total annihilation of the Huo family a source of cheap entertainment.

"But what actually happened to the son? Word is he vanished. He hasn't been seen in weeks. Is the 'trash' finally dead?"

Silence followed the question, a brief moment of uncertainty. Huo Tian Xian had indeed disappeared on the night of the massacre, while his sister had been dragged away to the Meng residence.

"I’d bet he’s dead. Probably rotting in a ditch or eaten by dogs," another man sneered. "That night, after the Mengs took the girl, they released ten hounds to feast on the corpses. Nobody could even identify the bodies afterward; they were torn to shreds."

The crowd nodded in grim agreement. However, one man, dressed in somber black, remained quiet before looking up at the others.

"Aren't you afraid he might crawl back from the grave as something... malevolent? I once heard a legend about a cultivator who died a gruesome death, only to return months later as a Demonic Cultivator."

The table went silent. That particular legend was an old one, whispered through generations by their ancestors—a tale that still had the power to chill the blood of any listener.

The sudden silence was greeted by an abrupt change in the atmosphere. The sky outside, previously clear, turned a bruised, unnatural black. The warm afternoon air vanished, replaced by a suffocating, ominous pressure. A gale howled through the streets, and a crack of lightning struck directly above the tavern.

BANG!

The wooden doors and window shutters were blown off their hinges, splintering against the walls. The patrons shrieked, scrambling from their seats in a panic.

"Aaaah!"

Fear flooded the room. The women wailed in terror as chaos erupted. The men, fueled by instinct and dread, unsheathed their blades, pointing them toward the shattered entrance with trembling hands.

"Co-could it be true? Has the Huo boy really become a Demonic Cultivator?" a man in white stammered, his voice shaking. "We were just talking about him... the sky was clear a moment ago! Is he here? Is he angry because we mocked his kin?"

No one answered. They stood frozen, eyes fixed on the doorway where a silhouette was slowly emerging from the gloom.

"Wh-who’s there?"

A man clad in robes of deep crimson and obsidian stepped into the light. In his hand, he gripped a sword that pulsed with a sinister red glow. His face was a mask of cold indifference, his eyes burning with an intense, predatory hostility.

As he crossed the threshold, the sheer pressure of his aura caused the remaining furniture to splinter. Tables began to levitate, hovering several inches off the floor.

"Young Master Huo Tian Xian! It’s him!" someone screamed, triggering a fresh wave of panic.

The crowd retreated, stumbling over the counter, while the tavern owner and servants cowered behind the bar, shivering uncontrollably.

Huo Tian Xian stood in the center of the room. His presence was commanding, his gaze so sharp it felt like a physical weight upon their chests. Seeing their blatant terror, a thin, cynical smirk curled his lips. His eyes flashed with a light that promised total devastation.

"Why the sudden fear?" he asked, his voice low and cutting. The patrons swallowed hard, backing away further. "Weren't you just enjoying the gossip of my family’s ruin? Laughing at the suffering of others?"

The room went deathly still. Not a single soul dared to breathe, let alone speak. Their hands, still clutching swords, shook violently. Huo Tian Xian’s jaw tightened in a flash of pure rage, and he flicked his fingers.

Sling—!

In a heartbeat, every sword was ripped from the patrons' hands. The blades whirled through the air in a chaotic blur before snapping into a perfect circle, the tips stopping mere inches from the throats of their former owners.

"AAAAAAAH!"

The screams of terror reached a fever pitch. It was clear to everyone now—this was not the "useless" heir they once knew. This was something far more dangerous.

"Young Master... please... do not destroy my livelihood," the tavern owner begged, his forehead pressed to the floor. "If there is anything I can do to serve you, name it. Just... please don't kill us..."

Huo Tian Xian’s smirk widened into a cold, mirthless grin. He turned his gaze toward the men who had been the loudest in their mockery. They collapsed to their knees instantly, realizing they were no longer facing a low-level cultivator, but a monster they couldn't hope to comprehend.

"Young Master, we beg for mercy! We were wrong... our tongues were wicked! we will make amends! We'll do anything!" they cried out in unison.

"Amends?" Huo Tian Xian let out a dark, booming laugh that sent shivers down their spines. When his face suddenly turned stone-cold again, the air seemed to freeze. "Give me your worthless lives. Only then will I consider the debt settled."