Perched above the Swan Sea, a man stood at the edge of a steep cliff. He silently watched as the disciples of the Swan Sea Sect were mowed down by the attackers from the New Port Sect and the Ivory Fist Clan. No emotion could be seen on his old, weathered face, but the intensity in his eyes made the air around him tremble.
Finally, he let out a sigh and turned around.
He glanced at the five figures standing a cautious distance away. They were five middle-aged men, dressed in fine robes and wielding powerful weapons. All stood alert, physically and mentally prepared for a battle, tensely watching the man on the cliff.
The one in the middle appeared to be the leader. He had long, blonde hair that framed a pale face with gray eyes. He carried a heavy staff made of black wood, on top of which was the skull of a snake. Inside the hollow skull, a dark blue flame burned through the eye sockets, almost giving it the appearance of being alive. Behind him were two bulky men, large and muscular enough to put even the Ivory Fist Clan's Patriarch to shame. They were dressed in heavy armor and armed to the teeth. Their facial expressions looked more like dumb gorillas than humans, but their fleshly bodies gave off a terrifying strength.
On the blonde man's right was a man who resembled Theodore Nott, except older, with a large burn mark across his face and two swords strapped to his waist. His finger was on both hilts, and stared vigilantly at the old man by the cliff's edge. When looking into his eyes, one got the feeling they were looking at a ruthless swordsman, one who would cut down whatever stood in his way.
Finally, on the far-left was a fifth man, shrouded in mysterious artifacts and formations of his own. There were so many that it was impossible to make out his figure, and his body shimmered underneath all the runes surroundings him.
"Your plans are as meticulous as always, Lucius."
"Senior is too kind," the man with the long blonde haired bowed. "It's all due to Senior's teachings, back from my days as a disciple."
"My teachings? Did I really teach you to gang up on old men? To think that six Sacred Clans would actually cooperate against me… and you've even allied with the Star Scrying Centaur Clan."
The four men by Lucius Malfoy's side stiffened in surprise, but Lucius seemed unperturbed.
"Since he knows, you two can come out now," he called. Right after, two more figures appeared by their sides.
One was a masked man, dressed from head to toe in black. His figure appeared illusory, as if it was there but simultaneously not there, as if he was blending in with the surroundings. It seemed like he could vanish or appear with nothing but a thought. He wore ordinary robes, and unlike his companions, only wielded a small red dagger in his right hand. Yet this dagger was no ordinary weapon. Just viewing the dagger would cause someone to feel an intense pain and sense of death, like they were being stabbed in the eyes.
The other figure wasn't human, but rather a hybrid between a person and horse. It had an equine and muscular body, but the torso and above was that of a man. The head was shaped like a human's, but featured the ears and snout of a horse. The centaur towered over his companions, standing well over three times their height. He looked down towards the man on the cliff with a disdainful expression.
"Now that we've all shown ourselves, should we get started?" the man smiled.
"Hmph. Arrogant even at death's door," the centaur rumbled. His voice was deep and filled with loathing towards the old man.
"Your paltry formation may hide this cliff from most, but it cannot hide it from my eyes. You have underestimated my ability, creature," he punctuated that word by spitting on the ground.
"I was not hiding," the man simply smiled again, not offended. "Why would I need to hide from the likes of you?"
The centaur sneered, and stamped its hooves, readying to charge forward.
"If I was hiding, I would have left six years ago, when you lot first started scouting out the Swan Sea Sect. Oh? Why do you look so surprised? Did you think you were being sneaky?"
The old man laughed, and the seven figures across the cliff tensed.
"I was waiting for you lot to make your move – do not mistake my passive actions for hiding. I was simply amused, that was all. I waited and waited, waited until I thought you lost your nerve. But as it turns out, you were just waiting for the perfect moment."
"I have always acted like that," Lucius Malfoy admitted. "I do not like to act unless I am confident in the outcome."
"Really now?" the old man grinned. A ferocious edge appeared on his expression.
"We are just here to ensure you don't interfere with our business down below, that's all. Even with the seven of us, I have no illusions of being able to kill you. Once the Swan Sea Sect is destroyed, we shall take our leave."
There was a long moment of silence, as the seven foes hesitantly waited for the man's response. Finally, he sighed and nodded.
"The perils of growing old, I suppose. From the years you've been observing and weakening this sect, to when you incited the Beast Surge, then sending in the New Port Sect, and finally until today, it was like watching pieces of a puzzle fall perfectly into place. And despite all the recent unexpected events, you managed to grasp the perfect opportunity each time, turning everything in your favor," he praised again.
"This Junior accepts Senior's praise," Lucius Malfoy bowed again. To refuse it twice would be considered disrespectful.
"Before we begin, answer this one question of mine, won't you? The reason you've set your sights on me – do you still believe in that prophecy, and think it is hiding with me?"
"Indeed, I do," Malfoy responded without concealing anything. "You must think me foolish to have spent so much energy and resources on such a murky thing, but I believe it. After my Master passed, we thought the prophecy to be fulfilled. But a few years later, the Star Scrying Centaur Clan made a prophecy of their own – one that corroborated the first one. No matter what lengths it takes, we will ensure it never occurs. Our actions are for the good of all who live in our Scarlet Phoenix Empire."
"As for why we are here now, I cannot say your presence is unrelated. But not long ago, the centaurs peered into the stars again. They concluded on this day, it would be in this sect, and furthermore, if it survived past today, it would gain the power to fulfill the prophecy. Therefore, we accelerated our plans."
The old man shook his head, unaffected by the falsely righteous words Lucius Malfoy uttered.
"Lucius, you may be an excellent strategist, rare in our cultivation world, but you've gone too far. I just wished to retire by the sea, that's all. Compared to the capital, the lands here are barren of Qi, and the cultivation talents aren't even worth mentioning. Do you really think someone from these parts can fulfill the prophecy you speak of? You've wasted all this effort and blood for nothing."
"Even then, I will not leave any stone unturned," Malfoy responded firmly.
"Then you mean to say, you orchestrated this massacre based on the words of a horse? Surely you see how foolish you are?"
"Watch your words, little creature," the centaur spat. "My noble Star Scrying Centaur Clan is not to be despised. We are –"
"Noble?" the man interrupted. "If you are so noble, then why do you hide behind six humans? Can't you even face a dying old man on your own? I suggest you avoid bringing up the name of your clan – or next time, we will continue where we left off."
"And I have tortured countless goblins, hundreds for each centaur you and that wretched beast killed," the centaur shot back. "I will not rest until your whole race is exterminated."
"Do whatever you wish," the man shrugged. "I have never had anything to do with the Goblin Race. In fact, I'd be quite happy if they went extinct. I am content to spend the last few years of my life by the sea. Unless you take the water and ocean breeze from me, I won't interfere."
"And what about the girl? Will you really stand by if I kill her?" the centaur sneered, and a massive longbow appeared in his hands. At the same time, an arrow appeared on the string, notched and ready to be fired.
This arrow was a frightening weapon, containing an immense pressure on its tip. Without even being released, winds howled and revolved around the missile, creating the illusion of blades of air dancing around the head. It was like all the power lying in the air was drawn to this weapon, ready to be released.
"Do you really dare to do it? If you kill Gwenog Jones, I guarantee her Master will finish off your little clan of ponies for good."
"You!" the centaur grew furious, and he switched targets, pointing his bow at the man.
"I suppose that's as far as words will take us," the man commented.
The world around the eight figures exploded, and above the Swan Sea, a furious yet unseen battle raged.
Down on the Swan Sea, Harry stood alone on his raft. His heart was full of unwillingness, and he couldn't believe what happened to him.
'How could you?!' he wanted to scream at Slade and the others, anything to get them to come back. But his friends didn't even spare him a backwards glance, and just shot off into the distance
'All the time we spent together – was it all for nothing!?'
Though he was standing perfectly fine, he felt as if he were sinking into the Swan Sea.
"Haha, haha!" Theodore Nott laughed uproariously. "Very good! I'll spare your lives then – though my sect will not! My Master has ordered for your sect's destruction, so all of you will die!"
He turned his boat towards the raft Harry was stranded on, and set full speed ahead. He and his brother were on the raft, but behind them were ten more disciples from the New Port Sect who continued to chase after Harry's fleeing friends.
'No, they were never my friends,' Harry snarled.
'Those – those – traitors! Unforgivable!'
Unforgivable! Unforgiveable! Unforgivable! Unforgiveable!
By all accounts, he should have been terrified. Or hopeless. Or resigned. Yet, he found himself consumed with a different emotion.
Rage.
Rage, a fury on a level he had never felt before. For some reason, the feeling of being betrayed was the most loathsome and repugnant feeling to him. Whether it was the Ivory Fist Clan turning on the Swan Sea Sect, or the people he thought were his friends betraying him, there was nothing else in his mind but sheer anger.
It was a feeling that came from the innermost parts of his body, from the marrow of his bones and the depths of his heart. Perhaps even deeper than that, from his very spirit and being. Harry couldn't quite explain why he felt this way – all he knew was he did.
Along with the rage, there was a sudden clarity to his thoughts. The two from the Ivory Fist Clan would reach him first – they would be upon him in less than 10 seconds. He had seen these two before – they were at the 5th level of the Qi Absorption Realm. The following fight would be very painful, but he knew he could survive.
Though after these two, Theodore Nott and his brother would arrive in less than a minute. No amount of clarity or quick thinking could prevent his death there.
'Well, since I'm going to die anyways, there's no need to hold back! It would be a great glory if I could take these two down!'
Strengthening Flesh!
Burning Blood!
Rebirthing Muscle!
Forging Bone!
The Nameless Seed rose to action, releasing four streams of Qi through his body. Power surged across his flesh, blood, and muscles, while on his two arms, his bones gained an additional layer of defense.
"James, pay the price for crippling our Young Master! Die!" the man from the Ivory Fist Clan screamed. He raised his saber, and sent it chopping downwards.
This was a mighty slash, strengthened with the pure physical power of someone from the Ivory Fist Clan. The man put his full strength behind his strike, turning the blade into a descending guillotine.
In response, Harry let out a roar and lifted his right arm above his head to block it.
The blade slashed through the air, and sank straight into Harry's arm. It tore through his flesh as easily as a knife would cut through butter. To Harry's despair, Strengthening Flesh was no longer sufficient against his enemies. The blade continued downwards – then it struck the bone on the forearm, and stopped.
There was a horrible screeching sound, like nails on a chalkboard, and accompanying that was a burst of pain, among the worst Harry had ever felt. His very bone was being cut into and scraped at, and he howled a cry of agony.
Yet, Forging Bone proved its strength. Beneath the rent flesh and glistening blood, Harry's bones could be seen, resisting against the blade.
"What the –" the attacker's eyes opened wide in shock. Though he knew there was something unique about James' body, experiencing it for himself was a different matter.
Harry's arm was on fire, but he maintained enough clarity to do one thing.
He sent all his bottled anger through his body, exploding his strength into one finishing move. His left arm grabbed the man's neck, and pushed him sideways and backwards – right into his charging companion's spear.
In a scene eerily similar to his fight with Maynard, the spear entered and exited out the Ivory Fist Clan's disciple's body. His eyes were wide open, still frozen in an expression of shock, until he gurgled blood and collapsed onto the raft.
'Now! One more!'
Burning Blood! Rebirthing Muscle!
The first man had fallen backwards, on top of his companion. Harry leapt over the fallen disciple and onto the second one, who was still fumbling with his spear and trying to push the first man off his body. Too late, he looked up and saw Harry – right as Harry's fist smashed into his face.
BANG!
It was like an exploding balloon, albeit one filled with blood and flesh rather than air. The man's head burst open, and he too toppled over before falling into the Swan Sea.
Sick with what he had just done, Harry withdrew his arm and almost threw up into the Swan Sea. Though it wasn't his first-time seeing death, nor his first-time in a life-or-death fight, this was actually the first time he had ever killed another human.
This kind of death was messy and disgusting, bloody and nauseating. But he had no time to dwell upon it, because when he turned around he saw Theodore Nott fast approaching, using the power of his Qi to propel his boat at the maximum possible speed.
Out of options, Harry glanced in all directions for help. Everywhere he looked, all he saw were people fighting and yelling, adding to the madness that descended upon the Swan Sea. What had once been an expectant treasure hunt was now a bloodbath.
He helplessly watched as three powerful cultivators teamed up against the Sect Master. They circled around her and launched attacks from all angles, alternating between offense and defense. Even as he watched, she spat out a mouthful of blood as one of their attacks landed.
Not far away, the two Core Disciples from the Ivory Fist Clan were overwhelming Hestia Jones. Her fairy wings were dimmed, and she dripped blood from dozens of wounds. The two from the Ivory Fist Clan didn't let their former fellow Core Disciple off at all.
The battles between the Elders were even worse. Nearly all the Elders of the Swan Sea Sect lay dead or dying, unable to defeat the combined power of the New Port Sect and the Ivory Fist Clan. Only two Elders were still weakly fighting, though Harry couldn't make out who they were. They were surrounded by a dozen enemies, and wouldn't last much longer.
And as for the disciples… the situation was the worst for them. Hundreds lay dead on the rafts of the Swan Sea Sect, and hundreds more must have sank into the Swan Sea. Both the New Port Sect and Ivory Fist Clan disciples were hunting the remainder down. He saw disciples fleeing, weakly fighting, but he knew none of them would make it out alive – much less come here to save him.
Today would be recorded as the day the massacre of the Swan Sea Sect occurred.
"James, there's no escape for you!" Theodore Nott crazily roared, jolting Harry out his thoughts. Theodore's voice sent ripples across the sea, and his raft shot closer and closer. Seeing James, only at the 8th level of the Body Tempering Realm, defeat two people at the 5th level of the Qi Absorption Realm only furthered his resolve to kill him. Someone this powerful absolutely couldn't be allowed to live and grow further.
Harry's blood settled down, and as his heightened emotions withdrew, he collapsed onto the boat.
'It's over,' he panted in exhaustion. His life was over.
For a brief moment, he thought of that horrible dream last night, that one where the Ivory Fist Clan, the New Port Sect, and the Alchemists ganged up to murder him.
In the end, it turned out pretty much just like his nightmare. It truly was an omen. Perhaps he was meant to be a prophet, not a cultivator.
There was only one step remaining – the part where he drowned.
Harry looked downwards, into the depths of the Swan Sea that he knew would become his grave.
And in a flash, a plan appeared in his mind. It was crazy and desperate, but he knew what to do – it was his only chance!
'It's – it's not over! There's still a chance! And – I can make it work, because I have that!' His mind instantly made the connections, creating a flimsy, yet possible, plan in his mind. It was a ray of hope, like a dim light shining a path forward in the pitch-darkness.
'This – was this fate? Or was I just lucky? Should I try it? No, I have to try it!'
'It's decided then! As long as there's a chance… I refuse to give up!'
He was surrounded on all sides, but there was still one direction he could go – downwards! Without hesitation, he leapt off the side of the raft, diving into the Swan Sea. There was a determined look in his eyes, a touch of madness, but as he knew by now, he wasn't complete without it. There was just one issue – he underestimated Theodore's determination to kill him.
"No!" Theodore roared. He less than a minute away from killing that bastard James. If James dove into the Swan Sea, even if the chance was low, he could lose his prey. He was so desperate that he used the last move in his arsenal – he raised his sword like a javelin, and flung it with all his might. It was propelled by the power of his Qi, and pierced towards Harry like a rocket.
The sword whistled as it flew through the air. Though shot from afar, it was as deadly and as accurate as if Theodore had been standing right in front of him. It caught Harry right as he entered the water, and sank into his stomach.
There was a stabbing pain, the feel of cold metal against flesh, then another tickle as it exited out his back. Harry groaned and spat out an enormous mouthful of blood, and the next second, vanished into the Swan Sea.