The Author's Draft

Chapter 75 - 71: The Heart of Slaughter [I]

The moment Long Chen’s consciousness returned fully and his mismatched eyes opened—one burning crimson, the other black with silver patterns swirling in its depths—his mind went blank.

Not the blank of unconsciousness or the blank of losing himself to Slaughter Intent like he’d experienced for the past week.

This was different. Complete. Absolute.

The blood sea dissolved around him, the fortieth floor chamber disappeared, and even the awareness of his own body faded into nothing.

Then he was somewhere else entirely.

Long Chen found himself standing in a room he didn’t recognize.

The space was large and circular, with walls made of dark stone that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Spiritual formations covered every surface, glowing with power that made the air itself hum with energy. But these weren’t the formations he’d seen in the cultivation world—they were older, more complex, carved with such precision that looking at them too long made his eyes hurt.

In the center of the room stood a man.

He was tall, powerfully built, with long red hair that fell past his shoulders in waves. Blood covered him completely—soaked into his robes, splattered across his face and hands, dripping from the sword he held loosely at his side. His cultivation base was so overwhelming that Long Chen couldn’t even begin to estimate what realm he’d reached, because the spiritual pressure radiating from this man made King Realm look like a candle compared to the sun.

The man’s face was blurred, as if reality itself refused to let Long Chen see his features clearly. Every time Long Chen tried to focus on the details, they shifted and changed like looking at someone through water.

But the aura emanating from this figure was absolutely appalling.

Long Chen tried to breathe and couldn’t. The pressure was too much, too absolute, crushing down on him until his knees buckled and his vision started going dark at the edges. This wasn’t killing intent like Yan Shou had demonstrated, this was something far beyond that—the presence of someone who’d transcended normal cultivation so completely that just existing in the same space as them became dangerous.

’What... what is this?’

The man wasn’t looking at Long Chen. His attention was focused downward, on something he held cradled carefully in his arms despite all the blood covering him.

A baby.

The infant was crying, wailing with the distinctive sound of a newborn that hadn’t been in the world very long. The man shifted his grip gently, trying different positions while making soft sounds that were completely at odds with the overwhelming violence his presence suggested.

"Shh, it’s alright," the man said, his voice surprisingly gentle despite carrying enough power that the words themselves made the formations on the walls pulse brighter. "I know, I know. You’re scared. But you’re safe now."

The baby kept crying.

The man tried rocking slightly, then changed his hold again, clearly uncomfortable with the task but determined to succeed. "Come on, little one. Your father’s here. Nothing’s going to hurt you while I’m—"

A woman’s voice cut through the room, sharp with urgency. Long Chen couldn’t see her—his vision seemed locked on the man and the crying infant—but her presence felt almost as overwhelming as the red-haired figure’s.

"We’re running out of time," she said, her tone carrying desperation barely held in check. "The hunters will find this location within hours. If we’re still here when they arrive—"

"I know," the man interrupted, his voice still gentle despite the tension clearly winding through him. "I know the risks. But I need... just a few more moments."

"We don’t have moments!" The woman’s voice cracked slightly. "Every second we delay puts him in more danger. If they capture him, if they discover what he is—"

"They won’t." The man’s tone hardened into something absolute. "I won’t allow it."

Silence fell for several heartbeats. The baby’s crying had reduced to hiccupping whimpers, though the infant still clearly wasn’t happy about the situation.

"The seal is ready," the woman said finally, her voice quieter now. "But you know what it requires. You know what you’ll have to—"

"I know," the man said again. He looked down at the baby in his arms, and even though Long Chen couldn’t see his face clearly, the weight of emotion in that gaze was palpable. "Sending him away. Hiding him. Making him forget everything—it’s the only way to keep him safe."

"It’s not just sending him away," the woman said softly. "The seal we’re using... it will erase every trace of his origin. His bloodline will be dormant, his cultivation potential locked, his very existence hidden from those who would hunt him. He’ll live as an ordinary mortal until the seal begins to break naturally."

"How long?" the man asked.

"Years. Decades, possibly. The seal is designed to last until he’s strong enough to survive what awakening will bring." The woman paused. "And even then, there’s no guarantee he’ll survive the awakening itself. The power sealed within him is—"

"He’ll survive," the man stated with absolute conviction. "He’s my son. Our son. He has our blood, our strength. When the time comes, he’ll be strong enough."

Long Chen watched as the man shifted the baby’s position again, cradling the infant against his chest with surprising tenderness for someone radiating such overwhelming violence.

Then the man did something that made Long Chen’s breath catch.

He reached into his own chest.

Not metaphorically. His hand literally passed through his sternum as if his flesh were water, reaching inside to grasp something vital. Spiritual energy exploded outward from the contact, flooding the room with power so dense that the formations on the walls flared bright enough to be painful.

The man’s face contorted with pain—the first sign of vulnerability Long Chen had seen—but his hand didn’t waver. He gripped something inside his own chest and pulled.

His heart emerged, still beating, still pulsing with power that made the entire room shake. But this wasn’t a normal heart, not even a cultivator’s heart strengthened by spiritual energy. This organ was black as the void between stars, covered in the same incomprehensible symbols Long Chen had seen manifesting around himself when the seal broke, and it radiated power that felt ancient beyond comprehension.

"Are you certain?" the woman asked, her voice barely above a whisper.