Chapter Text
He is weak. Liu Qingge closed his eyes and shifted in his bonds, the cold iron shackles biting into his wrists and ankles. He was bound immobile, his qi sealed by something from within, a captive in a dank, dimly lit dungeon deep perhaps within the bowels of a foreboding structure in the demon realm. The surroundings permeated with the stench of mildew and stale blood, and the walls seemed to press in on him, suffocating.
If he wasn't so weak, he wouldn't have fallen prey to the enemy. He could have stood his ground, defended Shen Qingqiu's body from further desecration. But no, he couldn't even defeat a cocky young demon lord like Luo Binghe, let alone contend with the powerful fire-natured demon who had brazenly breached Huan Hua Palace, challenging Luo Binghe for the possession of the Xin Mo sword. They were in the midst of their daily clashing when the attack happened.
Liu Qingge's memory shifted back to the earlier happenings within the half-destroyed halls of the Huan Hua Palace where most of his daily battles with Luo Binghe took place. The air was thick with the acrid stench of smoke and the discordant clamour of battle. Cultivators and demons alike clashed in a whirlwind of steel and sorcery, their cries echoing off the vaulted ceilings.
Scimitar-wielding, fire-blasting humanoid demons poured through shattered windows and gaping holes in the walls, met by a stalwart line of qi-wielding cultivators. Mobei-jun, the ice demon, wove intricate patterns with his hands, summoning jagged lances of frozen vapour to douse the roaring flames licking up the tapestries and devouring the ornately carved furniture.
Hoards of attackers spilled into the throne room, where Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge had been engaged in one of their interminable bouts of “fighting" for the past two shichen. It had never been real fighting; the battles he fought against Luo Binghe were painfully one sided. Luo Binghe had been toying and humiliating him from day to day to remind him that he was not powerful enough to even go up properly against a lowly halfbreed who somehow managed to conquer the realms.
"Well, well, Shishu," Luo Binghe's commanding voice which resonated with authority cut through the din, laced with mocking sarcasm as a burning tapestry fell between them from the gilded ceiling above. "It appears we'll have to delay our little scuffle for another time," his words dripping with a potent blend of arrogance and power as the flames danced around them.
Mobei-jun was there in an instant, sweeping his hand in an elegant arc to smother the errant flames with a thick sheen of ice. His eyes, a deep, crystalline blue, betrayed no hint of fear or exertion.
"Junshang— it's Zhuoyan-jun," the ice demon informed his master, voice as unruffled as a frozen lake.
Luo Binghe's lips peeled back in a feral snarl of displeasure, revealing a hint of lengthening fangs. "The Scalding Flames himself— this Lord should have killed him when he had the chance."
With a casual flick of his wrist, he lashed out at a screaming fire demon lunging towards him, his sword a blur of gleaming metal that rent the creature asunder. A dozen more followed in its wake, only to be cut down with equal ease. Liu Qingge’s eyes narrowed— there, pure power; proof that Luo Binghe had indeed been playing a game of cat and mouse with him for years.
"Where is that traitorous bastard?" Luo Binghe growled, ebony hair whipping about his face like a wild thing.
"Heading towards the Jade Lily chamber," Mobei-jun replied impassively, black spikes of ice erupting from the floor to impale demons breaking through a side door.
For a brief instant, a look of sheer panic flitted across Luo Binghe's features before being subsumed by an imperious mask. The half-demon crossed the distance between himself and Liu Qingge in two long strides, seizing the peak lord by the front of his bloodstained collar.
"Looks like we'll have to call a temporary truce, Shishu," he purred, his tone dripping condescension. "This Lord has some… unwelcomed guests to exterminate. And he needs Shishu to come with him. Time for Shishu to become useful."
The world blurred around Liu Qingge as Luo Binghe dragged him through the corridors at preternatural speed, too swift for the human mind and senses to fully register. Before he could muster a reply or protest, they were hurtling through the palace, cleaving a path through the ranks of armed, shrieking, flame-throwing demons that seemed to multiply with every corner turned.
It was chaos incarnate— the air thick with the thunderous boom of collapsing masonry and the sickly-sweet reek of charred flesh. Luo Binghe was a whirlwind of motion, his sword weaving intricate patterns of death, felling the demon hordes with almost casual ease even as he propelled them ever forward like an unstoppable force.
They eventually skidded to a halt before a set of massive metal doors, the heavy plates dented and scorched from some previous battle. Luo Binghe's chest heaved with exertion, but his eyes burned with a manic light.
"Now, Shishu," he intoned, voice pitched low and sinister, "this Lord will grant Shishu's wish to see Shizun. Mu-shishu should be in there too."
"What?!" Liu Qingge's brow furrowed in confusion, his mind struggling to make sense of Luo Binghe's words through the hazy fog of blood loss and fatigue. A gash along his upper arm wept crimson, and he could feel his qi reserves dwindling as he fought to stem the bleeding. A wave of dizziness washed over him.
"Do not play dumb!" Luo Binghe snarled, his eyes flaring crimson as the demonic insignia on his forehead blazed with eldritch power. "Swear to this Lord that you will protect Shizun for the remainder of your insignificant life!"
"Shen Qingqiu and Mu Qingfang are behind these doors?!" Liu Qingge rasped incredulously.
In the blink of an eye, Luo Binghe closed the distance between them, seizing Liu Qingge by the front of his robes and hoisting him up until the Liu Qingge’s booted feet dangled above the floor. Liu Qingge's hand reflexively clamped around Luo Binghe's wrist in a white-knuckled grip.
"Yes!" The half-demon's fangs glinted in the flickering torchlight. "And time is running out. Will you swear it, or do I have to crush you here and now?!"
Liu Qingge glared defiantly into Luo Binghe's eyes, then, with a burst of qi, landed a punishing blow across the demon's face that snapped his head to the side. "I will!" he spat, flecks of saliva flying from his lips. "As if you need to threaten me so, impudent brat!"
A harsh bark of laughter was Luo Binghe's only response before he unceremoniously flung Liu Qingge away from him. The peak lord's world exploded into a kaleidoscope of pain as he hit the marble floor, skidding backwards until his back and shoulders slammed against the unyielding doors with a booming impact at an awkward angle. Something cracked, and white-hot agony lanced through him.
Before he could react, before he could even process what was happening, Luo Binghe was on him again, violently wrenching him up by his sword arm. Liu Qingge felt the joint in his shoulder pop out of its socket with a wet, sickening crunch, his vision whiting out as he was nearly overwhelmed by the intensity of the new anguish layering itself over the first.
Then Luo Binghe's lips crashed against his own in a savage, impulsive embrace. The halfbreed forced his jaw apart, thrusting a sinewy tongue between his lips, grazing teeth with a raw intensity. Liu Qingge recoiled as the taste of copper flooded his senses— whether from his own wounds or Luo Binghe's, he couldn't discern. He choked as the metallic tang coated his tongue, a bitter reminder of the violence surrounding them.
Relaxing his grip slightly, the half-demon smirked at him, teeth stained scarlet. It dawned on Liu Qingge then that his earlier blow must have split Luo Binghe's lip or inner cheek, leading to this grotesque, unwanted intimacy as the demon's twisted form of retribution.
Liu Qingge spat a mouthful of bloody saliva directly into Luo Binghe's face, only to be met with a stinging backhand that rocked his head to the side, his already abused body screaming in agony as he was restrained.
In the next instant, he found himself slammed against the unyielding metal door, Luo Binghe's body pinning him in place as the demon lord pressed against him with bruising force. Luo Binghe's hand seized a fistful of his hair, wrenching his head back to expose the line of his throat as the half-demon leaned in. Liu Qingge thrashed futilely, but he was no match for Luo Binghe's overwhelming strength in his current battered state.
Luo Binghe's lips crashed against his once more, all teeth and feral rage as the demon lord bit down hard on Liu Qingge's bottom lip, reopening the split and flooding his mouth with more warm copper. A reflexive growl tore itself from Liu Qingge's throat as he bared his teeth, but it was a hollow threat— he had never been in such a situation before, cornered and assaulted like a piece of meat by one stronger than himself. Save for Yue Qingyuan and his own Shifu, there had never been an opponent who could overpower him so utterly.
He felt dirty. Tainted. Violated in a way that turned his stomach and made his skin crawl with revulsion. This twisted, monstrous thing Luo Binghe had become filled him with disgust and shame that he, the vaunted peak lord of the righteous cultivation world, could be rendered so helpless.
"Ah, I wasn't expecting to see that..." a deep gravelly voice tutted, echoing from further down the corridor accompanied by mocking laughter.
The panicked desperation was again evident as Luo Binghe pulled back, eyes blazing like twin red suns as spittle flew from his bloodied lips. "Protect Shizun!" he snarled directly into Liu Qingge's face.
The next thing the Bai Zhan Peak Lord knew, he was being shoved forcefully through the doors and into a freezing cold chamber. He immediately heard Mu Qingfang's alarmed voice shouting his name, along with cruel cackles reverberating off the walls.
There was a demon ready, menacing and waiting in the chamber.
If the situation hadn't been so dire, Liu Qingge would never have done what he did next. But with Shen Qingqiu's body, Mu Qingfang’s and his own life on the line, fatigued and injured, his wounds contaminated by the miasmic corruption of Luo Binghe's cursed sword, he had been left with no choice.
The mysterious fiend attacked and Liu Qingge scrabbled to defend.
In the midst of the brutal clash, Liu Qingge's movements were hampered by his injuries, his grip on Cheng Luan slipping with each strike as blood seeped from a gash on his right bicep, mingling with the sweat on his palms. Desperately, his shoulder throbbed with pain, the joint dislocated from earlier forced him to shift his stance awkwardly, relying on his left hand to wield his sword.
The fire demon, towering and relentless, unleashed a barrage of scorching flames and heavy blows, driving Liu Qingge back with each ferocious attack. Sparks danced in the air as Cheng Luan clashed against the demon's fiery curved blade, the sound of steel against inferno echoing through the chamber.
With each passing moment, it became increasingly clear that he was on the losing end of this deadly encounter with the fire demon known as Zhuoyan of the Scalding Flames. He knew of the tribe from the West and their reputation was nothing short of brutal.
"I might as well decimate you in order to snatch that corpse the Halfbreed Emperor keeps but that would be a pity," the demon growled, lips peeling back in a contemptuous sneer as tongues of fire danced along his fingertips.
He prowled in a slow, predatory circle around Liu Qingge, the temperature in the chamber climbing with each ponderous footfall until sweat beaded on the his brow.
"This Lord intend to barter the dead body of the Qing Jing Peak Lord for possession of that wretched sword," the menace named Zhuoyan continued silkily. "If the exchange falls through..." He paused to eye Shen Qingqiu's unmoving form with darkly exaggerated consideration. "Well, I'll just cremate the corpse then. Do the halfbreed a favour and cure him of his unheralded obsession with the dead."
A bitter smile twisted Liu Qingge's split and bloodied lips. There was no way, absolutely no way that Luo Binghe would agree to surrender the Xin Mo sword— the source of his devastating power, the key to his ambitions— just for Shen Qingqiu's sake.
And yet... did any of them truly understand the depths of Luo Binghe's manic fixation? His all-consuming obsession with the dead Qing Jing Peak Lord?
"You have to go through me first," Liu Qingge declared through gritted teeth before spitting out a mouthful of blood onto the flagstones. Even as the words left his lips in an arrogant declaration, he knew it was an empty promise, a futile boast from a beaten dog doing little more than feebly baring its fangs. What use was his life to him now, after all?
The fire demon threw back his head and laughed, the sound rich and smoke-filled like the depths of a long-extinguished forge belatedly stoked to roaring life.
"You cannot beat me, immortal master," he chuckled, the amusement in his voice a thick, syrupy thing edged with thinly-veiled menace. "Give up. Hand me that corpse, and I will let you live." He flexed his fingers in an obscene pantomime, tongues of azure flame bursting into scintillating existence along his fingertips as he taunted Liu Qingge.
"Who knows?" Zhuoyan purred, voice dripping innuendo. "With that dead man out of your way, you'll have that pathetic whelp's undivided attention. This Lord has eyes— you've tried your best to defend its worthless husk— the imbecilic brat treats you badly yet he gave you an impossible command to fulfil. He knows who this Lord is so afraid not, certainly your dear Lord won't fault you." The demons lips curved in a lascivious smile that made Liu Qingge's skin crawl.
"I can even... get rid of that other one for you too, you see— no witnesses." He punctuated the statement by snapping his fingers in the direction of Mu Qingfang, a gout of white-hot energy erupting from his palm to dissipate against the vaulted stone ceiling in a shower of scorching embers.
Then the demon attacked again.
Desperation clawed at Liu Qingge's heart as he fought to defend himself against the relentless onslaught. And in a final, desperate gambit to protect Shen Qingqiu's lifeless body from being consumed by the flames, Liu Qingge made the ultimate sacrifice, offering himself as a hostage to the merciless fire-wielding beast.
Zhuoyan-jun seemed to be amused by Liu Qingge’s brazenness. “Interesting, go on— convince this Lord. Why?”
"A live captive will make a much better leverage compared to a corpse!" Liu Qingge bellowed, cradling his bloodied right arm which hung uselessly by his side, barely able to maintain his grip on his sword Cheng Luan as he circulated what pitiful dregs of qi remained to withstand the throbbing pain from his dislocated shoulder.
The demon lord threw back his head and laughed, a deep, manic sound that chilled Liu Qingge's blood. He was a fearsome sight— tanned skin stretched taut over sharply defined muscles, long crimson hair whipping about like tongues of flame, a sharp-boned face with high cheekbones and a strong jawline. His eyes, molten gold and slitted like a feline's, danced with sadistic glee.
Articles of exotic, finely woven cloth and supple leather clung to the demon's powerful physique, flaunting the sinewy ropes of muscle that corded his chest and limbs. He towered over even Luo Binghe's impressive stature. In his left hand, fire crackled and danced, condensing from a furious red to a deep, smouldering blue before coalescing into a pulsing sphere of scorching white heat.
Liu Qingge swallowed thickly, realising just how out of his depth he truly was against this ancient, elemental power. What was taking Luo Binghe so long? From the corner of his eye, he spotted Mu Qingfang sitting resolutely by Shen Qingqiu's unmoving form, steadily channelling restorative qi into the corpse as the temperature in the chamber climbed higher and higher.
The ambience should be kept cold to ensure Shen Qingqiu’s body remains intact, Liu Qingge could guess as much. Before, Mu Qingfang had been shocked upon seeing him, but relief had quickly flickered across the physician's face— relief that the daily clashes between Liu Qingge and Luo Binghe had not yet cost his martial brother’s life. Liu Qingge, too, was gratified to see the other man relatively unharmed. After all, Luo Binghe had taken Mu Qingfang hostage solely to aid in his deranged quest to revive Shen Qingqiu.
A cold smile curled the fire demon's lips as he extinguished the crackling fireball in his palm with a negligent wave. "A no longer alive peak lord, a foolishly valiant but barely alive peak lord, or that weak looking but live and healthy one— ah, so many choices. For a youngling, the brat has too many playthings."
The tall creature began stalking towards Liu Qingge with the sinuous grace of a great hunting cat, muscles rippling beneath tanned skin as crimson hair complemented his chiselled features like tendrils of flame. Liu Qingge lifted Cheng Luan with his left hand, the legendary sword's tip pointing squarely at the demon lord's heart.
The fire demon merely smirked, reaching out with almost casual arrogance to pinch the razor-sharp blade between his fingertips. Instantly, the metal grew scorching hot, the very tip taking on an ominous ruddy hue as it verged on melting from the demon's sheer heat.
"Drop your weapon, unless you wish to test how fast I could smelt it," he purred, voice a velvety cadence of dark promise.
A growl of frustration rumbled in Liu Qingge's throat, but he was cognizant enough of the demon's overwhelming power to obey, immediately lowering Cheng Luan and letting the priceless blade clatter to the floor.
"Just so you know, no one who pointed their weapon at this Lord lived," the fire demon said conversationally. "Be grateful that I find you… curious."
The fire demon lord darted with astonishing swiftness, his movements a whirlwind of speed that left Liu Qingge's diminished form struggling to keep up. In a flash, the demon lord shifted from looming before Liu Qingge to appearing behind him, seizing the peak lord's arms and twisting them with crushing strength.
White-hot agony lanced through Liu Qingge's dislocated shoulder, and he failed to hold back a guttural groan, tears of pain blurring his vision. Through the haze, he heard Mu Qingfang calling out to him frantically, but the words were indistinct over the roaring in his ears.
Despite being half-drowned in excruciation, his skin crawled with revulsion as the fire demon leaned in close, hot breath ghosting over the nape of his neck before a nose traced the line of his jugular in a mockery of intimacy. The demon's face was a hairsbreadth from his own, close enough for Liu Qingge to see the flecks of gold and crimson swirling in those inhuman, slitted eyes.
"Hmm— fascinating indeed," the demon lord rumbled. "You are marked by that filthy halfbreed. Interesting, interesting— no wonder you are assured of your worth as a hostage."
The redhead yanked Liu Qingge flush against his powerfully muscled body, a thick arm like an iron band encircling the peak lord's waist as he struggled in vain. If anything, the fire demon's grip only tightened further until Liu Qingge was practically immobilised, powerless to prevent the demon from burying his face in the juncture of neck and shoulder, nostrils flaring as he scented him like a beast.
"No wonder he kept you alive all this while— so pretty, so fierce," the demon lord murmured against Liu Qingge's skin, eliciting a full-body shudder of disgust and fury. "For a human, you are stronger than most."
"Why you—!" Liu Qingge snarled, thrashing impotently only to be hushed by a whisper of mocking laughter.
"I will accept your offer," the fire demon smiled, all gleaming fangs as fingers like branding irons caressed the line of Liu Qingge's jaw. "It is useless to steal that sword from the halfbreed anyway. It is best for him to surrender it himself. You, feisty immortal, should be adequate to convince him to do so."
Liu Qingge bared his teeth in a snarl, unable to fully suppress the tremor of mortal terror that swept through him at the prospect of what depraved tortures this sadistic monster might unleash. "Hah— that is an excuse to cover your shortcomings. You cannot defeat him yet, can you?"
"True, that sword is too powerful. He must willingly relinquish his ownership lest it’s meaningless," the fire demon agreed easily, deftly manoeuvring them so that Liu Qingge ended up facing the direction of Shen Qingqiu's body, Mu Qingfang alternating between casting fearful glances at the demon and staring imploringly at Liu Qingge.
"It seemed like my source was inaccurate," the demon continued in a contemplative murmur, his grip shifting as one hand splayed possessively over Liu Qingge's abdomen, holding him trapped against that brutally powerful frame. "The halfbreed's most precious treasure was said to be that corpse, but I believe I have found a better alternative. There appears to be another truth— you fight the halfbreed for your beloved's corpse."
His heart hammering in his chest, Liu Qingge forced himself to meet the demon's inhuman gaze steadily, thanking every deity that his gambits and lies had seemingly paid off. "He keeps the body to make sure I come," he half-lied through gritted teeth.
“Your dedication is legendary, Lord Liu Qingge. So the halfbreed has a twisted fascination for Cang Qiong cultivators.” The bait was taken. The fire demon laughed in delight, “You better not be lying, pretty War God.”
"Do not touch them," Liu Qingge growled, the words tasting like ash on his tongue as he fought to keep his features impassive, his emotions suppressed.
The fire demon knew exactly who he was, of course— one of the foremost cultivators in the realm, one of the strongest of the righteous sects. Yet Liu Qingge had managed to deceive the fiend, if only temporarily, by feigning the role of Shen Qingqiu's illicit lover, trading on the demon's preconceptions and assumptions. He was doing this for Shen Qingqiu, for Mu Qingfang— for his martial brothers whom he had sworn to protect with his life.
A bitter smile twisted Liu Qingge's lips as he considered the grim irony. He had been fighting Luo Binghe's madness for so long, sacrificing everything in a seemingly futile battle. What was one more sacrifice, if it meant preserving the lives of those few he held dear? His own life had been forfeit the moment he had taken up arms against the demon lord's darkness.
Resolve settled over him like a cloak as he met Mu Qingfang's anguished gaze, giving the physician the barest shake of his head. 'Stay there. Don't say anything. Let me handle this.'
There was a series of dull thuds, metal shrieking on metal as something— or someone— collided with the sealed doors over and over, each impact harder than the last until a sizable dent appeared.
"Regretfully— my seals can only hold that kid back for so long," the fire demon crooned, lips twisting into a cruel smirk. "Time is up!"
In a blur of motion too swift for Liu Qingge's battered form to react to, the demon lord was upon him, slashing a clawed hand through the air as complex glyphs blazed crimson. An agonising constriction seized Liu Qingge's limbs as invisible bonds snaked around his wrists and ankles, searing his flesh with sorcerous flames.
He bit back a scream as the fire demon hoisted him up with one thick, corded arm, Liu Qingge's feet leaving the ground as he was rendered utterly helpless by the demon's magic. Another sweeping gesture, and a torrent of white-hot spherical force erupted from the demon lord's palm, blasting a gaping hole straight through the reinforced metal doors.
Through the haze of pain, Liu Qingge caught a glimpse of Luo Binghe beyond, the half-demon's face a rictus mask of pure, unbridled rage, eyes burning like falling stars across the night skies. Then they were through the breach, and all he knew was the rush of blistering wind and dizzying motion as the fire demon fled with him as his captive prize.
The battle was like nothing Liu Qingge had ever experienced nor witnessed before— a maelstrom of preternatural power that shook the very foundations of the palace— a true battle between supernatural beings. He was little more than a useless sack of grain slung over the fire demon's shoulder as the two shattering forces clashed in a frenzy of blazing heat and rending darkness.
"Careful now," the demon lord purred mockingly as he danced away from a sweeping arc of Xin Mo's blade, the demonic sword cleaving through solid stone like rice paper. "Wouldn't want to accidentally harm your cherished person while he's in my care."
Luo Binghe snarled something incoherent, a sublimely bestial sound ripped from the depths of his very being. His hair had come undone, whipping wildly about his face like a mass of living shadow as he gathered his power.
With each thunderous impact of the Xin Mo sword against an inexorable wall of scorching flame, Liu Qingge felt himself jostled and jerked, white-hot agony lancing through his injured form with each jarring motion. Pillars toppled like snapped twigs, masonry reduced to smouldering rubble as the demon lords unleashed their devastating, apocalyptic might against one another.
"Release him!" Luo Binghe bellowed over the din, his voice nearly drowned out by the roar of an inferno rapidly devouring what little remained of the once-grand throne room.
Liu Qingge could scarcely believe his eyes— he had battled the half-demon lord countless times over the past three years, been on the receiving end of his fury, but never had he seen Luo Binghe's face so utterly contorted by rage. The sight sent a frisson of primal terror shivering down his spine.
The fire demon merely laughed, a deep, echoing peal of demented mirth as he evaded another deadly strike from the Xin Mo sword, gouts of crimson flame and coruscating shadow clashing in a blinding conflagration.
"Surrender your sword and I will!" The fire demon called out in a sing-song cadence, the words a honey-coated barb aimed directly at Luo Binghe's pride.
With a feral roar, Luo Binghe gathered the inky tendrils of his power around him, condensing them into a maelstrom of malevolence shot through with veins of bloody crimson light. The half-demon's lips moved, teeth bared in a snarl as he uttered the words to some forbidden enchantments.
Then Luo Binghe unleashed the gathered power in a tidal wave of obliterating force.
Liu Qingge heard the fire demon curse, felt the air around them heat to scorching intensity as the demon lord mustered his elemental defences. Then the dark tsunami was upon them, and the world dissolved into a coalescent of hurt and shadows.
Pathetically, mercifully, Liu Qingge's consciousness abandoned him, sparing him the brunt of the cataclysmic forces battering his frail human form.
Now in the present, with immense effort, Liu Qingge struggled to sit up on the filthy stone floor of his steel-barred cell. His once pristine white and grey-trimmed Bai Zhan robes were in tattered ruins, stained crimson with his own blood, dust and grime.
A dull, throbbing ache radiated from his injuries— the legacy of the vicious battle and his subsequent captivity. He could feel the slow heat of blood loss and festering wounds beginning to set in now that his qi had been sealed, his spiritual energy blocked. Soon, he knew with grim certainty, the fever would come, his untreated wounds turning septic in the absence of healing that can be expedited with cultivation.
Experimentally, he tried to move his dislocated right shoulder and was surprised to find it had been popped back into its proper socket, though the fiery anguish that lanced through the joint made him grit his teeth. He wondered darkly if his demonic captor had seen fit to tend to that particular injury.
His stomach turned queasily as he caught the first whiff of the air wafting in through the barred window high above— the acrid, sulphurous reek unmistakable. The skies visible through the narrow aperture burned a lurid, bruise-purple hue streaked with livid crimson.
He was in the demon realm. There could be no doubt.
Judging by the dull, incessant throb of his most severe wound— the long slash scored into the meat of his right bicep— he must have been unconscious for at least half a day after the ferocious battle with the fire demon and Luo Binghe.
The raspy creak of an iron door being forced open somewhere in the pitch-black depths of the dungeon had Liu Qingge's head whipping around, every battered muscle tensing. A brief lance of pallid light stabbed through the darkness, only to be abruptly cut off as the door clanged shut once more with a booming finality.
Then came the steady tread of unhurried footsteps drawing nearer, accompanied by a melodious whistling that would have been pleasant were it not for the morbid atmosphere of the dank, subterranean pit.
A silhouette gradually resolved itself out of the gloom, the whistling trailing off into silence as the mysterious figure halted before Liu Qingge's cell.
"Well, well," a deep, smoky baritone purred, coloured by an unmistakable edge of dark amusement. "Look who's finally awake from his beauty sleep."
"You—" Liu Qingge rasped, throat dry as the desert sands, as he recognised the hulking form of the fire demon who had been his captor.
The demon lord chuckled, the sound rumbling through the shadows like the distant peal of thunder. "Miss me already, my feisty little immortal? This Lord is touched, truly. Though hopefully you slept well— you're going to need your energy for the things I have planned."
A cruel smile flashed a glimpse of lengthening fangs in the half-light as the demon leaned closer to the bars, hands braced on either side of the cell door.
"That pitiful excuse for a halfbreed you call your… What was it? Ah yes, your 'lover’— well, he'll be here soon enough to surrender that wretched sword of his. And in the meantime..." The demon's tongue flicked out to trace his lower lip slowly. "You and I are going to have so much fun together."
"I rather die," Liu Qingge hissed, mustering every ounce of his faltering courage to meet the inhuman gaze levelly.