"Grant me the power to rise!!!"
Qiren yelled, his voice thick with boundless greed.
His soul was never satisfied with what he held in this world—unless he stood at its absolute apex.
The wind rose.
Rain began to drizzle, falling from a tribulation-laden sky.
Workers in yellow vests looked up in confusion as the weather turned violent within seconds. The storm had come too fast.
Their supervisors shouted for them to gather and wait it out—
"Hehehe."
The laugh made them freeze.
They turned just as an imp lifted its rifle and opened fire.
The scrapyard assault began.
Imps moved through the rain, gunshots cracking as they fired at the first things they saw.
Workers.
Sorters.
Vehicle operators.
No one was safe from their barrels.
Qiren stood beside the ritual circle, watching as the rain was defied, unable to touch him.
KA-BOOOOM!!
Lightning tore down from the sky, striking directly above the ritual site—colliding with the invisible dome that repelled it.
KAA-BOOOOM!
A second strike slammed into the same spot, intent on shattering the barrier.
Again!?
The ox gritted her teeth.
I'm going to be sacrificed by these humans again. How dare they? First they took my life to cure their illness—now they come to exorcise me.
"Despicable," she snarled.
"You humans… are all… despicable. Fine—kill me. Kill me if that is what pleases you. But know this: the hatred I bear for your kind will never die. This is not the first time you have exorcised me, nor will it be the last."
As she spoke, Qiren's figure was replaced by three other ancient shamans, each performing their own rites to banish her raging spirit.
"I have no doubt that's true," a voice replied calmly.
"But… I think you have one thing wrong."
The illusion faded.
"I am no human. Nor do I wish to destroy you."
Qiren stared at her.
"I am the antithesis of humanity—a demonic wraith known as Qiren Lin."
He paused as a scroll formed above her: a golden frame, white paper, its edges gleaming faintly.
"Your new master."
Miasma surged, filling the confines of the barrier.
FLASH—KRRRA—BOOOOM!!!!!
Hundreds of millions of volts descended simultaneously in four converging streams of lightning.
Murmurs.
Voices flooded his mind before the lightning struck, urging him to stop the storm.
And so he did.
From across the city's central park, demonic Qi surged down a spiritual chain—twisting through streets and woods, curling around a burnt-down warehouse.
Past police and firefighters.
Back through the forest.
And there—
Where Qiren stood.
The chain glowed red as it wrapped around his ribcage, hellish Qi flowing through it endlessly.
This was the Abyss's blessing—meant to prevent the world itself from interfering with the ritual.
Qiren smirked and formed a deck of cards in his hand.
He closed his eyes, envisioned his dantians, and pressed those memories into the cards—then flooded them with demonic Qi.
"Bronze Body Incineration!"
He flung the cards outward.
Yin-yang fire talismans ignited, circling in pure crimson light. They formed a Chinese cauldron around the cards, drawing them inside.
Orange flames flared beneath as thunder struck the rim.
He halted the lightning.
Rain poured into the cauldron, filling it as the cards floated within. Their frames burned and cracked, releasing spiritual intent—unable to contain the solid memories sealed inside.
They shone, dissolving into the water.
Fifty-two hollow orbs emerged, floating gently. Some were filled with red liquid—some full, others only half.
Rumbling.
KA-BOOOOM.
Thunder struck once more—
and was stopped by the cauldron.
Rain continued to pour.
Not around the cauldron.
Into it.
Water fell straight through the air, striking the interior and splashing violently as the fifty-two hollow orbs bobbed and rolled within. Steam hissed as heat and rain collided, the surface churning with boiling waves.
Qiren lifted his hand.
Metal screamed into existence.
A lid formed above the cauldron—thick, circular, etched with interlocking patterns. It slammed down with a resonant CLANG, sealing the contents inside.
The talismans flared brighter.
Orange deepened to white.
"Bake," Qiren murmured.
Lightning answered.
KRRRA—BOOOOM!!
A bolt crashed down, striking the cauldron directly. The construct rang like a struck bell, the sound rolling outward in waves. Inside, the dantians rattled violently, slamming against one another as heat and pressure mounted.
Another strike.
KAA—BOOOOM!!
Cracks spiderwebbed along the cauldron's surface, hairline fractures glowing faintly red before sealing shut again as demonic Qi surged to reinforce them.
Qiren frowned.
Again.
The sky split.
Four bolts descended at once, hammering the lid, the sides, and the base—each impact driving the cauldron deeper into the earth.
Inside, the water boiled.
The orbs spun wildly, colliding, merging briefly, then tearing apart as memories burned and reformed. Some darkened. Others brightened. A few began to pulse, unstable.
The lid buckled.
A sharp ping echoed through the ritual space.
A crack formed along the rim.
Qiren's eyes narrowed.
"So the world insists," he muttered.
Lightning struck again.
KRRRA—BOOOOM!!!
The cauldron screamed.
Cracks flared—then shattered like glass. The lid warped inward, caves forming where patterns once held firm. The talismans flickered, their flames sputtering under the strain.
Another bolt—
CRACK.
The side of the cauldron split open.
Water, steam, and light erupted outward as the structure failed.
With a final, deafening BOOOOOM, the cauldron exploded.
The dantians were thrown free.
Fifty-two glowing orbs blasted outward in every direction—some rocketing into the sky, others slamming into the ground, a few vanishing entirely as they shattered into imperfections.
One struck a rusted crane and embedded itself deep within the metal.
Another dissolved midair, leaking red light before fading.
Several skipped across the earth like stones on water.
Random.
Uncontrolled.
Irretrievable.
Steam rolled across the ritual site as fragments of the cauldron dissolved into mist.
Qiren stood unmoved at the center.
"Tch."
The storm hesitated.
Then—
Silence.
The barrier surrounding the ritual circle shuddered.
The invisible dome rippled once… twice… then peeled open like a curtain being drawn aside.
Rain rushed in.
Wind followed.
The oppressive pressure lifted, revealing the center of the site at last.
The ox lay motionless within the circle.
Her massive form had collapsed onto her side, golden blood dried and darkened along her hide. Her chest rose faintly—slow, shallow breaths confirming she still lived.
Unconscious.
Above her, the scroll floated.
Rolled tightly now.
Its golden frame dimmed, the white paper no longer blazing—only faintly warm, as if cooling after a long burn.
The ritual was complete.
The storm began to recede, clouds tearing apart overhead as distant thunder rolled away.
Qiren lowered his hand.
Rain soaked his sleeves.
Mud returned to the world.
Somewhere far off, gunfire echoed faintly—then died.
He stepped forward, boots splashing as he crossed the boundary that no longer resisted him.
The ox did not stir.
The scroll drifted lower, hovering just above her horn.
Waiting.
Qiren walked toward it, feeling the abyssal Qi dissipate as its tribute was claimed.
"Hm?" he hummed.
Around the ox, the scattered cores began to stir—slowly drifting closer with each shallow breath of her unconscious body. The dantians glowed with a soft, earthy green light.
Pulsing in rhythm with the soil.
Grass pushed through cracked earth. Dandelions bloomed. Saplings sprouted, their roots coiling around the cores as if drawn to them.
"Nature affinity?" Qiren murmured.
He walked past another core.
The green light dimmed.
Plants withered instantly—leaves blackening, stems collapsing into ash—as a darker hue flooded the orb.
Qiren exuded his spiritual intent.
The pressure crushed down on the newly formed dantians, overwhelming them completely.
"No… not affinity," he corrected softly.
"Resonance. That's the better word."
Five of the refined spheres levitated.
Maintaining the link he created, they swirled to his side.
What is this? It feels like I'm being submerged in water, he thought, watching the orbiting dantians form an invisible force field.
It's refreshing my Qi and spiritual intent.
Interesting. I can mold the energy in this field and replenish myself from it, Qiren realized, compacting the invisible force field and forming an imitation body over his bones.
Testing his control, he attempted more complex structures—twisting the strange energy into a snake that wrapped around his arm, then shaping part of it into a monarch butterfly.
Centipedes… mantises, horned beetles, and hornets appeared within the field.
I have the same fluidity here as I do with my normal illusions.
He stopped creating creatures from the translucent bubble around him.
But it seems I can't change its color…
He formed a butterfly beneath the field in vibrant hues.
Then unraveled his ethereal creations, allowing the bubble to expand back into a wide, shapeless mass.
His eyes locked onto the ox beside him—her body bound by scissor blades and blood-draining serpents.
The scroll remained tightly bound.
He stared at it.
Bone fingers closed around the parchment.
Swish.
He unfurled it.
A calligraphy painting filled the surface—an ox, massive and regal, depicted lying in the exact position she now occupied. Peaceful. Unaware.
Qiren felt the connection snap into place the moment his eyes traced the ink.
Understanding flooded him.
A slave contract.
Not a pact.
Not a bargain.
This scroll bound the spirit ox to him entirely—against her will. It stripped away freedom, resistance, even hatred itself.
This was nothing like his arrangement with Missy.
Nothing like the imps.
This contract erased the possibility of choice entirely.
Qiren looked down at the ox's still form.
"It seems I've gained a new pet," he murmured.
"Don't worry. I'm a lenient owner."
He rolled the scroll closed and tied it shut.
He clenched it, feeling its aura pulse faintly in his grip.
The transfer sync was complete.
A tremor passed through Qiren's skeletal frame.
Bone creaked.
Then flesh began to grow.
Starting at his fingertips, a warm brown tone spread across his arms, coating bare bone in newly formed skin. Muscle followed in rippling strands, weaving themselves into existence as if sculpted by unseen hands.
Veins darkened beneath the surface, carrying a slow, earthen glow that pulsed in rhythm with the sealed contract.
Lines of ink surfaced next.
Native markings etched themselves across his skin—spiraling patterns and jagged symbols wrapping around his forearms and shoulders like living scripture.
They shimmered faintly, as though branded by ancestral memory rather than drawn by mortal hands.
Qiren inhaled sharply.
Pressure gathered at his temples.
A dull crack echoed from his skull.
Two protrusions forced their way outward—bone pushing through flesh before hardening into curved bull horns. They grew steadily, spiraling back along the sides of his head—smooth, heavy, and unmistakably regal.
A low rumble vibrated in his chest.
Behind him, his spine elongated.
Vertebrae stretched one after another until a tail burst free from the base of his back—dark and sinewy. It lashed once, scattering droplets of rain, before settling into a slow, controlled sway.
The transformation ended as abruptly as it began.
Qiren stood in silence, rain sliding over newly formed skin.
The ox's chest stilled.
Her breath stopped.
Her body began to distort—flesh hardening as refracted light crawled across its surface, crystallizing into diamond. Golden scissors remained embedded within her form, serpents frozen mid-coil along her limbs.
A perfect statue.
Immovable.
Eternal.
This was what it meant to truly lose one's freedom.