Descension (BL Xianxia Fantasy Romance) BOOK 3

LUO FAN

"Your Highness, forgive me."

The man's voice reached me like a distant echo, faint and blurred, as if carried by a wind I could no longer feel. I wasn't even sure it was real. My body was numb, racked with pain so deep that it felt like it belonged to someone else. I was too weak to move, too close to death to even open my eyes.

I knew it was only a matter of time. The moment I fell asleep, I might never wake again.

"We must part ways from here," the voice continued, trembling with regret. "I'll lure the men away from you. May fate guide you… I hope we'll meet again. Farewell."

And then, silence.

I didn't know what was happening anymore. My memories were fragmented, fleeting like petals scattered in the wind. A group of men had been hunting me, their swords thirsty for my blood. I remembered someone saving me—a stranger—but now, even that protection was gone.

Once again, I was alone. Helpless.

But what did it matter? I had already lost everything. My strength, my pride, my very purpose—all of it had been stripped away. Fighting was no longer an option. Survival no longer a desire.

It was over.

I drew in a deep, shuddering breath, expecting it to be my last. My mind drifted further into darkness, and yet, I felt the faintest motion beneath me. The hard surface of wood pressed against my back—it shifted, creaked.

A wagon. I was being carried away.

Where to?

It didn't matter. I would be dead soon, and wherever my corpse ended up would be of no consequence.

So long as they buried me, I would be content.

********************************************

RUAN YANJUN

I glared at my disciple, my voice cold as ice. "Are you telling me Wei Yusheng is dead?"

Huang Wen nodded, his face taut with worry. He had been my disciple for over a decade—since I brought him into my sect at the tender age of twelve. By now, he knew me better than anyone else and understood the consequences of displeasing me.

I let the silence stretch between us, allowing him to squirm under my gaze as I sipped my wine. Anger flared within me, but I softened my scowl. After five years in seclusion, my disciple had greeted me with joy upon my return. There was no need to spoil his mood... yet.

"When did this happen?" I asked, finally breaking the tension.

"A month ago, Master."

I turned away from him, walking toward the door of my private courtyard. The humid air carried the sharp tang of the lingering rainy season. The wind whipped through the trees, unsettling the leaves of the large plum tree that stood at the courtyard's center.

The sight of it gave me pause.

It felt like only yesterday that the sapling barely reached five feet tall. Now, it towered well over twice that height, its branches spread wide and heavy. Time had slipped past me unnoticed during my five-year seclusion, a period spent wrestling with the erratic surges of my demonic core.

When I closed myself off from the world, I had thought Wei Yusheng would ascend to grandmaster by the time I emerged. I had even planned to approach him again with my… proposal. And if he still refused, I would have taken matters into my own hands.

Who could stop me?

But now, this turn of events. Unexpected. Suspicious.

"How could a Level Six master cultivator die of poison?" I muttered, more to myself than to Huang Wen. "Wei Yusheng was the sect leader of Ethereal Frost—renowned for their detoxifying elixirs and pills."

It didn't add up. Two years ago, a new Divine Mage had been proclaimed, also from Frost Mountain, someone who would have undoubtedly been capable of identifying any poison. How could Wei Yusheng, a man so steeped in the art of healing, fall victim to such a method?

"What's the name of the disciple who poisoned him?" I asked, my voice low.

"The disciple's name is Wei Fan," Huang Wen replied.

"Are they related?"

"Not exactly. Wei Yusheng took the boy in as an orphan and gave him his surname."

I frowned, perplexed. A disciple from one of the continent's most righteous sects—committing such a heinous act? It was unheard of. Even among the dark sects, disciples rarely turned against their masters. Loyalty to the hand that fed and trained them was a universal law.

Curious.

I took another sip of wine, letting the bitterness roll over my tongue.

Huang Wen continued, as though sensing my interest. "He isn't just an ordinary disciple, Master. Wei Fan was also the High Priest of Frost Mountain Tower. The healing elixirs he refined in recent years gained widespread acclaim for curing diseases that no one else could. That's why they named him the Divine Mage."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself.

"And his martial talent?"

"It's said to be exceptional. Rumor has it that he surpassed his master's cultivation level just months before the poisoning."

I turned back to my disciple, staring at him with renewed focus. This was no ordinary piece of information. This so-called Divine Mage, this Wei Fan… his story had just taken a very interesting turn.

"He's a Level Seven," I stated flatly. It wasn't a question—it was the only conclusion that made sense. Wei Yusheng had been a Level Six cultivator, a master—a title signifying one's eligibility to take disciples and even establish a sect. If this disciple had surpassed Wei Yusheng, then he must have reached Level Seven: grandmaster. The pinnacle for most cultivators.

Huang Wen nodded hesitantly. "That is the rumor, Master. But it has yet to be confirmed."

"Did you go to Frost Mountain to confirm it?"

"I did, Master. Before the poisoning incident, I joined a hundred others who traveled there for the same purpose. But the Divine Mage refused to appear. Many suspected the claim was fabricated to elevate the Ethereal Frost Sect's status. Their rival, the Blazing Sun Sect, recently produced a grandmaster, while the Ethereal Frost Sect had only Master Wei and the Divine Mage to represent them."

It was suspicious, but I didn't care for the political games of light sects. I had been scouring this wretched continent for a worthy light-core grandmaster for too long to let this lead slip away. Rumor or not, I would take my chances.

"Where is that priest now?" I demanded.

Huang Wen faltered, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.

I narrowed my eyes at him, my patience thinning. "Are you going to answer me, or shall I rip it out of your tongue?"

He snapped his mouth shut and cleared his throat nervously. "Master, Wei Fan has been banished from the Kan Empire. No one knows where he is now… or if he's even alive."

"Where did they dump him? I'll find him myself."

"M-Master, there's… another matter," Huang Wen stammered, hesitating.

"Speak," I ordered sharply. "And stop wasting my time."

"As punishment for his crime… Wei Fan's cultivation has been nullified."

I turned to glare at my disciple, my jaw tightening as fury boiled within me. I could already see myself tearing Frost Mountain apart, crushing that sanctimonious sect for destroying my only hope.

But I forced myself to take a deep breath. Reckless anger would serve me no purpose. Instead, I drained the rest of my wine in one gulp, allowing its bitterness to ground me.

I had heard of rare cases where cultivators regained their martial arts after nullification. It required painstaking effort, resources, and time—but it was possible.

And as long as that priest still drew breath, there was hope.

Desperation clawed at me, but desperation was a familiar companion. I would gamble everything for this slim chance.

"Tell me everything you know about this Wei Fan," I commanded. "Who nullified his cultivation, who investigated him, who sentenced him, and who ordered his banishment."

Huang Wen hesitated before asking timidly, "M-Master, may I ask one question?"

"You may. One question only. Be quick."

"There are several other light-core grandmasters across the continent, especially in the East. Why go to such lengths to find a missing priest when any grandmaster with a light core would suffice?"

I smirked, a cold curl of my lips. "I've reviewed every light-core grandmaster on the continent and found them all unworthy. So, I began searching among the masters instead. Only Wei Yusheng met my requirements. Now that he's dead, his so-called ungrateful disciple is my next candidate."

"But how can you be certain Wei Fan qualifies?"

I glared at him, silencing him with a single look. "I granted you one question, and one question only. Do not test my generosity."

Huang Wen immediately bowed his head. "Forgive me, Master."

"Now," I said, my tone colder than before. "Give me the information I asked for."

"Yes, Master," he replied hastily, retreating to fetch what I demanded.