2 Intermission One
In a secluded hut, nestled deep within the ancient mountains, an old man could be seen seated in a meditative position, his aura shrouded in darkness. Cloaked in a plain gray silk robe, he appeared like a wraith lurking in the shadows. His long gray beard cascaded down to his lower neck, resembling the wisps of a waning moon, while his mustache arched over his lip, sharp as the fangs of a venomous serpent. Above his piercing gaze, his eyebrows furrowed in a perpetual frown, revealing the depths of his malevolence. Beads of sweat glistened on his temple, bearing witness to the sinister energy surging within him.
Beside him, upon a worn and weathered wooden stand, lay a double-edged sword, ancient and rusted, yet exuding an eerie brilliance that could rend even the fabric of time itself. However, in this moment, the sword trembled with an unsettling intensity, as if on the verge of shattering into a thousand fragments. And then, with a jarring crack, a tiny rift appeared at the very tip of the blade, releasing a faint whisper of impending doom. The old man convulsed, coughing up a mouthful of crimson blood, his complexion turning pallid within seconds, a testament to the immense toll of his wicked practices.
As if the intrusion of an unwelcome guest, the door to the hut swung open, revealing another elderly figure. Bald as a polished stone, devoid of any facial hair, including the absence of eyebrows, this bald Elder donned a plain white silk robe. Clutched firmly in his left hand was a one-sided sword, its radiance matching that of the cracked blade. "Old Heartless," he sneered, his voice laced with disdain, "never did I imagine witnessing the day when your withered heart would pulsate with such uncontrollable fervor."
Undeterred by the mocking words of the bald Elder, Heartless's lips curled into a twisted grin. "Old Merciless, it seems you have an abundance of idle time on your hands. Perhaps you should confine yourself to your pitiful abode, where you can revel in the torment of your so-called demons?"
"Ah, how I yearn for the delightful symphony of their agonized screams as my sword rends their flesh, piece by excruciating piece," Merciless mused, a fleeting glimpse of euphoria illuminating his face. Yet, the spark quickly faded as he realized his morbid amusement had reached its conclusion. Crestfallen, he continued, "Alas, none of them possessed the fortitude to survive the ordeal, their souls eternally scarred by the caress of my beloved blade. My insatiable baby yearns for more demons, for them to acknowledge the futility of their existence, to surrender their very essence and revel in the twisted thrill of 'rebirth.'"
Heartless rose from his meditative stance, his gaze unwavering. "Your pursuits hold no interest for me," he declared, his voice dripping with apathy. "I have pressing matters to attend to. Close the door upon your departure." With a swift motion, he grasped his sword, his departure from the hut akin to a gust of wicked wind. Thoughts of Yue'er, a torment to his cold heart for all eternity, plagued his mind. "Must you haunt my soul, Yue'er?" he pondered. "No, my actions were justified. You deceived me, lost your virtuous yin, and engaged in promiscuity. Just like your mother, a harlot begets a harlot. Begone, foul-hearted demon, for I shall cleave you asunder, just as I did in the days of old."
Gradually, the chaotic energy within Heartless began to subside, resembling the calm embrace of an ocean after a tempestuous storm. "I am Heartless, my heart a void, free from the shackles of mortal sentiment. These earthly ties hold no sway over me. I shall ascend to the Divine Realm and prove that my choice to cast you aside was the righteous path and that you were but one of the myriad tribulations on my immortal journey."
