Murim Warrior In Genshin

My name is Bai-heng, and I'm a member of the demonic sect.

"SWING YOUR SWORD HARDER AND FASTER, DONT LET YOUR FOOTWORK FALTER! RAVAGE YOUR ENEMY IN THE NAME OF THE DEMONIC SECT! WE SHALL BECOME VICTORUS THROUGH THIS WAR!"

The voice of our battalion comannder bellows, leading me and my fellow sect members charging towards our enemies, the alliance.

When did this all start? How did I end up fighting in a war that I had no care for?

I was born into the demonic sect, my father being a prominent general and my mother being a girl from a far away village that he 'claimed' as a spoil of war. Up until my mother's death, she did her best to teach me the righteous path, and prevented me from falling into darkness.

I loved her, and she loved me, unlike my father. All he saw in me was another fodder to throw at the alliance in their longstanding war. He didn't care for my mother either, given how he cut all ties with her. I hated him.

My mother passed away from an illness that caused her to cough up blood, and be unable to breathe. No matter how many of the sect physicians I took her to, they were unable to cure her. I was there the entire time, and was helpless and unable to help her through her suffering. When she passed, she passed with a smile on her face, as if she was glad to be rid of her sickly body. That day, I vowed to be strong enough to never have a loved one lost again, but what was the point of that vow when there was nobody close to me?

I delved into training. I honed the demonic art, and sought the training of my father, a man that I hated. He saw me as a worthy Disciple, and passed down his technique the blood ravaging sword art. It was one that required me to spill blood to gain increased power, something that he took as an opportunity to send me onto the front lines.

"Return stronger, or don't return at all."

Those were his words to me.

As we grew closer to the alliance, with our comander lead the the charge, we reached the climax of the battle.

The clashing of swords created sparks, and blades carved through flesh and bone like porridge. I lifted my blade, and buried it into the side of my opponent. He let out a scream of pain, and fell to the ground as I removed my blade from his side.

I could feel myself growing stronger the more I killed. The feeling of growing stronger was something euphoric to me, that's why I devoted my life and entire being in pursuit of power.

A man rushed toward me with fury etched into his face. It seemed that the man I cut down was his comrade, but bonds matter not on the battlefield. Our swords clashed, and steel met steel.

"You demonic sect bastard! How dare you strike down my brother! Even if I fall here, my brothers and sisters will seek retribution for me!"

"Shouldn't you be focusing on the battle instead of running your mouth? Only the strong have the luxury to talk on the battlefield."

I kicked him in the stomach, sending him flying back. I'll show him that the weak have no say in how they die.

"You see? There you lay on the ground, watching your comrades die around you. What hope do you have in continuing to fight. Give up now, and I'll give you a painless death."

A feeling of cold fills my stomach. And a flaring pain after. I look behind me and see another alliance member has ambushed me.

"You fool! Have you forgotten that this is a war, and not a 1 on 1 battle? You say that the strong decide the fate of the weak, but here you are with a sword in your stomach. Are you sure you aren't the weak one here?!"

I grit my teeth until the point they nearly crack. I can't be weak, after all I've gone through? I won't let it end like this!

I unleash all my qi, and pull the sword from my stomach. I force my qi to stop the bleeding, leaving me in a condition to fight once more. I take the same blade that was in my stomach, and insert it into the skull of the man who stabbed me.

"You're right, I was complacent. This won't happen again."

I utter these words to the alliance member before me, the slaughter him. I take my time to make it long and painful, cutting off his limbs first, then slitting his throat and leaving him to drown in his own blood. I feel a power well up inside me. It seems that the blood ravaging sword art strengthens more based on how much blood my sword spills.

I rush through the battlefield, cutting down every ally member I see. The blood of the precious fuels me to take the blood of the next. 20 men have fallen by my blade, and I am 3 times stronger than when I first entered this battle.

I encounter another sect member, and swoop in to behead him, but he blocks my blade

*clang*

I stop for a second, and jump back to assess my opponent. He is an elder, with a long flowing beard and a pony tail. My eyes widen, and my heart fills with dread as I realize that the man standing before me must be a martial Master.

Our gazes meet, and he blitzes toward me with a blinding speed. I attempt to counter attack, but am met with a blade in my shoulder.

A golden gold emanates from his palm, and strikes my heart.

I feel myself become lighter, then look down and see my body laying on the ground.

"Am I a spirit?! What has happened to my body?!"

I am unable to utter any more words, as I feel a sensation pulling my very being. I succumb, and lose consciousness.