Sutra of Flame and Flesh
The air above the black lotus field pulsed with aftershocks of qi, thick enough to taste.
Haaron sat cross-legged in the middle of the ruin they had created—bare, blood-streaked, and reborn in more ways than one. Where the ritual had climaxed, the lotus petals were scorched black. The roots beneath had cracked open from spiritual overload. But Haaron wasn't burned.
He was glowing.
Fine silver runes shimmered faintly beneath the skin of his arms, like spirit ink etched into his very flesh. His body felt… awake. Not just strengthened, but wired into something greater—an ancient rhythm, a secret system of energy and lust that stretched beyond his understanding.
But he understood this much: the Primordial Yin-Yang Sutra had accepted him.
The knowledge was buried in his mind, waiting to be decoded. Techniques. Positions. Circulation methods designed to harvest spiritual and emotional resonance during dual cultivation. Not only did it grant cultivation speed—it took comprehension, bloodline insights, and even Dao fragments through intimacy.
The woman across from him—Lian Rou—had given more than her body.
She had given him her flavor of illusion, charm, and control.
Even now, she lay on her side near a cracked lotus tree, her limbs tangled in her half-torn robe, her breath shaky, and her tails twitching. Her aura, once sharp and proud, now curled inward like a fox rolling over for warmth. She hadn't spoken since the ritual ended.
He opened his eyes slowly, letting the energy settle in waves.
"Your body stabilized," she murmured finally. "Your qi has no more turbulence. You absorbed mine… all of it."
He glanced at her. "You offered it."
"I didn't expect to survive," she said with a soft, bitter laugh. "Most men who try to claim me either burn out or break down screaming."
"I'm not most men."
"No," she agreed. "You're something worse."
She pushed herself up on shaky arms, one tail wrapping around her waist like a lazy belt. Her eyes met his with reluctant respect—and just enough wariness to amuse him.
"You're still inside me," she whispered.
His expression didn't change. "Physically?"
"No. Spiritually." She placed a hand over her navel. "You burned a sigil into my sea of consciousness. I feel your presence there. Quiet, but alive."
He nodded. "The Sutra binds. It's not temporary. You're part of the array now."
"What array?"
"My domain." Haaron stood, stretching slowly. "Every woman I cultivate with feeds into it. You're the first. A living furnace node."
She stared at him like he was mad.
He returned the look calmly.
"Do you want me to fight you for my soul back?" she asked.
"You'd lose," he said simply.
Lian Rou grinned, though her body still trembled. "Arrogant. You've had power for half a day and already think you're building an empire."
"I don't think," Haaron said. "I decide."
She watched him for a long moment, then exhaled.
"Fine. You marked me. I won't resist it—yet. But if I feel my will slipping, I'll burn us both."
"Do that," he said, "and I'll make you beg in your next life too."
She rolled her eyes but didn't argue.
They sat in silence for a while longer, the qi still thick between them, though calmer. Haaron traced a rune into the dirt with his fingertip, testing the new flow of spiritual sensitivity. He could feel the hum of life in the soil, the pulse of qi streams under the earth. Everything was louder now. Sharper.
"Tell me about the outside," he said.
She looked at him from the corner of her eye. "You really don't know."
"I was sacrificed in the Forest of Silence. That was centuries ago."
"Try millennia."
He didn't react, but his heart pulsed harder.
"The sects you knew are dust. The divine clans crumbled. There's no Xian bloodline anymore—at least, not under that name."
"So Bellard built nothing."
"Whoever Bellard is," she said, "he's long dead. No one remembers you."
"Good." Haaron smirked. "It'll be more satisfying when they do."
She stood, wobbling slightly before steadying herself. "The world runs on a new system now. Cultivation is still tiered, but refined. More focused on internal Dao than bloodline supremacy. The major regions are split into three levels—Outer Realms, Heaven-Bound Sects, and the Celestial Halls. Travel between them is restricted unless you pass spirit gate trials or serve under ancient contracts."
"Where are we?"
"The boundary. A fractured zone. Wild. Lawless. Dangerous."
"Perfect."
She watched him as he moved past her, each step stronger than the last, qi swirling around his limbs like wind responding to a silent command.
"There's a gate east of here," she said. "Half a day's walk. An old teleportation array—unstable, but usable. It'll drop us near the Cloudroot Expanse, where the minor sects harvest spiritual herbs."
"Good," Haaron said. "I need supplies. And cultivation partners."
She gave him a look.
"I didn't mean you," he added dryly.
"Mm," she hummed, amused. "You already branded me. Doesn't matter what you meant."
That Night — Ridge Below the Field
A fire crackled near the foot of a rocky hill, its flames fed by dried lotus bark and spirit-infused roots. Haaron sat shirtless beside it, a carved bone needle in his hand, etching spiritual runes into a pale talisman. Blood ink glowed on the tip—his blood.
He was creating a Soul Binding Charm.
The Heaven-Devourer Manual had whispered it to him the moment his Sutra awakened. A method to solidify the bond with cultivators who resisted full submission. One more ritual, one more climax, and the charm could make the next woman part of his living domain—voluntarily or not.
Lian Rou lay nearby on a patch of grass, resting with one leg bent, eyes half-closed. "You never stop," she said.
"There's no time to waste."
"You already got stronger. Can't you enjoy it?"
"This is me enjoying it.
She smirked lazily. "You're terrifying."
"I know."
He didn't look up. "Once we reach the Cloudroot region, I'll need clothes, pills, and access to an updated cultivation map."
"You planning to hit a sect right away?"
"If one has a library or a saintess worth seducing, yes."
She rolled to her side, head propped on her arm. "You're serious."
"I need information. Resources. Women."
She narrowed her eyes. "So I'm just the start."
"You're lucky you were first," he said. "I didn't have the tools ready yet."
"And when you do?"
"I'll use them."
Elsewhere — A Palace of Pure Ice
Far to the north, under a silver moon and a frost-covered sky, a palace of silence trembled. A woman knelt alone in a garden of crystal flowers, her white robe fluttering despite the stillness. Her breath froze in the air, but her body shivered not from cold—but from something else.
Saintess Yue Shilan opened her eyes, and her lips parted.
Someone… had touched the fabric of her Dao.
Far away, a seed of lust and fire had been planted, and the waves of it reached her spirit.
She didn't know his name.
But soon, she would.