Reverend Insanity - Fate Devourer

Chi Cheng's group pressed deeper into the forest, their unease slowly dissipating after the blinding flash of light. It lingered in their minds like an unspoken warning, but they pushed forward, brushing aside their discomfort as the dense foliage swallowed them whole. The canopy above grew thicker, casting long, wavering shadows that seemed to move with the breeze.

Then the shadows came alive.

The first wolf appeared as a blur, leaping from the underbrush with jaws wide and fangs glinting in the fading sunlight. Its fur was the color of ash, mottled with streaks of black, as though it had crawled straight from a forest fire. Another followed, then another, until a dozen of them encircled the group, their eyes glowing a feral yellow. Low growls reverberated through the trees.

Chi Cheng barely registered the sound before a claw swiped at his chest. He stumbled back, heart hammering, the jagged tips missing his throat by mere inches. 

"Defend yourselves!" Chi Cheng barked, his voice shaky. He reached for his Gu worm, activating its essence, but his movements were clumsy, panicked. 

His thoughts raced as he narrowly avoided another attack. 

'Why is no one helping us?'

His head whipped around, eyes scanning the trees for any sign of assistance. His uncle had assured him that Rank 2 Gu Masters would be watching. They had to be here, didn't they? It was impossible for such a carefully planned trial to descend into chaos without intervention.

But the trees remained silent. The shadows offered no solace, only the glowing eyes of predators.

 'Where the hell are they?!'

Another wolf lunged. Chi Cheng's hand shot up, barely managing to form a defense as desperation gripped his chest. His vision blurred, but not from tears – it was fear.

A wolf lunged straight for his throat, its maw wide and fangs glinting like ivory daggers. Chi Cheng slashed upward, a crescent of pale light carving through the air. The wolf's leap ended mid-arc, its body collapsing into a heap of blood and fur. 

But no triumph came with the kill. Another wolf replaced it, then another, their growls echoing in a relentless rhythm.

"Stay together!" he shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of his own terror. Beside him, a companion swung wildly with a flaming Gu, fire arcing like a whip and momentarily keeping the wolves at bay. The stench of singed fur filled the clearing, but it didn't stop the pack. 

His breath came in ragged gasps as he struck down another wolf, the crescent moon slash bisecting its flank. The creature yelped and fell, but before its body hit the ground, two more surged forward. 

The numbers weighed on them. The group of five Gu Masters—each one at the middle stage of Rank 1—stood shoulder-to-shoulder, fighting as one. But the wolves were over twenty strong.

 His arm ached with each swing, his slashes less precise, his primeval essence dwindling. 

He could feel the drain deep in his core, the telltale signs of a near-empty primeval sea. He wasn't a true B-grade talent, after all.

'No... not now!' The cold reality of his limits hit him like a physical blow. His Gu worm's glow dimmed, the Moonlight Crescent faltering before sputtering back to life. A wolf capitalized on the hesitation, its claws raking across his shoulder. The pain was searing, almost numbing, as blood soaked his robes. 

"Run!" one of his companions cried. It wasn't a suggestion—it was a plea. 

They broke formation, retreating into the trees, their breaths heavy and wild with panic. Chi Cheng's boots pounded against the forest floor, the roots and underbrush threatening to trip him with every step. 

And then it happened. 

His foot caught on an exposed root, and he went sprawling. The world spun as his face met dirt, pain shooting through his knee and shoulder as he skidded to a halt. The taste of blood filled his mouth. 

'How did I trip?!' his mind screamed. 'HOW DID I FUCKING TRIP?!' 

Desperation surged as he clawed at the ground, his fingers digging into the earth as he struggled to get back up. The howls grew louder, the sound of paws pounding against the ground closing in. 

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. 

 He lifted his head just in time to see his so-called companions vanish into the treeline, a few wolves hot on their heels. None of them looked back—not even for a moment. 

"They didn't even hesitate…" he muttered, anger welling up like molten lava in his chest. "Cowards! You left me to die!" 

But then, something unexpected happened. 

Out of the corner of his eye, a figure darted into view.

"Qin?!" Chi Cheng's voice cracked in disbelief. His lean frame stood firm between Chi Cheng and the encroaching pack, his stance unnervingly calm as the wolves bore down upon him. 

He felt a surge of gratitude unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. He wasn't alone. Someone had come back for him. Someone was willing to risk their life for him!

Strength returned to his limbs as he gritted his teeth and tried to stand, determination lighting a fire in his chest. 

He wouldn't let Qin face this alone. 

But as he prepared to rise, his movements faltered. 

Something was wrong. 

The wolves... they had stopped. Every single one of them. 

The snarling ceased, replaced by an eerie, unnatural silence. The beasts stood frozen in place, mid-motion—fangs bared, claws poised, muscles tense, but entirely still. Their glowing eyes, once filled with predatory hunger, were vacant now, staring unseeingly ahead like the glassy orbs of lifeless dolls. 

"What… the hell…" Chi Cheng whispered, his voice barely audible as confusion gripped his mind. 

It wasn't just the wolves. 

Qin, too, was frozen. 

Chi Cheng's eyes darted to his savior, and what he saw turned his gratitude into creeping dread. Qin's body stood unnaturally rigid, his head slightly tilted as if caught in thought. 

But his hair… strands of it were falling out in clumps, drifting down to the ground like brittle autumn leaves. 

Chi Cheng's breath hitched as his gaze traveled downward. Qin's skin was flaking. Thin patches of flesh peeled off, revealing pale, almost translucent tissue beneath. It was as if his body were unraveling, breaking down piece by piece. 

"What's happening to you?" Chi Cheng croaked, his voice trembling. 

Qin didn't move. He didn't blink. It was as though time itself had abandoned him. 

Chi Cheng's stomach churned as horror washed over him in cold waves. The once-intense gratitude he'd felt was now drowned beneath a suffocating weight of confusion and fear. 

His mind screamed at him to move, to run, to do anything, but his body refused to obey. He could only watch, paralyzed, as the scene before him became more grotesque with every passing second. 

This wasn't courage. It wasn't sacrifice. This was something else entirely. 

Chi Chen's lips parted, a hoarse whisper clawing its way up his throat, but no words came. He couldn't form them. His thoughts spiraled in a storm of fear and confusion, and then— 

A shattering force slammed into his chest. 

It was as if the entire world collapsed inward on him. His ribcage crumpled like brittle paper, jagged bones piercing his lungs. A crunch echoed in his ears as his heart caved in under the pressure. Pain erupted everywhere, blinding, suffocating, endless. 

His body convulsed, his knees buckling as blood spewed from his mouth in a choking gasp. His eyes, wide with disbelief, locked on the source of the blow. 

Qin. 

Qin's foot. 

The crushing weight of betrayal paralyzed him more than the agony tearing through his body. His mind screamed for answers, but the pain drowned out all thought. His lips moved, trembling, but no sound escaped. 

'W-why…' The question lingered silently in his gaze, burning with desperation and anguish. 

Qin offered no response. He loomed over Chi Cheng with the same unnatural stillness, his expression empty.

Chi Cheng's vision blurred, the edges of the world darkening, but he didn't die. Not yet. The cruel grip of consciousness clung to him, forcing him to bear witness. 

Qin's hand moved, and in it was a drop of what could only be primeval essence. Yet it glowed red—not green, not the color it was supposed to be. 

Red. Like a rank 2 gu master's.

The not-quite-liquid poured over Chi Chen's broken body, soaking into his skin and pooling in the dirt beneath him. Heat flared, searing through his nerves, and then— 

Darkness. 

At first, it felt like an end. Peaceful, cold, empty. But then the blackness twisted, warped, and he became aware of something else. 

He could see. But not from his body. 

He floated, suspended, as though untethered from reality, and below him, his shattered body lay crumpled on the ground. 

Around it, golden threads shimmered faintly, stretching up toward the sky like strings holding a puppet. 

Confusion gripped him. What was this? Was he dead? It couldn't be. Qin still stood before him, grotesque and wrong, his peeling skin hanging in tatters.

The threads suddenly pulsed. His threads. He could feel them, connected to him in ways he couldn't explain. 

A wave of nausea struck, a thousand times worse than the agony in his broken body. 

He gasped, or tried to. No air came. 

Qin—or the thing that wore his skin—reached out, its movements unnaturally fluid, deliberate, and unhurried. 

The golden threads binding Chi Chen's body began to quiver harder, then unravel, pulled toward the creature's waiting hand. 

'No,' Chi Cheng thought, though his mind reeled in disbelief. This wasn't real. It couldn't be real. 

But it was. 

The threads coiled into the creature's grasp, winding tighter, glowing faintly as they gathered in its palm like a ball of yarn. 

He tried to struggle, to resist, but there was nothing to command. His body was gone, and his voice had vanished into the void. All that remained was his unraveling soul, fraying further with every passing second. 

He was disappearing.

And then the thing turned. 

A scream of pure terror surged through what remained of his mind as he stared at the creature.

The shreds of peeling skin fell away completely, revealing what lay beneath.

It was his own, Chi Cheng's face, atop his murderer's body.

Familiar eyes stared back at him, but they were empty, devoid of life. The lips, his lips, twisted into a cruel, mocking smile. 

'No,' he thought, though the word carried no sound. 

The threads unraveled faster now, the last remnants of his being slipping away into the darkness. He could feel himself fading, piece by piece, until even the concept of feeling itself became a distant memory. 

His final thought was a fleeting fragment of despair, crushed under the weight of incomprehension. 

And then, there was nothing. 

.

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.

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It was a grim day for the Gu Yue clan. 

The A-grade genius Fang Zheng narrowly escaped death after being poisoned by a demonic Rank 2 assassin. The assassin, who managed to kill three Rank 2 Gu Masters, left chaos in their wake before dying in turn. 

Fang Zheng, though critically injured, was expected to make a full recovery—his survival a testament to his resilience and the timely intervention of the clan healers. 

However, the day's tragedies did not end there. The young master of the Chi family, Chi Cheng, suffered a harrowing ambush by a pack of wolves.

The supervising Rank 2 Gu Masters, distracted by the assassin's attack, failed to intervene in time. Miraculously, Chi Cheng managed to escape with his life, though not without significant injuries and a near-death experience. 

Tragically, the only confirmed casualty of the attack was one Gu Yue Qin, a mere C-grade talent who displayed an unexpected act of heroism. Reports indicated that Qin sacrificed himself to buy Chi Cheng enough time to escape the wolves' relentless assault. His body, sadly, was never recovered, presumed to have been devoured by the pack. 

Though it was a dark and bitter day for the clan, the worst-case scenario had been averted. Fang Zheng's recovery offered a glimmer of hope amid the tragedy.

The clan elders, along with the rest of the Gu Yue members, solemnly thanked the ancestors for sparing their brightest star.