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(Secret Headquarters Of The Crimson Demon Sect)

(Hidden Mountain Range- Temple of Agar)

Guo Rui\'s corpse lay silently on the platform.

Blood pooled around his cold and still body, the warmth of the liquid providing some residual heat to his lifeless skin.

But it was no use. 

He would never move, breathe, or hurt anyone else ever again.

His head had been neatly cut off. His eyes continued to blaze with hatred as if he was silently cursing the one who did this to him.

There was complete and utter silence.

When the body appeared, the results of the succession ceremony were all but confirmed. Guo Rui was the strongest disciple of the Crimson Demon Sect who was in the qi tide stage.

His death meant that there was no one capable of killing the masked woman who had claimed the title of successor.

Guo Rui\'s master a handsome youngish looking man whose true age was unknown slowly walked up to the body and held out his palm.

Dark purplish black flames shot forward and consumed the corpse until it was nothing more than a pile of ashes.

A strong gust of wind blew away all traces of the once powerful and arrogant disciple. Nothing was left behind to remember him by.

"Is there anyone else who wishes to challenge the successor?" Yang Xia calmly spoke as she stepped in front of the red obelisk and waited.

Time was running out.

There was only enough time for one more person to face the successor before she survived the ceremony.

The problem was… no one wanted to die.

After three days of non-stop fighting all the crazies and lunatics had already gone and most of them had died in the underground arena.

The strongest disciples had gone on the last day, and they had died or been defeated one after the other. 

Honestly speaking… there was no one left.

"Then we shall wait," Yang Xia quietly spoke. Her voice was no louder than a whisper and yet it carried into the ears of everyone standing in the forest.

The sect leader stood silently with her arms behind her back. She looked off into the distance and no one could tell what was running through her mind.

Little did they know that behind that calm exterior was a mother who was silently mourning the loss of her child.

This felt like the final step.

Her son would never be the successor because he was no longer in this world. The one who he had saved would take his place.

It was hard not to feel curiosity mixed with a feeling of loss.

Why did he do it?

Yang Xia supposed that her question would never get an answer. The amulet was capable of teleporting him back to the sect so why had he not used it on himself?

Why? Why give it to a disciple of the Holy Sword Sect? 

And a saintess no less!

Yang Xia closed her eyes and slowly exhaled. She opened them and calmly looked on as the sun began to set towards the horizon.

Warm orange rays of light illuminated the forest and bathed the temple in a soft glow that seemed otherworldly.

The final hour of the succession ceremony felt like an eternity as the minutes passed by with no one making a move.

Time worked slightly differently inside the temple, so this hour of waiting was probably the equivalent of a few seconds to Xu Lu in the underground arena.

Finally, as the sun disappeared and the first stars could be seen in the sky, Yang Xia knew that the time had come.

BOOM!

A loud rumbling noise shook the entire temple and the stone door that led to the inner sanctum slowly opened.

A figure stepped forward into the moonlight holding a longsword that was still covered in blood and bits of flesh.

Her once neat ponytail was slightly messy, and she carried herself with dignity and grace. Yet beneath that calm demeanor was a sense of bloodlust and killing intent.

She wore dark robes that were plain and unglamorous. No trinkets, ornaments or pieces of jewellery could be seen on her body.

A silvery grey mask covered her face and completely hid her facial features save for her eyes. Her eyes that were completely crimson with traces of golden.

"Our ancestors will witness this moment," Yang Xia broke the silence with a solemn declaration that filled the air.

"The one who has been chosen as the future leader of our sect. She has survived the ceremony and emerged victorious."

"Those who have stood in her path have been broken, killed, or beaten. She is the victor who stands amidst a sea of corpses."

Yang Xia slowly approached the masked woman and took a knife out of her storage ring. The knife was a dull grey colour and strange carvings adorned the edges of the blade.

The sect leader dug the knife into the palm of her right hand without hesitation. The blade sank several inches deep into her flesh and yet her expression did not change.

She withdrew the bloody knife and used her left hand to raise up the amulet that hung around Xu Lu\'s neck.

She dripped her own blood onto the amulet and the scarlet eye in the center of the pendant suddenly blinked.

Xu Lu wasn\'t sure what was happening but could feel a strong sense of connection to the amulet that rested gently on her chest.

It was like the object was now an extension of her body in a way that she could not describe without sounding crazy.

"Kneel," Yang Xia coldly spoke as she stood in front of Xu Lu.

The former saintess of the Holy Sword Sect bent her knees respectfully. 

Out of the corner of her eyes she could see every member of the crowd watching what was happening.

Every single person.

From the lowly outer disciples to the respected elders who were the spiritual pillars of the Crimson Demon Sect.

They all could not look away.

"Do you swear to protect the sect no matter the cost?" Yang Xia\'s cold voice asked a simple question.

"I swear," Xu Lu replied firmly.

"Do you swear to seek the power necessary to destroy our enemies?" Yang Xia asked another question with a hint of ferocity in her tone.

"I swear," Xu Lu repeated the same words.

Yang Xia placed her bloody right palm on Xu Lu\'s shoulder and allowed her to rise up from the ground.

"You will be a worthy successor," Yang Xia calmly stated. 

No one could tell the secret feeling of bitterness that lingered in her heart.