The Elder felt his incoming presence from afar. That didn’t deter them from receiving the reports and giving new orders back. Organising all the information would be postponed, though; the Sect Leader would prefer to receive them all firsthand anyway, rather than rewritten and adapted. He was not a fan of the guessing involved in the process.

  When the disciples were done, the Elder let them leave. None wanted, but still, they obeyed: the score of young men and women called them Elder of Lust, a fitting name, seeing what some of them were going through by just witnessing their shadow.

  When he was getting close enough, they sent him a message with their Qi: “Wait for the sunset. I’ll have time to set everything up.”

  When his answer came back affirmative, they sent their underlings’ underlings to do some chores in her stead: close the training grounds for “maintenance”, fill up all the spots of the Cultivation chambers and kick out those who were already there in the name of some random young master, spread the word of whoever was the most famous new prodigy at the time having a duel in an arena, fake some blood feud…

  The disciples had to be up, ready to see the Sect Leader’s impressive coming.

  They changed a couple of their orders, using the names of the descendants of other Elders she didn’t like, and causing an actual blood feud between two of them. Hopefully, it would escalate.

  They went as far as announcing a public teaching session in one of the districts, saying it would start at sunset. His show would make for an easy copout, so that they wouldn’t actually have to do it, unless the man decided to mess with them, which wasn’t that unlikely. Preemptively, they prepared a clone and imbued it with their aura; they hadn’t mastered the technique yet, but it would be enough for it to share some of their lateral understandings and make it worth it for some of the disciples.

  In the last few years, they had become so many it was harder to find a topic that didn’t resonate with anyone than one that did.

  Instructions sent, they went to the open space where their speech was supposed to happen, only a few minutes before sunset. This time, they chose a traditional look, an old man with a long beard and a creepy smile.

  People were gathering there, looking at them like they were some sort of attraction or hero, despite their explicit title. Their innocence annoyed them, as always, the reverence of power first to everything else. Those people killed, drank from skulls, raided, and exterminated for a living, and then looked up to them, the one person in there who had different approaches to problem solving, because of the power they had.

  The occasional murder is fine, but I don’t want to be worshipped by a sea of hobos and fools who like to make holes in people’s heads instead of-

  Everyone felt it.

  Bloodthirst.

  Killing intent, refined through countless battles and endless bloodshed, so sharp it could become a technique of its own, drowning the world in deep red, making everyone feel a raw, natural fear in the very heart of their being, ghosts wailing with sorrow and resentment in its flooding.

  Everyone was on the attention, their eyes drawn away from the Elder of Lust and to the figure in the distance.

  It was barely a dot in front of the sunset, so far many couldn’t actually see it; what they could see, instead, was the head of a beast of dragonic heritage that he carried with him. It was the size of a small city, leaving a long shadow over the Sect. Life giving fluids poured from the cut neck, forming a small lake, beasts of all kind rushing from miles and leagues away to get the smallest sip of them; they were slaughtered too, from a man who didn't even recognize their existence.

  “Stationary Elders, who haven’t left the Sect grounds in at least two millennia.” The man’s deep voice sounded bored. “I don’t know what this is the head of. I think some descendant of a dragon. Maybe a wyvern, or a mutated wyrm. Maybe a snake with a good bloodline. Point is, it was a decent enough fight, and its heart and blood will be used to make me pills and medicinal baths. So it’s good stuff. Go and take as much as you can; whoever of you doesn’t get at least a tenth, dies.”

  He tossed the head away; it took a few minutes for it to reach the ground, and even more for the impact to be felt.

  “Go fetch.”

  A bit over a dozen Elders ran after it.

  What a guy. The blessing and curse of this Sect. He just wanted to weed out who is worthy of resources and who isn’t, AGAIN. Bah. Don’t make my life harder than it already is.

  “The lesson won’t happen anymore. Use the occasion to get a better feel of what a bloodthirsty aura can be when pushed to the limit, and what you can achieve with yours.”

  The Elder of Lust announced the mob under them and flew away at a speed far beyond their perception. They rushed to the base of the peak where the Sect Leader had gone, without them noticing, as always.

  Their look changed: from an old, perverted man, to a mature woman with an ample bosom and motherly face, but with a shadow of pure innocence in their features. A new experiment.

  That man was never easy to understand, looking at them with less attraction than even ascendant monks had. Those monks’ thankings as the Elder destroyed their mountains and lives were not those of sinless men, but it was still a good comparison.

  They had tried to analyse him, but every subtle hint they got ended up being a ruse the next time the two met; at least, that research of novel ways to seduce him was good training.

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  They finished walking up the stairs, taking care to let their chest move more than it would on a woman; even miles away, they weren’t out of the man’s sight. The colossal doors at the end opened by themselves, creaking, another act of showmanship he indulged in.

  And there he was, sprawled on stacks upon stacks of cushions that started from the floor and formed a pyramid with him at the top. Weapons were tossed around him, all covered in blood just like his clothes, staining the cushions.

  “Hello, my dear! I saw you didn’t rush to the head. I’m happy you left this accursed place for once!”

  This “accursed place” is one you founded and designed, you crazy man!

  “My capabilities are more useful outside the Sect than inside. I simply-”

  “Good answer, good answer.” He waved her silent with a playful tone. “Very balanced, I like it, unlike that huge rack of yours. Be modest!”

  Last time they were bigger than this, and you said they were “barely above average” and that “someone of my talents should strive to break convention, not submit to it”. Volatile! Damned volatile man! Stop commenting on my bodies, and just check them out like any other sane person! I’d think you were into men, had you not sighed that hard when I showed up as one!

  “I’ll take it into consideration for the next time.”

  “Good… person. Now, onto the serious stuff. What am I being called now?”

  “Ugh.” They didn’t bother to hide their annoyance. “Murdering Saint. Guts Rain Apostole. Duke of Blood, or Bloody Duke, depending on the locals’ dialect.”

  “I like the last one. Use that. In fact, spread it. Simple is better. I don’t get why people don’t get it, being called Third Redemption Heavenly Cursed Paragon of Endless, I dunno, Sky Cutting, sounds more tiring than flattering.”

  “Sure…”

  “It makes me sound like a vampire, doesn’t it? Duke of Blood. Vampire. Same thing. I’m not against it.”

  “Yeah…”

  “Glad you agree. Now, onto less important things. Update me.”

  “In the last twenty years, the number of…

  Pillaging acts from other countries have increased by…

  Average lifespan seems to…”

  On and on, they told him the various data collected over the course of his hunting trip, a quick three-decade experience, and how the world seemed to be getting more dangerous for the enlightened races, while the enlightened races themselves were getting more powerful, the number and quality of Cultivators growing at an ever-increasing pace.

  “What about the Moon?”

  “That we have learnt not much about. That prophecy is still kept a secret by all the greatest forces we know of; not even I managed to find more details about it, except for one thing: the two faces are not just connected to the fate of the enlightened, but to specific individuals too.”

  The Duke of Blood left his pillowy pyramid, his expression finally showing he was done joking and goofing around.

  He reached the towering doors, grabbed the handles-

  I did not shut them. Did he really have to sneak them closed as we spoke, just for this?

  -and threw them open, revealing the pale light of the Blue Moon as it rose through the night sky. He looked at it, longing.

  “You are still hiding secrets, despite your supposed love for us, uh? Fool me once, Moon, fool me once…”

  The Elder forced themselves not to groan. The man had shed enough blood to fill a sea, and yet he was still playing pretend like a kid.

  “Alright, let me get this clear. All the top dogs do know that there is a prophecy, and that the Moon is a representation of the enlightened races’ Fate and plays an active role in it. And now we know it is also tied to at least one person. At least. Do we know anything about the number they said? The wording? It’d be useful to get a rough estimate.”

  They quoted the woman who revealed the information, subtly altering their vocal cords, lips and mouth shape to imitate her voice perfectly:

  “Thanks to the latest changes, the Astronomer, the Priest and the Prophet have found another connection. Its Fate is tied to the realms of mortals, to those who shall rise and complete it. They, under the orders of people far above your station, are not allowed to share where or who these people are; we are still supposed to search, so widen our recruitment area. If-”

  “Well, that’s settled. At least two. It would be the most fitting number, a champion for each face of the Moon, but we shouldn’t assume. Just like that woman said, we must find the one, or ones, on our side. Not much else to interpret, I think.”

  His eyes left the Elder and went back to the Moon. A huge pillow appeared behind him, and he let himself fall into it, still staring.

  “It had waned a little more, hasn’t it?”

  “Yes. Few others have noticed in my Stage, but many Dukes have. It happened right at the end of last night, close to dawn. The Red Moon, from what we’ve gathered, is unaffected.”

  “So, our side is slowly losing. Sixteen years ago for the first time, tonight for the second, it has waned a bit. Whether it's our Fate, or just that of our champion, or champions, we don’t know, and we don’t know if there’s even a difference between the two. But it’s a fact that our future is looking bleaker, and they still refuse to say anything, just to find these champions for themselves.

  And I’m the one infamous for their lack of care for life, while these self-serving idiots babble around and let everyone else die, all for some quick profit and a half-step worth of extra Cultivation. Putting everything and everyone in danger, but too cowardly to take their lives themselves.”

  His eyes left the moon, piercing those of the beautiful Elder.

  “I’ll kill them all, and those under them, and their families, and their allies, and their chickens and the bastards with their blood and their Sects or Pagodas or whatever, before they can make my life even a tiny little bit harder. I’ve spent the last two months in a fight with a damned little snake. I'm going to finally let loose and show this world why my first title was Herald of Extermination.”

  The world felt fear at his declaration.

  Not the smallest mote of Qi moved, not the barest hint of Dao was felt; the man’s thirst for blood was far more than enough to shake the very core of beings thousands of thousands of miles away, killing intent pointing a blade to the neck of each of them.

  The Duke of Blood smiled like a Demon, relishing the excuse to put an end to the lives of the most powerful people in their country, no, in their world.

  The Elder of Lust lost their form, taking a shape they had long forgotten they even had.