Chapter One: Sudden Change

A towering mountain shrouded in mist. At its base, a zombie wandered aimlessly, its destination seeming to be a nearby thatched hut.

“Freeze!” A faint voice rang out. Suddenly, the already staggering zombie’s feet were locked in solid ice, causing it to stumble and fall. It struggled to rise, but its frozen legs kept it pinned, unable to move.

A boy’s figure appeared from behind the hut. He exhaled softly, wiping the sweat from his brow, then unsheathed his sword and approached the fallen zombie.

Sensing a living person, the zombie reacted more violently, but sprawled on the ground, it was powerless to resist. In the instant the boy drove his sword into the creature’s skull, it finally fell silent.

“Alas, it seems the people down the mountain have all become like this…” the boy murmured to himself. He looked up at the towering peak lost in the clouds, falling into a moment of stillness.

His name was Yue Qi. He had once been an ordinary disciple of the Sword Sect of Clear River, but after disaster struck, he had secretly left the mountain…

The calamity had occurred three nights ago. Yue Qi had been asleep, when a commotion outside startled him awake. Peering through the window, he saw disciples flying on swords everywhere, and near the main hall, a glow of fire was visible.

“Could it be a fire?” Yue Qi wondered. But a blaze would have been easily quelled by a simple ice incantation from any of the elders—no need for such a fuss. The unusual disturbance left him uneasy, so he decided to stay hidden in his room.

After a long while, the noise subsided. Yue Qi peeked outside again; the main hall’s plaza, usually deserted, was now filled with disciples of the Clear River Sect, from elders to menial servants, all wandering aimlessly. Their behavior seemed odd, but not suspecting much, Yue Qi was about to step out for a look.

A sudden pounding at his door made him jump. Gathering his courage, he peered through the crack and saw his friend Yang He. Yang He’s face was ashen, his eyes—usually dark—now tinged with blood-red, though in the night Yue Qi did not notice.

Yang He and Yue Qi had joined the sect the same year. Neither possessed great talent, and both had been apprenticed to an unremarkable elder. Over time, they had become close friends.

The door opened outward. Yue Qi tried to push it, but something heavy pressed against it from outside.

“Hey, Yang He, don’t block the door—I’m trying to open it!” Yue Qi called anxiously. The way Yang He was pushing at the door made it seem urgent.

A guttural growl erupted from Yang He, and he began slamming the door with feral intensity. Yue Qi was startled and stumbled back.

“Could he be under some evil spell?” Yue Qi wondered.

The door, though sturdy, began to give. Yue Qi moved to the window and looked out. His quarters were in a secluded spot, but the noise had attracted others—disciples, both men and women, were drifting toward him. He could even make out a few female disciples among them.

It was strictly forbidden for female disciples to visit the male quarters, and vice versa—a rule of the Clear River Sect never before broken. But tonight, things were clearly awry.

“Something’s definitely wrong…” Yue Qi muttered, patting his head. Yang He’s attack on the door grew fiercer; the solid wood was beginning to splinter.

Yang He must have been drawn by the sound… There’s only one way, Yue Qi thought, as inspiration struck. He opened the window, pointed his sword, and muttered an incantation. Suddenly, a crackling orb of lightning appeared at his fingertip.

“Go…!” With a low cry, Yue Qi sent the lightning ball streaking into the nearby woods.

With a thunderous crash, a tree was struck as if by lightning and began to burn.

At once, inhuman howls sounded outside the door. Looking through the window, Yue Qi saw the crowd drawn toward the fiery woods. The banging at his door ceased—Yang He had apparently joined them.

He checked the crack in the door; the area outside was empty now, all backs to him. No one paid any heed to his hut.

A cold wind swept in through the open window. Yue Qi shuddered. The events of this night were too bizarre—from the initial commotion to the chilling shouts of his fellow disciples.

I have to leave! The sect’s rules were not as strict as outsiders believed; disciples could leave at night with their master’s permission.

I’ll go see my master first, Yue Qi decided. He grabbed his sword and slipped into the shadows, vanishing into the night. He failed to notice an elder in ceremonial robes at the edge of the plaza, who sniffed the air and began following in Yue Qi’s direction.

The mountain was steeped in an unsettling silence. Sword in hand, Yue Qi moved warily, left hand poised in a sword sign, right hand gripping his blade.

The elders’ quarters were some distance from those of the disciples, as the spiritual energy was denser there. Along the way, he passed several figures—some familiar—but he didn’t greet them. A fierce instinct warned him: these people were not as they appeared, and the normally vibrant mountain felt utterly devoid of life.

Yue Qi reached his master’s courtyard. The elders each had their own compound, usually bustling with tea and chess games to ease the strain of training. Tonight, there was only silence.

He could not be sure his master was inside. Quietly, Yue Qi leapt into the courtyard, pressed his ear to the door, and listened—nothing. Frowning, he decided to enter.

After checking his surroundings, Yue Qi gently pushed the door. It was locked from within—his master was likely not inside.

He slid his sword into the door’s seam. This sword was forged by his master himself—not a true magical weapon, but sharp enough to cut through iron, and certainly through a common lock.

But as Yue Qi inserted his sword, a sudden crash sounded from within.

“Master! Is that you?” Yue Qi withdrew his sword and peered through the crack.

“Yes… is that you, Yue Qi?” After a long pause, a trembling voice replied, sounding terrified.

It really was his master! Despite their distant relationship, Yue Qi respected him; hearing he was safe filled Yue Qi with relief.

“Did you come alone?” Hearing footsteps, Yue Qi thought his master would open the door, but instead, the old man asked from within.

“Yes, Master. What’s wrong?” Yue Qi replied, puzzled.

“That’s good…” his master sighed, and only then did Yue Qi hear the sound of the lock turning. Soon the door opened, revealing a withered old man, his face deeply lined, as if death itself hovered near.

“Master, what happened to you? What’s going on outside?” Everything was so strange, Yue Qi couldn’t help but ask before even entering.

His master shook his head, saying nothing. He hurried Yue Qi inside and reached to close the door—but at that moment, a fierce gust struck from behind.

Suddenly, Yue Qi saw his master’s chest pierced by a gaping, round hole.

“Master!” Yue Qi hadn’t seen what attacked, but understood an ambush had occurred. Thinking quickly, he formed a sword sign and summoned a flickering flame—its heat far surpassing that of ordinary fire.

The flame leaped from the old man’s chest wound, erupting with a burst of crackling energy.

“Got him!” Yue Qi was about to dash out, but just then, his master—though mortally wounded—turned his head, his eyes shining with a strange, final brilliance.

“Yue Qi, run! Run! They’ve all become zombies—everyone! Go to Mount Three Purities! Seek the Nascent Soul Patriarchs there to resolve this disaster! Go!” His voice rose to a desperate scream, just as another bloody hand emerged from the wound.

“Go! Forget me! Leave through the window—take the mountain path down!” With his last strength, the old man grappled the attacker, urging Yue Qi to escape.

“I…” Yue Qi wanted to protest, but biting his lip, he flashed his sword and leapt out the window.

Moments later, as Yue Qi fled, the zombies burst in. Their mouths were smeared with blood—no doubt his master’s.

After Yue Qi’s escape, the zombie, bereft of its target, returned to the elder’s corpse, squatted, and began to devour the viscera with its hands—a scene of unspeakable horror and bloodshed.