Chapter Text
Luo Binghe could not see the true depth of the abyssal crack behind him, but he felt it. The demonic energy exuding from himself was strong- yes- but the sinister aura of the depths behind was overwhelming, concentrated.
Luo Binghe was afraid.
For the first time in years, Luo Binghe was afraid of his Shizun.
He’d been living long enough with Shizun to realize that his Shizun was not the Shizun of Qing Jing Peak. To understand how kind the universe was to give him such a gentle man as a new Shizun. Yet, he couldn’t tell his Shizun the truth. This new Shizun was kind, yes, but he was still a cultivator. Luo Binghe held hope- if this new Shizun replaced the old Peak lord of Qing Jing- maybe he would have some empathy for a demon living alongside cultivators too.
Shizun said he needed to go down into the abyss; Luo Binghe felt pain in his chest he'd never felt before. Luo Binghe had been whipped, slashed, he’d been tortured night and day by the same body that his Shizun inhabited now. That pain did not compare to the feeling of his master's blade plunging into his chest.
When Shizun didn’t move his blade further, when he could have easily pierced his heart, he thought everything would be okay. He held the sword in his hands, he was so sure Shizun wouldn’t hurt him anymore. Shizun realized he was hurting him, Luo Binghe didn’t need an apology, he just wanted to go home. Shizun would take out the sword and embrace Luo Binghe once again, they would go home and Luo Binghe would cook dinner as he always did.
Not once did Luo Binghe look behind him. And when his Shizun removed the sword, he thought that perhaps they really would just go home. Forget about the conference and just go home. He was about to cry, he was about to smile, he just wanted to go home.
Hundreds and thousands of deformed arms reached up from the cracks toward the Human Realm, hungering for fresh blood and flesh, the deeper regions faded into black fog and eerie scarlet light.
His Shizun looked his way with an unreadable face and threw him down into the abyss.
Luo Binghe didn’t scream as he fell.
His body felt engulfed in demonic energy, along with something else. He couldn’t pinpoint it, it was something that made him feel as if he was floating, while his demonic energy pulled him further below. Everything hurt, then everything was warm, and then everything ached again.
He didn't know what it was like to be struck by lightning- but Luo Binghe could imagine the sensation inside himself was something similar. Like hundreds of little jolts that came when his hair was especially frizzy.
Meng Mo was screaming in his head about something or other, but Luo Binghe wasn’t listening.
The fall was eternal, Luo Binghe couldn’t see where he was going, he didn’t know how to stop spinning, he couldn’t look at the ground, he couldn’t see the shadow of the trees from above.
He thought he could see a crack on the ground below his plunge into the Endless Abyss, one that he hurled straight towards.
He found himself face down on the ground, lying in not quite dry, not quite soggy ground.
Luo Binghe couldn’t get up. He felt too heavy.
Kid, you need to get up.
The dream demon had surprisingly not left him alone during all this. Like an annoying mosquito buzzing in his ears while he tried to concentrate on cooking for his-
Stop thinking about your Shizun, it’s going to send you into a Qi deviation.
What did it matter? His Shizun was his reason for living, and he threw Luo Binghe down into the abyss. Into that same place that was said to be riddled with monsters and dangers beyond what anyone was able to survive before.
Was it that his Shizun really hated him that much? Enough to send him into an eternal hellscape-
Luo Binghe. This is not the Endless Abyss
Not the abyss.
Where was he?
Luo Binghe opened his eyes to the sight of yellow.
His master always described the endless abyss as a dark desolate place, infested with monsters that could kill someone instantly. This place was desolate but it wasn’t dark, in fact, whatever light arrays were keeping the place lit up were humming like hundreds of bugs had attached to them. But there were no bugs. No monsters. No vermin. It was empty
Around him he could only smell wet fur and almonds, which he soon found came from the carpeted floors. And the shade of yellow decorating the walls was a color that couldn’t possibly be produced naturally.
Where he landed seemed especially wet, as he stood up with his shaking legs, still aching from the fall, the ground made a squelch. The rest of the floors fortunately seemed to be only slightly wet.
Senior Meng Mo… where am I?
Child, this master has not a clue.
If even Meng Mo didn’t know where they were, then Luo Binghe really was truly lost. There was nothing to do but look for a way out. Dying or not.
Even if you wanted to kill yourself, there’s nothing here that would pose anything more than a slight inconvenience to a heavenly demon
Luo Binghe didn’t really know what exactly was a heavenly demon, his Shizun mentioned that they were the most dangerous kind of demon, that that was the reason why he had to-
Had to- to…
No, he- he can’t be thinking about that right now, he couldn’t. Maybe if this was the endless abyss, he’d let the closest monster maul him. But having no way out made it harder to think about such things. His master hated him, why else would he throw Binghe into the place that he taught his students was filled with the most violent creatures of any realm.
But there were no monsters here. None that he could see at least. The world had been working against him in every important opportunity in his life, but it ultimately decided to save him from the inferno of the abyss. Luo Binghe didn’t know if this place had an exit, he didn't know if the abyss had an exit. If there was an end to the place, if he could just prove to his Shizun, prove to him that Binghe being a demon didn’t make him evil-
He first needed to find a way out of this place.
Every step he made made the smallest echo. He walked holding onto the nearest wall as his legs still felt like jello. Stumbling his way through, every room looked exactly the same.
Luo Binghe catches himself thinking about the endless landscape of rooms. It feels so similar to the dream realm.
It does have some dream-like qualities. His demonic teacher comments. But this is unmistakably real. Luo Binghe was sure that the master of dream demonic arts would be able to tell reality from illusion.
The longer he walked the less he trembled, and in what seemed like an instant, he no longer felt like his legs would give out.
Rapid healing, the strength of a heavenly demon. Meng Mo mumbled in his head.
Luo Binghe felt amazed, amazed and scared. If he was healing this quickly with only partial heritage, would his Shizun be disgusted by it? The mark on his forehead was small, the rest of him looked human and his Shizun threw him into the abyss for it. On his chest, the wound by Xiu Ya was still healing, though it nearly reached his heart, it appeared as a scab now. Luo Binghe had nothing of his Shizun with him here, he left everything at home for his return from the conference.
Luo Binghe moved the demonic energy he was now so familiar with away from his heart, he didn’t learn from Meng Mo how to hide his demonic nature fully, how to repair that cracked seal on his body, but he knew how to suppress one thing at a time, a small lesson from Meng Mo that now seemed so far away. He had nothing but his own blood to draw it upon his chest, and he’d bitten his own finger in order to hold back whatever caused that last trace of his master away.
After hours of walking, there was a different room. Curved pillars led onto more and more of the same endless halls. The only difference in each room was in the first room where his landing spot was wetter than the rest of the damp carpet. His clothes had all dried from the carpet moisture and blood of the conference, leaving them unpleasantly smelling of wet rags and blood,the cloth surrounding his chest was covered in blood, it was crackly and crunchy now.
On closer inspection he could see a red hallway from afar on one direction, the red glow reminded him of the reflection of his mark on his shizun’s eye. Luo Binghe took another turn.
Meng Mo had long retreated to the back of his mind, his presence wasn’t missed very much, but the constant bussing in his ears from the lights was starting to make him dizzy.
Out from the corner of his eye, Luo Binghe could swear he saw a staircase- but when he rushed towards it it was nothing but a wall.
Luo Binghe was seventeen. He hadn’t been so young as to throw a tantrum in frustration, but endless hours of walking had tired him. Luo Binghe had just chosen to live, to escape, to prove to his Shizun that he was worthy, and not once had he found anything close to an exit. He hit the wall with his palm in frustration.
His hand went through the paper that decorated the walls of the maze. The rest of his body followed soon after.