Re-birth: The Beginning after the End - Chapter 84

Chapter 84: UNLEASHED

Their father placed his hands behind his back, a subtle gesture Li Hua recognized instantly as their family’s signal to retreat. His voice remained steady despite the tension vibrating through his frame. “Master Qian, Wang Da. What do you all want?”

Master Qian’s laugh carried an edge of cruel amusement. “Aren’t you aware? Isn’t that why you both have escaped to the lowest realm? Your primordial lords have requested to bring you back, dead or alive… though preferably alive.”

Her father’s jaw clenched, teeth grinding audibly as he spoke. “Why didn’t the Sovereign of Flames and The Emperor of Tides come themselves if they want us back so badly?”

Li Hua felt her breath catch. The Sovereign of Flames and The Emperor of Tides—names that had appeared in their lessons about the five realms. She remembered sitting with her brothers in their family’s study as their parents taught them about the different levels of realms: the mystic veil at the bottom, then the ascending plateau, in the middle was the profound valley, then the grand eternal, and lastly on top, the celestial plains.

With her instincts carried over from her past life, Li Hua had always noticed the subtle changes in her parents whenever they spoke of the celestial plains—the way their mother’s voice would take on a brittle edge, how their father’s casual demeanor would crack just slightly, revealing something darker beneath.

Her brothers had likely taken these reactions as simple reverence for the realm’s power, or perhaps hadn’t noticed at all, too caught up in the excitement of learning about cultivation’s highest reaches. But Li Hua had recognized the signs of deep trauma carefully hidden, of wounds that had never truly healed.

Now, watching their parents face down an army sent by the very lords they’d spoken of with such carefully masked pain, she understood. All those detailed lessons about the realm and hierarchy hadn’t just been for their education—they’d been preparation, carefully disguised warnings about the power structure they might one day have to face.

Their father’s hand signals became more urgent, more desperate, but his children had already made their choice. Li Hua was the first to move, drawing her twin daggers with fluid grace, their edges catching the morning light like frozen lightning. Her stance shifted into something deadly—not the practiced forms of their training, but the killing stance of an assassin prepared for war.

Her brothers turned to her, momentarily shocked by the lethal intent radiating from their thirteen-year-old sister. But in her eyes they saw not fear, but fierce determination.

“I’m going to fight,” she whispered, her voice carrying steel beneath the softness. “Those twelve leaders might be beyond me, but the five hundred cultivators?” A cold smile touched her lips. “They’ll be easy enough. Worst case we’ll use the rings, but I’m not leaving without at least trying.” The wind essence around her blades began to sing, a high, deadly melody that promised blood.

Her brothers exchanged a single glance before breaking into matching grins. Li Wei’s hand found the hilt of his Azure Sword, drawing it with practiced elegance—the legendary blade hummed with power as water essence crystallized around it, turning the air itself into arctic mist. Li Hao reached for his twin swords with flourish, Ember and Tide gleaming at his touch—one blade wreathed in golden flames while its sister sword rippled with liquid grace, the opposing elements dancing in perfect harmony.

Their mother caught their father’s eye, a knowing smile playing across her lips. Even in this moment of crisis, she couldn’t help but feel pride in their children’s courage. Their father shook his head in exasperation, but his own smile betrayed his emotions—their stubborn, beautiful children were truly their parents’ legacy.

The moment stretched, fragile as morning frost, then shattered into action.

Their father moved with deadly grace, his fingers tracing formation patterns in the air. One instant he stood beside them, the next he had launched himself skyward, leaving trails of glowing symbols in his wake.

As he soared above the twelve leaders, the battlefield itself transformed into a massive formation array. Earth, fire, and water essence responded to his will—stone pillars erupted in perfect geometric patterns, flames spiraled through interlocking circles, and water flowed like liquid blades through hexagonal barriers. The morning air itself seemed to hum with power as his formations carved through the enemy ranks.

The twelve leaders moved as one, their forms blurring with speed as they attempted to surround him. But their father was ready. With three swift gestures, he turned the battlefield into a deadly maze. Earth rose in circular walls, fire formed a spinning web of barriers, and water coalesced into crystalline shields—all working together to trap and disorient the powerful cultivators.

Master Qian’s form flickered to the east while Wang Da charged from the west. Three more leaders attacked from the north, their combined spiritual pressure making the air crack. Five of the remaining seven hung back, their movements focused solely on evading the deadly arrays, while two others spread out to maintain a defensive formation.

But every step they took triggered another hidden array—what looked like random patterns of stone, fire, and water were actually carefully laid traps. The twelve leaders found themselves caught in an intricate dance, the attackers pressing forward while the others weaved through the formation’s deadly geometry, their coordinated strategy transformed into chaos by her father’s masterful control of the battlefield.

As her father contained the twelve leaders above, their mother seized the opportunity to strike from below. Her movements carried lethal grace as wood and fire essence merged into her signature technique—the Burning Forest of Ten Thousand Thorns. Blazing vines thick as tree trunks erupted from the ground, each one crowned with flames that burned with the heat of a thousand suns.

Her father’s lesson from years ago flashed through Li Hua’s mind as she watched the battlefield unfold. “To kill a mortal cultivator,” he had taught them, fingers tracing formation patterns in the air, “target their dantian, shatter their inner core. But immortal cultivators above the Master phase—” he had paused, eyes gleaming with knowledge, “—they cannot be killed so easily. The same technique will only disable them temporarily. True death for an immortal requires precise circumstances: multiple masters working in concert, complex strategic arrays, supreme artifacts of power, or the very laws of heaven aligned against them.”

Her eyes narrowed as she assessed the battlefield. Immortal or mortal cultivators, it didn’t matter—they all had dantians to shatter. If any truly were immortals, well, they’d have plenty of time to regret their choices while their cores reformed. Her celestial diamond earrings flashed with inner fire, and she vanished.

One moment she stood beside her siblings, the next she existed everywhere at once—a phantom of golden afterimages that stretched across the battlefield like scattered starlight. The first rank of enemy cultivators didn’t even register her presence before their formations shattered. One moment they stood ready, the next they crumpled, their dantians pierced with surgical precision.

“Too slow,” Li Hua whispered, her voice somehow carrying across the battlefield despite its softness. Her form flickered between spaces faster than thought, each transition marked only by the soft chime of her celestial diamonds and the collapse of another cultivator. She moved like light between raindrops, her daggers finding vital points with a precision that made the air itself weep. Three heartbeats, twelve bodies. Five breaths, thirty cultivators disabled.

Her brothers entered the fray in her wake. Li Wei stood like an immovable mountain, the Azure Sword singing in his grip. Though wielding only water, his mastery was absolute. The legendary blade hummed with power as he conducted his symphony of destruction—vast waves rose at his command, transforming into thousands of ice needles as arctic mist crystallized around his sword. Each stroke of the Azure Sword spawned new forms of water—from frost that corroded armor to ice that shattered bones to liquid blades that cut through screaming cultivators with devastating precision.

Li Hao’s wild laughter rang across the battlefield as he wielded Ember and Tide with deadly grace. His twin swords danced through the air, Ember trailing golden flames while Tide rippled with liquid power. Steam explosions followed in his wake as the opposing elements worked in perfect harmony—one moment his blades were drawing burning arcs through the air, the next they were sending cascades of water to drown his opponents. Every strike was a poem of fire and water, his dual-elemental swordplay creating a devastating dance of opposing forces.

But it was Li Hua who truly commanded the battlefield. Her celestial diamond earrings chimed like distant bells as she moved, making her impossibly fast. She vanished and reappeared across the battlefield—behind enemies, between their ranks, above their formations—each movement leaving trails of golden light in her wake. All eight elements answered her call, but it was her speed that truly devastated the enemy ranks. Light bent around her blinding form as wind carried her strikes, wood blooming wherever she had been heartbeats before.

Even the twelve leaders paused in their battle with her parents, their eyes widening as they watched this thirteen-year-old girl tear through entire squadrons. Her form flickered like starlight through enemy formations, striking with surgical precision. Where she passed, cultivators collapsed, their cores shattered and meridians severed by strikes too fast to see.

“When did she—” their mother began, momentarily distracted by her youngest child’s display of lethal artistry.

Their father’s proud smile carried a hint of wonder as he maintained his hold on Master Qian. “It seems our little poppy has bloomed into something rather extraordinary.”

Li Hua’s lips curved into a rare, fierce smile as she danced through the chaos. Finally, after all these years of careful restraint, she could let loose. Her instincts sang with joy as light, wind, and wood responded to her will with particular potency, while the other elements played their supporting roles. The restlessness that had plagued her found its outlet at last as she painted death across the battlefield.

The army’s formation began to crack under the family’s coordinated assault.