A Means to an End (WangXian)

What Comes Next

If the battle was gruesome before, there was nothing that could describe the sheer horror that laid across the land now. The dirt soaked in the blood of fallen cultivators, festering and causing a nauseating iron scent to drift through the air. It was thick and revolting. Corpses stacked several feet high, or stood, clawing at the other Wens that still stood. Their numbers fell tremendously. Every time a Wen fell to the ground, slain, they would rise again, the scent of rotting flesh coming off them. They would turn, stare blindly at the other Wens, then they would attack, maim and kill them without a second thought.

Everyone on that battlefield was petrified in some compacity. The Wens feared for their lives, now seeing no end to the corpses, no win to this war. Those on the winning side, yet unfamiliar with Wei Wuxian's past, stared at the man with bright crimson eyes with complete and utter horror. They knew Wei Wuxian was strong, but they could never imagine the horrific ability he wielded. 

Lan Wangji and the others grew frightful. They could see Wei Wuxian losing all his senses, trying desperately to get to the corpse of his best friend, currently being held hostage by Wen Rouhan and his obnoxious younger son. 

They knew the boy at their feet was their leverage. As long as they held onto Nie Huaisang, Wei Wuxian would not attack the two of them.

He's not dead, Wei Wuxian kept repeating in his head. He couldn't sense any resentful energy coming from Nie Huaisang. It could only mean one of two things. Either he was still alive, or left this world with no anger, no regret, and left with peace.

Wei Wuxian couldn't reason with himself why Nie Huaisang would leave without anger. The young cultivator had gone through so much not to want to finish what was started, to not want to protect his brother.

"I demand you stop the rising of those corpses! Otherwise, I will rip your friend, piece by piece," Wen Rouhan threatened. Despite the many cultivators and soldiers he lost, he still felt confident enough in his position.

Wei Wuxian couldn't help the snarl that left his lips. It fueled the other corpses, and they tore into the flesh of other Wen cultivators even faster. Their skin, blood, and organs splattered on the ground, pulverized by the stomping dead.

"Let him go, and I will stop the corpses!"

At this point, the Lans, Nies, Jiangs, and Jins had all stopped fighting watching the intense scene unfold, not worried about the remaining Wens as they were being slaughtered by the rising of all the dead within the entire area.

Nie Mingjue, who felt as if his own heart was about burst, came beside Wei Wuxian. Anger and despair all creating a nauseating pain in his stomach. "Let my brother go, or I swear I will have your head!" He gripped his saber tightly, eyes never straying from his brother's, trying to catch some sort of sign that he was still alive.

But Nie Huaisang was still. There was no movement, not even the subtle rise and fall of his chest.

Wen Rouhan only laughed. "You are in no position to be making demands!"

"Neither are you," Someone with a sharp, yet light voice pierced the air from behind Wei Wuxian.

He turned, only to see Baoshan Sanren holding a blade to Wen Xu's throat.

"Nearly all your men are dead. I have your son. Either listen to our demands or you will lose it all."

Wen Rouhan narrowed his eyes at the woman, though he had no clue as to who she was. It was clear she was powerful. She did not belong to any of the sects present.

"Let him go, you wench!" Wen Chao screeched. Baoshan Sanren merely ignored him, never breaking her eye contact with Wen Rouhan. "Wen Zhuliu!" Wen Chao called.