#headshaker

“But you—you’re just a fucking headshaker.” Wen Ruohan said through his gritted teeth. His face was growing pale due to bleeding profusely from his severed arm. The missing limb in question had been discarded to the side, being torn apart by the living corpses of his own deceased Wen soldiers.

Nie Huaisang’s grip on Baxia tightened as he adjusted the saber against his shoulder. He laughed sardonically at the situation. Truly, this must have been a hilarious sight in the eyes of others.

Nie Huaisang, the goddamn Headshaker, about to deal punishment onto Wen Ruohan, the man who killed his father, ordered his brother’s execution, and birthed the scum who got his lover’s sect annihilated.

It was, indeed, a bout of poetic justice.

Wen Ruohan spat blood, eyes narrowed in his usual arrogant contempt. “You dare—”

His sentence was cut off by his own scream as Baxia was stabbed into the thigh of his leg, pinning him into the ground.

“I do dare.” Nie Huaisang retaliated defiantly.

He crouched down at Wen Ruohan’s level, stepping purposefully on the gaping wound and pulling out Baxia. A pained sound escaped the man’s lips as he scrabbled to lift Nie Huaisang’s ankle off his person.

He laughed at such a pathetic attempt.

“I am Nie Huaisang. Son of the late Nie Huojin and brother of Nie Mingjue. The pitiful, weak, and densely underestimated Headshaker. It’s amazing how a title like that will make people forget the one major thing about Nies.” He said, spinning his heel to effectively plunge deeper into the wound.

Nie Huaisang relished the choked sob bubbling in Wen Ruohan’s throat, even more so when he saw it bob against the tip of Baxia’s blade.

He wanted this man to understand the grave mistake he had made. He wanted this man in the last seconds of his life to remember this, to remember all of his terrible deeds that lead up to this very moment.

He wanted this man to regret, even after death.

Nie Huaisang smiled sharply, and the shudder that passed over Wen Ruohan’s face was what made this all worth it. He leaned down and whispered in Wen Ruohan’s ear, the final words the man will ever get to hear.

“We hail from a long line of ruthless butchers.”

With that, Baxia swung down, so fast that anyone who blinked would have missed the moment history had been made.

Wen Ruohan’s head continued to roll until it reached the feet of the Yiling Patriarch. The grandmaster leered at the decapitated head before kicking it over to the freshly resurrected corpses of Wen Ruohan’s own sons. There was no hesitation as they scrambled to reach it first. Nie Huaisang turned away just as their dirty fingernails dug into skin.

He lifted his head to the sky, wondering if his mother and father were watching. If his brother was proud.

Baxia quaked victoriously in his hands. He closed his eyes, letting the relief flow over him as cultivators rejoiced around him.

Finally.