Blood Emperor's Lazy Doctor [Hiatus]

In a forest that stretches over more then half of this lower world's land. Filled with red trees, the reason for its name, the Vermilion woods.

Between the hours of one and three am. The full moon was dipping beyond the trees. An eldritch crimson veil, mutating the once pure white, an inauspicious sign.

A devil's night permeates. An oppressive aura cloaks the once tranquil land, sending the wildlife into delirium. Ebbing the false calmness into a tense lull.

"Boom!" An explosion rings out!

Embers spark in the air, smoke plumes the woods. The equilibrium shatters, sending the wild life into panic, breaking free only to be oppressed into a near faint. Fear spreads, like an infectious disease, a waiting an end that never comes, a feeling worse then death.

Past the smoke, into the dancing embers, walled in by dense trees, a courtyard sits alone. A fanciful garden burning into dust. The waters of the small creak c.a.r.e.s.sing the flowers, turn to mist in wake of the scalding heat. A blue flame ravages the solitary abode, threatening to swallow it whole.

This courtyard, although out of common reach, belongs to the ill.u.s.trious, eccentric, and solitary doctor Mozen. Abstaining from otherworldly acts, rarely appearing in the public eye. It's said there's no illness she can't cure, an injury she can't heal, or a poison she can't cleanse. Often proclaiming 'there are no incurabilities, just incompetent doctors.' Earning the title 'Death Defying Doctor.' Gaining the respect of all in the medical field. Only ever accepting one disciple.

Inside a room, missing a large portion of its roof. The once pristine vermilion walls, c.h.e.s.tnut dressers, and adornments dance in the flames. The gu-fei canopy bed's fate was much worse. Collapsed, turned into a pile of fire wood, without prior knowledge you'd never guess it was once a bed. The study area and medical shelves broken into pieces, scattered remains litter the ground. There were traces of blood here and there, obvious signs of a struggle taken place. In the midst of the raging inferno, engulfing the room, sits the death defier herself.

Her once light blue gown has been baptized in blood. Tearing can be seen throughout the cloth, vitiating the once fairy likeness. Her inky but cloud like hair flows in streams down her shoulders and back, the ends gracing the floor in a spiderweb like fashion. Along her temples and cheeks, fringes stick using her sweat as the glue. The heat of the fire has down it's job well.

Even still, though the air be hot and unbearable, it does nothing to help the color of her skin. What should be ruddy, is now pale and wan. Her complexion so ghastly white, as if one step away from letting death through the door. Yet sitting proudly above her cracked and withered petal lips, her small and dainty nose, are two earthen pools containing much wisdom and grit, despite her lazy disposition.

In wake of the circ.u.mstances, even the king of hell would have to give her props. Not a trace of fear can be seen in those eyes. Just a laid back arrogance that could careless for the fire that could claim her life.

Her chilly nonchalant gaze, was fixed upon the three men cloaked in black, floating amongst the embers. One stands out amongst three, with the other two standing subservient.

The central man, dressed conservatively, dr.a.p.ed in a cloak, covering him from head to toe. One couldn't imagine his appearance or stature. One only felt he was very tall, whilst the air around, powerful and overbearing. His aura dripping from his very bones speaks tales of what kind of man he is. A arrogant and cold nature, a self serving, chauvinistic man, who believes his word is equal and above the law.

"Mozen, this Lord's willing to give your life its saving grace, so why must you refuse? Opportunity only knocks once, yet this lord has knocked several times."

The man that claimed himself a lord, reaches out, a gentle grin formed on his lips. Letting out a seductive and sweet voice, yet hidden underneath an icy chill.

Mozen Laughs hysterically, "Saving grace? Do you think this doctor a fool? You've gone this far and done so much, yet still think you can tempt me? How funny, I'm going to die of laughter before the flames eat me."

Amongst her laughter, a creaking echos, the oppressive aura becomes denser, causing the flames to burn hotter. Which in turn causes the paper windows that were holding strong, to give in and burst out!

Newly open windows brought along a gust of wind, that dances along with Mozen's hair and dress. Portraying the image of a fragile yet beautiful beast, making its last stand at the edge of a cliff.

The sight was bewitching those present, forcing the subservient men to retreat a few steps back, averting their gaze. If they stared a moment longer, their master might kill them.

That lord's eyes darken with this sight, an ache grips his heart. There isn't a woman out there that would deny me, why does this one not know what's good for her? I am a Venerable Lord and she is but a doctor that hasn't even reached divinity. Yet I can't win against her? A weak little girl, one I could easily break with but a finger!?

Through gritted teeth, his face darkening with every word, yet still holding that seductive chill, "Watch your mouth, do you not know what's good for you, do you not want to live?"

"This Lord still loves you dearly, why must you break my heart?" Holding back a tremble in his voice. Who knows whether it be from anger or heartache.

Coughing out a mouth full of blood, wiping away the trail on her lips, ignoring those icy words of endearment. She couldn't help but sneer and continue laughing. "Why should this doctor care for her life? Hell, you're doing me a favor, saving this doctor the trouble of preparing a funeral. How cost efficient!"

During her coughing fit, a support beam falls in front of Mozen, setting her dress a flame. Yet to her, this is just another day, as if the flames were as soft as the wind, not harmful in the least. Mozen smiles a smile that never reached her eyes, full of contempt and pity for the foolish caped bastard in front of her, her gaze unshaken.

The man sneers, turning his heart cold. His hand falls back to his side, clenching his fist so tightly, his nails draw blood. Fine, you want to die, then just die! See if this Lord continues to care!

The subservient men, fully used to their masters temper, sigh inwardly. This woman doesn't know whats good for her. It's an honor to have their lord's attention. Without giving the ungrateful woman a second look, they turn around about to depart from the scene, but before they could, Mozen's voice stops them.

"Hey greedy bastard, Liu Rougang. Let me leave you with a little something, something before I die." Laughing contemptuously, watching them stop in their tracks. If this were another day, she'd be too lazy to speak to this man. Someone as arrogant as him never listens.

The man's heart skips a beat, hope floods in. Ignoring the obvious signs of disp.l.e.a.s.u.r.e in her voice, only paying heed to one fact. She said his name! Doesn't that mean she's finally paying attention to him? Has she come to her senses? Is she willing to be mine now? If she becomes mine, then all that is hers will become mine!

Noticing the greed in his eyes, she sneers in her heart. Flashing her pearly white teeth, tilting her head disdainfully, "If you had waited just three more months, I would have died..."

The light of joy in his eyes vanish upon her words, replaced with a myriad of complicated emotions. Chills ascend his heart rapidly, "what did she" mean by that?

Before he could finish that thought. He becomes entranced when the moon light breaks through the clouds of smoke, highlighting her pale blood stained face, further enhancing the symbol on her forehead. The symbiotic flame borders the boundary of skin and materialism, that shined brighter then the flames encroaching her hair and gown.

Within this mystical moment, she narrows her mirth fulled eyes, speaking coldly "...and you, would still be living."

"Boom!"

Exactly when her last word fell, a colossal explosion swallowed the Vermilion woods, decimating a large portion, wiping it from existence...

Somewhere in the top floor of a tightly guarded pavilion. Inside the room a man sits at a sandalwood desk staring intently, his gaze unwavering. Dressed in a blue robe, an embroidered dragon soaring across the bottom hems. Sitting proudly against the desk, a saber lays dormant in its hilt.

His brows flinch at the sound of a crack. A gem the size of a woman's palm, the color of the ocean, sits securely in a coral stand. Surrounded by many priceless jewels, jade accessories and the like, the gem hails the center stage. At the bottom of the stand sits a lone lock of hair, bond in a white silky ribbon.

A crack spread down the center, nearly splitting the gem in two. A mysterious energy leaks out of the crack. The man's eyes dim with each passing second as the energy fades away.

"So it's done." He sighs out a century old breath.

A man in black appears a few steps behind with a subservient air. With head down, daring not look at the man at the desk.

The man in the blue robes walks to the open window. His gaze holding a profound meaning as it traces the full moon, soaking in its light. A blissful image it should be, but one oddly can't feel that now.

"She's gone?" His voice steady and calm. A question but yet not a question. Seeking an answer but yet not wanting one. The air around him has become somber and heavy.

The subservient man stays silent, being swallowed by the dark, he holds his breath as the room becomes cold.

In the next instant the desk which was holding the gem turns to dust!

A breeze furls the man's blue robes as he grips the blade in his left hand. A fierce but dull light flickers in his eyes as he speaks. "Are the preparations complete?"

The subservient man, who knows when he had started kneeling replies. "Yes my lord."

"Mm." The man in the blue robe gives a sign of acknowledgement, then vanishes in place.

Breaking out in a cold sweat, the subservient man's back has long been drenched. He glances to his right, and swallows hard as a gust of wind graces his lifeless cheeks.

A hole in the shape of a sword has all but destroyed the right most wall of the pavilion. Near by mountain seems to have vanished as well. The man in black steadies his breathing. His masters mercurial mood is frightening!

A similar scene occurred in two other locations. Nobody knew what happened, but they felt the wrongness and were restless. This night had later come to be known has 'A Night of Illness.' For on this night, for millions of miles, no one could sleep.

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Author's note: In case of theft. This is an original -English- novel done by yours truly [MyKataren]. This author will state here and now, oh ye thief of old, thanks for the free advertis.e.m.e.nt!

First site upload: wattpad.com/story/188205411

Second site upload: (It's URL is too messy! Go search it yourself!)