Why is My System Glitching-Chapter 80: The Tea

The dilapidated courtyard sprawled under a sky choked with gray, the air thick with the stench of rust and rot.

Thump, thump, thump! 

Miu Tyanh staggered back, blood streaming from gashes that crisscrossed his flesh, his indigo robe shredded to tatters. He reeled over ten yards, boots scraping the cracked stone, before his legs buckled. A sharp pang stabbed his chest—his body swayed, then crashed to his knees with a dull thud.

He clawed at the ground, hands trembling, and forced his head up. His eyes blazed—twin infernos of rage—his brows knit with defiance. "Lordi Payne slaughtered my brother—shattered my peace, cracked my Dao Heart!" he roared, voice gravelly and raw, spitting blood with each word. "Without his death, my Inner Demon festers—my path to the Great Dao's fucked! This hatred's carved in bone, Lady Joanie—why hold back? Kill me, or I'll rip him apart myself!"

The courtyard lay transformed.

Where a towering rockery once stood, only empty space remained. The gazebo still stood at its center, but now bore jagged scars—its roof split asunder, fractured beams jutting like broken ribs against the sky.

Yet amidst this devastation, Joanie sat unmoved.

Perched gracefully on a crumbling bench, her slender fingers worked needle and thread with unhurried precision. The unnatural stillness around her seemed to swallow all sound, as if the very air held its breath in her presence.

A portrait of calm in a ruined world.

Her long hair—black as a raven's wing—floated behind her, unbound and alive, tendrils writhing like a storm of shadows that swallowed the sky. The courtyard dimmed under its weight, the light snuffed as if her presence drank it whole. An oppressive force radiated from her—silent, suffocating, a tide of dread that pressed on Miu Tyanh's chest like a mountain's fist, squeezing his lungs, his soul. Each breath felt stolen, his rage dwarfed by the sheer, unearthly pressure that pinned him to the earth.

She threaded the needle, her voice a soft, chilling murmur that cut through the gloom. "Your fate's a cruel jest. If Lordi Payne had failed to fuse that Dao Flame, I'd have left him to rot—your blade could've had him. But he's proven his worth now. How could I let you touch him?" 

Her tone dipped, cold and deliberate. "Yet luck spares you too. Fine jade needs grinding—a true genius thrives on scars. You and Lordi Payne? Sworn enemies now. You'll be his whetstone—and a damn good one."

Her words hung like a noose. "I won't kill you," she continued, eyes still on her stitching, "but you'll swear two Inner Demon Oaths here. First: seal your lips about today. Second: no revenge until Lordi Payne steps into the Inner Sect."

Miu Tyanh's face twisted—ferocious, feral—his chest a cauldron of boiling wrath. He'd been ready to die, to drown this courtyard in blood. But her words struck him dumb, fury faltering under the weight of her gaze as it finally lifted—two fathomless wells of shadow that bored into him.

Miu Tyanh knelt, his mind racing, then forced his voice out—gravelly, respectful, yet edged with bitter reluctance. "Lady Joanie... After Lordi Payne steps into the Inner Sect. What then?"

"I will not interfere in the fight of the same cultivation stage realm, and neither will my mistress." Joanie's embroidery frame rested in her lap, the needle piercing stretched human skin with a soft, wet schlick. She lifted it, inspecting a stitch with cold precision, her long hair spilling behind her like a cascade of ink-black serpents, writhing faintly as if stirred by an unseen wind. "If Lordi Payne dies in your hands at that time, it will proved he is a trash and unworthy to deserve my mistress's favor."

"But now he is still in the Qi Refinement stage. Any Foundation Stage fool—or higher—who dares lay a finger on him—death."

"..." Miu Tyanh's expression darkened, his jaw tightening as rage and fear warred within. His Inner Demon had taken root the instant Miu Toanh's death reached him—a gnawing parasite born of grief, sprouting in the cracks of his Dao Heart. The encounter in Lurewoven Grove had been a warning, a tremor in his soul, but it confirmed the demon's hold was deepening.

If Lordi Payne lived, that darkness would swell—festering with every heartbeat, threatening backlash that could shatter his cultivation, doom his path to the Great Dao.

He paused, then rasped—voice cold with unwilling grit. "Fairy Lith... her highness wield maiden you, Lady Joanie, to threat over me, fair enough. But Successor Chou's men could just as easily gut Kinson Wexford. With her highness still in seclusion, do you truly wish to ignite a feud between the two Sect Successors? Can you bear the weight of that chaos?"

Joanie didn't look up. Her needle slid through skin flesh with eerie grace, the soft pop of thread piercing skin echoing in the silence. Her eyes stayed low, voice dropping to a frostbitten murmur. "The Holy Saintess throne is my mistress's—hers alone."

The words landed like a guillotine's thud. Miu Tyanh's face flickered—uncertainty flaring into fury, then sinking into grim resignation.

He had no choice.

"Fine," he spat, respectful yet dripping with reluctance, a vow ground out through clenched teeth. "I'll swear the oaths."

Against Lady Joanie, he had no chance.

Even bringing up Successor Chou's name couldn't make this phantom maid soften her attitude, so in this moment Miu Tyanh could only bite back his rage, swallowing it like bitter ash, his silence a grudging surrender.

After all, if he continued to defy hard, he would definitely die here.

Even if Miu Tyanh was not afraid of death, he didn't want to lose his life meaninglessly.

"Lordi Payne is valued by Successor Lith, and he's even guarded by phantom maid while in the Qi Refinement stage. Such preferential treatment that Kinson Wexford never got before." His mind churned, face a mask of stone. "I am afraid that his talent and aptitude are beyond my expectations! But wasn't I one of the most outstanding disciples in the Outer Sect back then? Otherwise, how could I seize the rare opportunity to build my foundation stage and ascend to the Inner Sect?"

"I am now at the Advanced-Phase of Foundation Stage. Once Lordi Payne builds his own foundation. Hmph, a mere early-phase, I'll crush him myself, avenge Toanh..."

"There is no need to die here for a momentary anger."

"Just let this runt Lordi Payne live until he enter the Inner Sect for the time being."

Thinking of this, Miu Tyanh coughed, blood splattering his lips. His hand clenched into a fist, pressing hard against his chest as he rasped out the oaths Joanie demanded, voice low and tight with reluctant venom: "By my Inner Demon, I swear—silence on today, no vengeance 'til Lordi Payne hits the Inner Sect." A thin, glowing black thread lanced from his forehead, coiling in the air like a serpent of smoke before plunging back into his chest with a faint, chilling hiss—the oath sealed, binding his soul.

At the end, he staggered to his feet, wounds weeping, and turned for the exit—a rusted gate looming in the gloom. But as he trudged forward, the distance stretched—yards became miles, the gate a taunting mirage that never grew closer. The courtyard's walls pulsed faintly, the shadows deepening into a suffocating shroud. His boots scraped stone, each step heavier, as if the floor itself dragged at him with unseen hands.

His heart sank, dread icing his veins. He whirled back, voice cold but edged with unease. "Excuse me, Lady Joanie, what's this about?"

Joanie raised her head and looked at him with her ink hollow eyes, her voice slithered forth, soft and still. "Please drink the tea before leaving."

Tea?

Miu Tyanh froze, his gaze snapping to the cracked stone table in the gazebo—a steaming teacup perched there, untouched, its dark surface glinting with a faint, unnatural sheen. His gut twisted, every instinct screaming to flee.

"Lady Joanie... your kindness is noted," he forced out, voice low and strained. The muscles around his eyes twitched as he tried to deflect. "But I'm not parched—really, I'll pass."

Joanie concentrated on embroidering, as if she didn't hear the reply

Miu Tyanh took a few more steps towards the exit passage, and seeing that he still couldn't pass through or get closer, he knew that he couldn't leave without drinking the cup of tea. His heart sank, dread icing his veins.

"Damn this bitch ghost forced me swear those damn Inner Demon Oaths, swore I'd be Lordi Payne's fucking grindstone." Miu Tyang raced thoughts inwardly, "Then even if there is something wrong with this cup of tea, it won't kill me right here. She still need me in her game."

He gritted his teeth, staggered back into the gazebo. His trembling hand snatched the teacup, the ceramic cold as a corpse despite its steam.

The liquid was a murky abyss—dark, swirling, with faint pulses of life flickering within. As his fingers brushed it, the tea erupted—churning, boiling, bubbles swelling like festering sores. Each one, the size of a fingernail, burst to reveal an eyeball—freshly gouged, bloodshot veins trailing like threads, staring up at him with unblinking malice. They bobbed, pupils twitching, locking onto his gaze as if alive, accusing, hungering.

Miu Tyanh's breath hitched, a choked gasp escaping as he jerked his head up. Joanie's hollow, ink-black eyes met his—two fathomless pits that stripped his soul bare. She'd paused, the embroidery frame resting on her lap, her posture elegant yet chillingly still. Her voice slithered forth, soft and lethal: "Please."

Then her hair erupted—a storm of black tendrils surging upward, blotting out the sky above the chamber in a sea of writhing shadow. Through the gaps, a monstrous shape loomed—a titan-beast, a grotesque parody of humanity towering higher than spires. Its flesh glistened, a slick, oil-black sheen dripping from its hulking frame, a giant's form warped into nightmare. Where eyes should've been gaped two cavernous maws, brimming with jagged, needle-sharp teeth that gnashed silently, drooling thick strings of ichor. In its gnarled fist, it clutched a bloody femur—massive, freshly torn, marrow oozing from its splintered end. The beast leaned from the gate's shadow, its eyeless maws fixed on him, malice radiating like a palpable stench.

Drip, drip. 

Crimson stains slid from the bone, spattering the stone before Miu Tyanh in wet, accusing splotches. His face blanched, sweat beading as he stared into the tea—those eyes still watching, unblinking.

Miu's hand shook, but he steeled himself, threw his head back, and downed it in one desperate gulp. The liquid burned—a vile, coppery sludge coating his throat, squirming as it sank. He slammed the cup down, spun, and bolted for the passage.

This time, the gate didn't resist. The shadows parted, and Miu found him stumbled back into the Gworm Abyss.

However, before Miu Tyanh could catch his bearings, agony erupted—his gut convulsed, a searing claw ripping through him. He crashed to his knees, sweat pouring, and clutched his stomach, a raw, guttural scream tearing from his throat as the tea's curse took hold.

——-

Beyond the Skeletal Roost Mire, the fog hung thick and gray, a shroud over a land of twisted cranes and stagnant rot, their skeletal forms clawing at the sky like the bones of a forgotten beast. A massive Bone Bloom Curse flower unfurled behind Lordi Payne, its gray-white petals glistening with a sickly sheen, dripping with an unseen malice. Countless bone chains snaked around him—jagged, ivory tendrils binding his arms and chest, tightening with a grinding clatter that echoed through the mire's eerie hush.

Before him stood Oen Shinae, her icy hand brushing his cheek, cold as a grave yet strangely tender. Her face flickered—a haunting shift—as her sharp features melted into Oen Yume's delicate, death-pale visage, her shut eyes quivering under spider-silk lashes. The chains tightened, a cruel pulse, siphoning his blood qi and spiritual energy in greedy gulps, the air humming with their theft. Then her face snapped back—Oen Shinae again, eyes wide with frantic terror as she clawed at the chains, desperate to free him.

"Senior Sister—are you okay?" Lordi Payne's voice rasped, faint and fading, yet steady as stone despite the life draining from him. "Will you... be alright?"

Oen Shinae froze for a moment, her breath catching. Lordi's words hit like a quiet thunderbolt—amid his own dying gasps, this man still worried for her.

A strange warmth bloomed in Shinae's chest, unfamiliar, almost alien, threading through the icy dread that gripped her. "He's half-dead, bound by my own curse, and still... he cares about me?" The thought stirred her, a flicker of something soft and unguarded beneath her steel resolve, a tenderness she couldn't name. She shoved it down, voice urgent but softer than she meant. "I'll be fine—zodiac year's not done, she can't touch me yet. Hold on Junior Brother Payne—I'm cancelling this Bone Bloom Curse now. The second you're free, just run. Far as you can, but steer clear of east and southeast."

"Got it, Senior Sister," Lordi Payne croaked, a faint nod his only strength. Truth was, he could've triggered Kinson Wexford's Hundred-Mile Escape Dao Fulu the moment the chains struck—fled in a heartbeat. But Oen Shinae's kindness, her fierce, unexpected care, had rooted him. "She's risked everything for me—how could I just bolt without a word?" Now, though, he saw the cost—staying was a death sentence. His hand twitched toward the Fulu, resolve hardening.

But before he could act, the air shivered—a ripple of shadow and frost. A figure materialized in front of his sight, sudden and silent, her palace attire billowing in the midair.