Dark Ruler’s Blade

Crimson-Eyed Dragon

Sui Jiang strode back into the Jiang residence, his expression carved with smug satisfaction. Pride clung to him like a second skin, untouched by remorse, though he had hurled his younger brother Lin Jiang into the yawning Abyss of Death. The faint glow of lanterns flickered against the polished wooden beams, casting long shadows that seemed to whisper of treachery. The air smelled faintly of sandalwood incense, but beneath it lingered the metallic tang of unease.  

Ning Jiang, seeing her brother return alone, rushed forward, her silk slippers brushing against the cool stone floor.  

“Where is Brother Lin?” she demanded, her voice trembling, sharp with fear.  

“How should I know? Why ask me about that worthless trash?” Sui Jiang sneered, his tone slicing through the silence like a blade. His eyes gleamed with cruel amusement, and the faint rustle of his robe echoed his disdain.  

“I saw you with him. Tell me where he is!” Ning Jiang pressed, her voice rising, the tremor of desperation vibrating in the air.  

“It’s none of your concern. You’re just a child—stay out of matters beyond you.” His words dripped with venom, the sound of his voice heavy as iron.  

“He is still my brother!” Ning Jiang cried, her eyes brimming with defiance, her fists clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms.  

“Yes, but he’s gone now. Stop asking me where he is!” Sui Jiang snapped, his voice reverberating against the wooden walls, leaving a chill in its wake.  

Their quarrel was cut short as Lord Jiang entered, Wen Jiang trailing beside him. The heavy doors creaked open, and the faint aroma of bitter tea followed them in.  

“Have you completed your task, Sui?” Lord Jiang asked, his voice low, expectant, carrying the weight of authority.  

“Yes, Father. That trash will never return to this house,” Sui Jiang replied coldly, his words as rigid as stone.  

“Trash, you say?” Ning Jiang shouted, her small fists trembling, her voice echoing like a bell struck too hard.  

“Ning Jiang, silence!” Lord Jiang barked, his tone thunderous. “You are too young to understand. Stay quiet!” His words slammed into her like a door shutting, final and merciless.  

“Mother!” Ning Jiang cried, her voice breaking, raw with anguish.  

Wen Jiang lowered her head, her heart heavy with grief. She knew the truth—Sui Jiang had killed Lin Jiang. The weight of that knowledge pressed against her chest, suffocating, as though the air itself had turned to stone.  

“Come, Ning. Let us go to your room,” Wen Jiang whispered, her voice trembling, fragile as porcelain.  

The parents of the Jiang children carried their sorrow silently, though Wen Jiang’s heart bled. What mother could endure knowing her son had been slain, powerless to stop it? The faint rustle of her robes was drowned by the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.  

“But Mother!” Ning Jiang protested, her voice sharp with resistance.  

“Enough. Come with me,” Wen Jiang urged, her hand trembling as she reached for her daughter’s.  

Lord Jiang and Sui Jiang exchanged cold glances, their eyes hard as steel. They knew Wen Jiang and Ning would never accept Lin Jiang’s death.  

“Are you certain he is gone?” Lord Jiang asked, his voice steady, though shadows flickered in his gaze.  

“Yes, Father. As you commanded, I cast his body into the Abyss of Death,” Sui Jiang answered firmly, his tone unwavering.  

“Well done. You are dependable,” Lord Jiang said, patting his son’s shoulder with grim approval. The sound of his palm against fabric was hollow, empty of warmth.  

Meanwhile, in Ning Jiang’s chamber, Wen Jiang finally released her grief. Her sobs filled the room, raw and piercing, echoing against the carved wooden panels. She cried for the son she had lost—the one she had cherished most. The faint scent of jasmine oil in the room was drowned by the salt of her tears.  

Ning Jiang watched, her young heart aching. She understood her mother’s sorrow, though she could do nothing to ease it. The silence between sobs was heavy, pressing against her chest.  

“Brother Lin… are you truly gone?” she whispered, her voice fragile as a candle flame in the wind.  

*****

Lin Jiang’s body plummeted endlessly into the Abyss of Death, a chasm so deep its floor was littered with jagged stones. The wind howled around him, carrying the scent of damp stone and decay, its chill biting into his skin like icy claws.  

Yet instead of striking the bottom, his body slipped into a tunnel of darkness, a corridor of shadow that seemed infinite. The air was thick, suffocating, filled with the echo of his own descent.  

Thud!  

At last, he landed before the mouth of a hidden cave, its entrance concealed by thick undergrowth. Blood seeped from his wounds, staining the earth at the cave’s threshold. The soil smelled of iron and rot, and the texture beneath his fingers was cold, slick with moisture.  

As his blood soaked into the soil, the ground trembled violently, a quake rippling through the cavern. The sound was deafening, like thunder trapped beneath the earth.  

Suddenly, a river of blood surged from beneath the earth, pulling Lin Jiang’s broken body into the cave. The undergrowth shifted, sealing the entrance shut, hiding all trace of what had occurred. The scent of copper filled the air, thick and suffocating.  

The crimson current dragged him deeper, carrying him into the heart of the cave. At the end of the tunnel lay a vast chamber, its air thick with the stench of blood and shadow. Darkness pressed against the walls, oppressive and suffocating, the silence broken only by the drip of unseen water.  

Boom!  

From the ceiling descended a silver-white staff, its surface gleaming faintly in the gloom. It struck the ground beside Lin Jiang, standing upright as though alive. The sound reverberated like a bell tolling in the void.  

“Is it this child’s blood that has awakened me?” a voice rumbled from within the staff, deep and resonant, vibrating through the cavern walls.  

From its tip, a pale mist unfurled, coalescing into the colossal form of a dragon. Its scales shimmered faintly, catching the dim light like fragments of moonlight, but its eyes blazed crimson, burning with ancient fury. The air grew hot, thick with the scent of scorched stone.  

The dragon’s maw opened wide, its breath hot and heavy, as though it meant to devour Lin Jiang where he lay. The sound of its exhale was like a furnace roaring to life.  

“This boy carries immense talent, yet his body is shattered. What calamity befell him?” the dragon mused, its voice echoing like thunder rolling across mountains.  

It lowered its head, saliva dripping onto Lin Jiang’s broken frame. But this was no ordinary fluid—it burned with power, sizzling as it touched his skin.  

As the dragon’s essence seeped into him, Lin Jiang’s body convulsed violently. A surge of energy coursed through his veins, igniting his chi. His body lifted from the ground, suspended in the air, glowing with a radiant blue light. The chamber filled with a hum, vibrating like strings plucked in unison.  

The energy core within him flared, enveloping him in a shimmering aura. The light illuminated the cavern, revealing jagged walls slick with crimson stains.  

“Incredible… this child is no ordinary mortal,” the dragon whispered, awe flickering in its crimson gaze. Its voice carried a tremor of wonder, rare and profound.  

Joy glimmered in its eyes. It had discovered a rare gift within Lin Jiang, a spark of destiny. The air itself seemed to pulse with anticipation.  

“Is this fate?” the dragon murmured, its tone softer, contemplative.  

It watched intently as Lin Jiang floated, his body bathed in light. The faint crackle of energy filled the silence, like fire consuming dry wood.  

“The wielder of the Blade of Darkness has been found. This boy will walk a long path of destiny,” the dragon declared, its voice resonant, filled with certainty.  

Its crimson eyes gleamed with anticipation, unable to conceal its excitement. The cavern seemed to tremble with its words.  

“I shall wait for him to awaken. Then I will ask if he accepts his fate,” the dragon vowed, its voice echoing like a promise carved into stone.  

*****

Lin Jiang, half-conscious, surrendered himself to the abyss. His body had been broken by the merciless kick that cast him into the chasm. The memory of pain lingered, sharp and unrelenting.  

Drifting through the endless corridor of shadow, he could do nothing. His strength was gone, his limbs heavy as lead. The silence pressed against him, broken only by the faint rush of unseen currents.  

Yet after what felt like eternity, he sensed energy flooding into him, mending his wounds, knitting his broken flesh. The sensation was warm, electric, coursing through him like fire.  

Slowly, his eyes opened. His vision blurred, but before him loomed the massive form of a dragon, its crimson gaze burning with wrath. The sight filled him with awe and terror, his breath catching in his throat.  

“Are you going to devour me?” Lin Jiang asked, his voice trembling yet bold, echoing faintly in the cavern’s oppressive silence.