2026-04-13 08:36:19A guttural laugh echoed through the cavern, its resonance vibrating against the jagged walls. “Devour you? Is that what you think?” sneered the crimson-eyed dragon, its voice rumbling like thunder aimed at Lin Jiang.
“Yes,” Lin Jiang shot back, his tone sharp yet trembling. “From the hunger in your gaze, I can tell you crave my flesh.”
“Foolish boy,” the beast growled, its breath hot and metallic. “It was you who stirred me from slumber. Had you not bled upon this soil, I would still be lost in dreams.”
Lin Jiang’s chest tightened as realization struck. His wounds—inflicted by his own brother and their allies—had reopened earlier, spilling blood across the ground. Yet now, as he glanced down, he found no trace of injury. Not only had his external cuts vanished, but the internal agony from the explosion within his body had dissolved as well.
“What happened to me?” he whispered, bewildered.
“I healed you,” the dragon declared, its eyes gleaming with ancient fire.
“You… healed me?” Lin Jiang’s disbelief cracked through his voice.
“Yes. I am no ordinary beast. I am a spiritual dragon.”
Lin Jiang’s breath caught. In the martial world, tales spoke of spiritual creatures—rare, revered, feared. Among them, none surpassed the dragon, the eagle, and the tiger. And here, before him, stood the mightiest of them all.
“So it was my blood that woke you?” Lin Jiang pressed.
“Indeed. Without it, I would still rest in silence.”
“Then perhaps fate has bound us together,” Lin Jiang murmured, his eyes narrowing.
The dragon’s laughter rolled like a storm. “You presume too much, child. Acceptance is not so easily won.”
“Tell me what I must do,” Lin Jiang demanded, his voice taut with urgency.
The cavern’s air thickened, the scent of damp stone mingling with the dragon’s sulfurous breath. Shadows flickered across the walls as the beast’s massive form shifted.
“First,” the dragon intoned, “you must embrace destiny as heir to the Blade of Eternal Darkness.”
Lin Jiang’s pulse quickened. “Blade of Eternal Darkness? What is that?”
“A weapon of immense power, steeped in shadow,” the dragon explained, its voice reverberating like distant drums.
“Where is it? I want to see this darkness for myself.”
“For now, the blade lies broken into three fragments: the Demon Sword, the Demon Sabre, and the Demon Staff.”
“Why was it divided?” Lin Jiang asked, his voice trembling with curiosity.
“Because its darkness is too great. United, it would bring calamity if wielded by unworthy hands.”
Lin Jiang’s throat tightened. “Then tell me what I must do.”
“As I said, you must accept your fate as its successor.”
“I accept,” Lin Jiang declared, his voice firm despite the tremor in his chest.
“Prove it,” the dragon commanded. “Let your blood sanctify the staff beside you.”
Lin Jiang turned, startled to see a silver staff standing upright, unmoving, as though rooted in the earth itself. Without hesitation, he bit his finger, letting a single drop of blood fall upon its tip.
The moment his blood touched the staff, a vision engulfed him: a vast ocean of darkness, endless and suffocating. Fear clawed at his heart, his breath catching in his throat.
“That is the abyss you will face should you misuse the blade,” the dragon warned.
“I will resist it,” Lin Jiang vowed. “What comes next?”
“Impatient boy,” the dragon scoffed. “You must strengthen yourself. At present, you linger at the fifth level of the Spirit Realm.”
“I know,” Lin Jiang replied, determination burning in his eyes. “But I will ascend swiftly.”
“Do not underestimate the path,” the dragon cautioned. “The journey to the Divine Emperor’s rank is long and arduous.”
“I understand,” Lin Jiang said, his voice steady.
“Then are you prepared to embrace your destiny?”
“Yes. I am ready.”
“Good. Seek the remaining fragments—the Demon Sword and the Demon Sabre.”
“Where are they?” Lin Jiang asked.
“The Demon Sabre lies buried in your world, hidden yet waiting. With the staff, you will find it.”
“My world? Where am I now?” Lin Jiang’s voice faltered.
The dragon’s laughter shook the cavern. “You dwell in the Netherworld.”
“The Netherworld?” Lin Jiang gasped.
“Yes. The realm of spirits.”
“That cannot be!” Lin Jiang cried.
“Why not?”
“Because that would mean I am dead!”
“For now, yes. Your body remains in your world, but your spirit lingers here.”
Lin Jiang’s mind reeled. “How is this possible?”
“The dimensional rift drew you here. It is the path fate has carved for you.”
“Then return me to my body!” Lin Jiang demanded.
“Are you certain?” the dragon asked, its voice low and dangerous.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Lin Jiang retorted.
“If I were you, I would train here until strength was assured. To return now would be folly.”
Lin Jiang fell silent. The dragon’s words rang true. His body, vulnerable and weak, would be prey to beasts and decay.
“What of my body?” he asked, fear gnawing at him. “Will it rot? Be devoured?”
He pictured the abyss where he had fallen, teeming with venomous creatures and predators.
“Once you bound yourself to the staff, your body was protected. It will grow as you grow here.”
“Is that true?” Lin Jiang whispered.
“Would I lie?” the dragon snapped.
Lin Jiang exhaled, relief mingling with resolve. “Then I will remain and train.”
“Excellent. Your first task: draw the staff from the earth.”
Lin Jiang grasped the staff, muscles straining as he pulled. But it resisted, immovable, its silver surface gleaming with defiance.
“It’s too strong,” Lin Jiang groaned.
The dragon’s laughter thundered. “Only one who has reached the Sky Realm can wield it.”
“So I must ascend before I can claim it?”
“Yes. But because you are now bound to me, I shall grant you my power.”
“Your power?” Lin Jiang’s eyes widened.
“Yes,” the dragon said, stepping closer. Its claws gleamed like obsidian blades.
With a swift motion, the dragon’s talon raked across Lin Jiang’s chest. Blood spilled, hot and metallic, staining the cavern floor.
Lin Jiang gasped as searing heat surged from the dragon’s touch, coursing through his veins like molten fire.
“Arggggg! It burns!” Lin Jiang screamed, his voice echoing into the abyss.
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Secrets of the Netherworld
Lin Jiang had already strengthened his defenses, and now he resolved to leave the cavern where he had fallen from the middle realm. “With the demonic staff finally in my grasp, my survival here will be far more secure,” he declared, stepping into the forest’s shadowed embrace. The boy knew this was no ordinary woodland. The air carried more than the musk of beasts—it pulsed with the sinister aura of spirits. From the moment he crossed its threshold, he felt unseen eyes watching, a weight pressing against his senses. “Am I truly within the spirit realm?” Lin Jiang whispered, uncertainty flickering in his eleven-year-old heart. He had always believed the spirit realm to be the final destination for mortals, not a place for wandering. Gresekkk! His sharp ears caught the rustle to his left. Instantly, his grip tightened on the silver staff, every nerve alert. “Who’s there?” he shouted, thrusting the weapon’s tip toward the sound. Silence answered him, heavy and suffocating.
Forging Defense
Several days had slipped by, and Lin Jiang remained steadfast in his training, tirelessly practicing the techniques of the Deadly Staff he had discovered within the chest of ancient scrolls. His palms bore the evidence of his devotion—skin thickened, hardened, and roughened, each callus a testament to his relentless pursuit of mastery. The once delicate hands of a youth now carried the weight of a warrior’s resolve. His movements grew sharper, more assured, each thrust and strike echoing with newfound confidence, though the rhythm of defense still eluded him. Defense, he believed, could only be tested against a worthy adversary. “Should I enter the forest? Perhaps I’ll encountera beast fierce enough to challenge me,” Lin Jiang whispered, his eyes narrowing as they fixed upon the shadowed expanse of trees ahead. Decision made, he stepped into the wilderness, alone, unguarded, his breath mingling with the earthy scent of damp soil and moss. As he ventured deeper, the demonic s
Awakening New Mastery
Lin Jiang pried open the ancient chest once more, its iron hinges groaning like a beast disturbed from slumber, and uncovered a collection of treasured scrolls. Among them lay one that immediately caught his eye—the manual of the Deadly Staff. “Could this be the guide to wield that demonic staff?” he murmured, his voice echoing faintly against the damp cavern walls. He unfolded the brittle parchment, its surface smelling faintly of aged ink and dust, and began to trace the instructions with his eyes. “This isn’t complicated,” Lin Jiang whispered, determination flickering in his gaze. The staff—Toya—was considered the simplest weapon in the martial world, a tool of both wanderers and soldiers alike. Its design was plain, yet its practicality unmatched. With only three fundamental movements—thrust, block, and strike—it was accessible to all. But in the hands of a master, the staff transformed into a weapon of devastating force, a silent storm that could overwhelm even the most s
Lin Jiang’s Legacy
“Aaahhh!” Lin Jiang’s cry ripped through the cavern, his body convulsing as the molten fire from the crimson-eyed dragon’s talons surged into his veins like liquid lightning. “Hahaha! Taste it, boy! This is your first ordeal, the crucible that will reveal whether your strength is more than mere words,” the dragon bellowed, its laughter reverberating like thunder rolling across a storm-ridden sky. The eleven-year-old collapsed, writhing against the jagged stone floor. His small frame twisted violently, desperate to escape the inferno raging inside him. The air reeked of scorched flesh and iron, thick and suffocating, each breath searing his lungs as though he were inhaling flames. BAMMM! Driven by agony, Lin Jiang lashed out blindly—striking boulders, shattered wood, even the cavern walls. His fists pounded until skin tore and blood smeared across stone. Each blow was a desperate attempt to purge the unbearable fire consuming him. The cavern echoed with the brutal rhythm of h
Fated Awakening
A guttural laugh echoed through the cavern, its resonance vibrating against the jagged walls. “Devour you? Is that what you think?” sneered the crimson-eyed dragon, its voice rumbling like thunder aimed at Lin Jiang. “Yes,” Lin Jiang shot back, his tone sharp yet trembling. “From the hunger in your gaze, I can tell you crave my flesh.” “Foolish boy,” the beast growled, its breath hot and metallic. “It was you who stirred me from slumber. Had you not bled upon this soil, I would still be lost in dreams.” Lin Jiang’s chest tightened as realization struck. His wounds—inflicted by his own brother and their allies—had reopened earlier, spilling blood across the ground. Yet now, as he glanced down, he found no trace of injury. Not only had his external cuts vanished, but the internal agony from the explosion within his body had dissolved as well. “What happened to me?” he whispered, bewildered. “I healed you,” the dragon declared, its eyes gleaming with ancient fire. “You… heale
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
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