The Risen Ghost: Master of the Chaotic Origin

Chapter 1 (The fall of Long clan) Chen’s POV

It was the last day I remember what being human felt like.

My sixteenth birthday ceremony— the day of my awakening.

Born with the Primordial marrow humming inside me, I was seen as the Destiny of the Great Yan Empire.

“Chen, it’s time,” Mei Ling, my little sister, whispered with a smile as she stepped into my room.

Fifteen years of preparation led to this day. Dressed in the royal regalia that sat perfectly on me, I felt the Long clan’s weight settled on my shoulders.

I stepped out of my chambers into the processionway—my steps heavy and dignified.

When I entered the Ancestral hall, all heads turned in my direction, and silence swept through the room, as if I was part of the heavenly beings.

Across the hall was my father, the emperor, swelled with pride, sitting imperially on his throne.

At the blare of the trumpet, all but my father rose as I entered the hall. I seated myself beside him on the high dias and only then did the coalition of seven— leaders of the Empire’s most prestigious sects and clans, bowed in unison, a reverence I later understood was feigned.

“To the future of the Great Yan Empire !” Wei Jue’s voice boomed, resonant and warm. He raised a jade goblet toward the high dais. "To the boy born with the heavens in his bones!"

A roar of cheers swept through the crowd, followed by applause and the bright clink of jade goblets. With my empire at my back, I possessed nothing but advantage— my future already secured, my rise effortless, a life almost embarrassingly easy for an heir.

"Drink, Chen," my father whispered, his eyes crinkling with pride. He lifted his own cup. "Tonight, you cease to be my son and become the Empire’s destiny."

Another cheer rose.

The ceremony proceeded as anticipated. While everybody enjoyed the celebration, I was waiting for midnight— the most auspicious hour chosen by the oracles of old for the awakening of my divine energy.

After the first goblet was emptied, Wei Jue, my father’s sworn brother came with a gourd of rare vintage Heavenly Dew, supposedly aged for a century.

“Your majesty, let me pour you a drink,” He offered with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

My father happily accepted, and so did I.

The moment the liquor hit my throat, the marrow’s hum vanished. A fierce heat seared my spine and then everything inside me froze.

I almost lost it for a moment, thinking I was having an early awakening but the sound of my father’s goblet shattering against the stone floor drew my attention.

I rushed to him as he fell. He tried to stand but his legs gave way. A dark, viscous purple crawled up his throat, as if his spiritual core was being torn out. I knew immediately what it was.

Poison.

Not just him— the whole Long clan had been poisoned.

I saw my kinsmen retching, the same dark liquid spilling from them as they collapsed to the ground.

“Father!” I reached out trying to pick him up but my hands were trembling. The whole world tilted. The heat in my spine turned into shards of ice.

The music stopped—and the dancers I thought were mere performers weren’t. They drew swords beneath their robes in unison.

With a roar of effort, the Long Clan guards drew their swords, but the Seven-Sect Coalition was faster. The "Coalition of Seven" had not come to celebrate; they had come to harvest. The air became a storm of Qi and steel. The "Spirit-Sapping Herbs" in the wine had turned the legendary Long warriors brittle— easily destroyed with a single blow.

As their bodies hit the ground cold silence poured into the hall.

Wei Jue didn’t move to help; instead, he bent down beside me, his fist resting on his chin with a smug smile on his face.

“I knew just one full goblet of venomous vintage wouldn’t be enough to break you completely, Chen,” His voice was cold but I could still feel his acknowledgement.

He turned to my dying father with a terrifying mixture of mockery and greed.

“You were always too righteous, Wusheng,” He murmured. “The Heavens and Yan Empire need a brutal leader, not just a Lawbringer.”

I could feel my father trembling with anger and grief.

“H.. how could you?” My father pushed the words out with pain in voice.

“You don't have to look so pained. Trust is a luxury not befitting for a ruler,” Wei Jue’s voice was low but predatory.

“You’re not fit for whatever you're dreaming of, Wei Jue. You can't..” A harsh cough stopped the rest of my father’s sentence.

But he said just enough to trigger Wei Jue’s anger.

“I will build a new legacy. The Long clan has been ruling for three centuries boasting of keeping the demons at bay. Wusheng, I will do it better than you,” Wei Jue declared in anger, his eyes blazing with unrivaled ambition as he unsheathed his sword.

“Wei Jue, I command you to spare my heirs, they have nothing to do with your greed,” My father’s croaked voice was the last thing I heard before Wei Jue’s sword pierced through his heart.

“I’ve gone too far to spare anyone, brother,” Wei Jue spat.

A thousand emotions surged through me when my father’s breath went silent— pain, anger, fear, all of it. I pushed myself to crawl to where he was lying but a heavy boot slammed into my back.

Wei Jue pinned me down. “Where do you think you’re going, chosen one?”

He pulled a ritualistic dagger from his blade strap and pressed me down so I couldn’t move.

"They say the Primordial Marrow is divine ," Wei Jue hissed in my ear. "Let’s see how divine it feels when I tear it from you.”

He dug the dagger into my spine, tearing my flesh harshly. The pain was beyond physical. It was the feeling of my soul being unraveled, inch by inch. As Wei Jue ripped the shimmering, golden essence from my body, the heavens responded with thunder.

I felt empty. My vision blurred.

“Chen!” I heard Mei Ling crying, but I could barely open my eyes.

“Take the girl,” Wei Jue commanded and Mei Ling who was being held by two sect Elders was dragged away.

“And throw this forbidden gift into the God-Grave Valley. Let the deities he was meant to join feed on his remains." He added and I heard his steps receding.

I didn’t know how long we traveled, but after a stop. I felt the cold air of the Forbidden Valley filling my lungs as I was tossed from the cliff. My last sight of the mortal world was the Northern Citadel—my home—engulfed in flames, the sound of my sister’s scream still echoing in my head.

My body hit the lethal mist of the valley. My bones shattered, my essence gone and the hole in my back raw and gnawing into my end, my flesh melting at the touch of the mist.

I became a ghost even before I stopped breathing.