The air was thick with the coppery smell of blood. All around, a wide, flat land was covered with the dead, their bodies twisted and broken.
In the center of this terrible scene stood a single man, silent and still. Twelve figures floated in the air around him, their powerful energy pressing down like a heavy weight.
Far away, the sky flashed with brilliant colors and the ground shook with deep rumbles.
A great battle was still being fought between the Black Heavens alliance and the righteous sects, but no one here paid it any mind.
The twelve warriors were focused on the man below, and the man simply did not care.
"It's over, Lin Yan," one of the floating figures called out, his voice booming across the wasteland. He was the leader of the Spirit Wind Sword Sect.
"You were never the true master, just a tool for your clan's real leader. Now, you will die like one. The Black Heavens will fall, and we will bring peace back to the world!"
In response, the man on the ground threw his head back and laughed. It was not a happy sound, but one filled with madness and emptiness.
His black robes were torn, his long black hair was messy, and his eyes glowed like two pools of fresh blood. The sect leader's face hardened.
Some of the others looked on with cold indifference, while a few scowled, angered by his disrespect.
"What is so funny?" another leader shouted, his voice shaking with rage. "You have killed so many, and you dare to laugh?"
Lin Yan's laughter died down, and he slowly shook his head. A crooked smile touched his lips, but it held no warmth. He looked up at the man who had spoken.
"I'm laughing because I remember someone saying something very similar to me, a long time ago," Lin Yan said, his voice strangely calm.
"'Accept your destiny, Lin Yan,' they told me. 'You are the weapon that will change the world.' And look," he gestured to the twelve of them.
"There were fifty of you when this started. Now, only twelve remain. I'd say I've done my job quite well."
"Enough talk," another figure declared, his voice like ice. "Your time has come."
As he spoke, the very air began to tremble. Energy flowed from the twelve masters, gathering in the sky above.
Bright, glowing symbols appeared in the air, one meaning 'to crush,' the other 'to punish.'
A moment later, a storm of purple lightning crashed down from the sky, aimed directly at Lin Yan.
But Lin Yan did not look scared. A joyful, almost eager smile spread across his face, though his blood-red eyes remained empty and cold.
He lifted one hand, and from it, a thick pillar of pure darkness shot up into the sky to meet the lightning head-on.
….
The battle was a blur of light and shadow. Finally, with a desperate, ragged breath, the leader of the Spirit Wind Sword Sect saw his chance.
He lunged forward, his sword wrapped in a spinning vortex of wind, and plunged it deep into Lin Yan's heart. For a single, fleeting moment, the sect leader felt a wave of victory. He had done it.
But then, his victory turned to pure terror. Lin Yan's neck stretched out like a snake, impossibly long, his head now right beside the sect leader's own.
Dark energy poured from his face like a foul mist. He opened his mouth wide and bit down hard on the sect leader's throat.
There was a wet, tearing sound. Lin Yan's head snapped back to its normal place, his mouth stained with blood.
The sect leader stumbled back, his hands flying to his neck, but it was useless. Blood sprayed from the wound like a fountain as he collapsed, his life fading away.
Using the life force he had just stolen, Lin Yan began to heal. He formed new limbs out of dark energy, reaching to pull the sword from his chest.
But before he could, more blades pierced his body, striking key points of his energy flow. He knew the technique instantly.
"The Nine Mystic Swords Sect…" he whispered, his strength failing. "So, it was you."
A figure appeared before him as if from nowhere. It was a girl, her face half-hidden by a mask, and a soft, white light glowed from her eyes.
In her hands, she held a beautiful, curved blue sword with a silver edge. With a single, graceful movement, she swung the blade.
Lin Yan's head tumbled to the ground. The reign of the Mad Ravager, who had brought the world to its knees, was over.
….
I opened my eyes, a deep emptiness hollowed out in my chest. I was looking up at a familiar purple sky.
This was my Soul Mirror, the world inside my own mind. But this was strange.
That girl's final attack should have completely destroyed my soul, making sure I could never come back by stealing someone else's body.
She must have made a mistake. A very big mistake.
Then I remembered her eyes. Through that soft white light, I had seen something. Was it… pity?
"How dare she pity me?!" I roared.
The world around me shook. I shot up from the sea of blood that made up my inner world. All around me, floating in the red liquid, were the bodies of everyone I had ever killed.
Their souls were trapped here with me. I was their God, and this was my kingdom.
Furious, I clenched my fists and began to walk across the surface of the blood. It was like walking on water.
I brushed my long, wet hair out of my face and tried to calm my rage as I headed for the center of this world.
My mother had been killed by a student from that girl's sect. I never knew who it was, but now I did. Now I had a face to go with my hatred.
When I return, when I continue the mission my mother gave me, I will find that girl. I will capture her soul, and I will show her every torture I have ever learned.
That is the price for killing my master, my purpose, my mother.
My feet finally touched solid ground. In the very center of the blood sea was a small, burnt island.
And on that island sat a throne, an exact copy of the one from my clan's great hall. It was black and purple, with a soft seat and a hard, high back.
But I did not sit on it. I sat on the charred ground beside it, leaning against the armrest.
My wet clothes stuck to my skin and my boots were full of blood, but none of that mattered. All that mattered was my mother, and her will.
Be my weapon, her voice echoed in my mind, as clear and powerful as if she were standing right here. Be the spear that pierces the hearts of my enemies.
Accept your destiny.
I remembered the day of my first kill. I was eight years old. A common man, captured for my training. I could still feel the warmth of his blood on my hands, the terror and hatred in his soul as I took his life. That feeling was now a part of me. I knelt on the ground and bowed my head low.
"Yes, my master," I whispered.
Your soul took my real son's body, her voice continued in my memory. I know this because your hair is black. A true heir of my clan has noble, silver hair.
"It is my sin," I said, bowing even lower, my forehead almost touching the ground. My existence was a crime, but it was a crime I would use to serve her will. Forever.