"Zhāo, please… wake up!"
The boy could barely hear Ruò Yún's desperate voice. His fiancée was shaking his stiff body, but his mind refused to return from the void.
"You're all I have left, Zhāo… please…" Her sobs cut through the silence.
But then—another voice echoed inside his head, louder, colder.
[Zhāo Han.]
"Who's there?"
[We can feel your rage. Your family, your people, your kingdom… all gone.]
Heat flared in Zhāo's chest. His anger boiled, drowning out Ruò Yún's cries.
[Do you wish for vengeance?]
[Is your hatred great enough to strike down those who stole everything from you?]
"Yes!" His voice thundered in the darkness. "Even if I die, I will rise from hell itself to drag them into eternal torment!"
[Good…]
[Very good.]
"I want power. Enough to repay every drop of blood!"
[Then we shall guide you. Your wrath will shake the world. A holy war will burn in your name. Your legend will be etched across generations.]
[Unleash it. Spread your pain. Make the world kneel before you.]
"I submit… to your will."
[Rise, Zhāo.]
[Rise, Chosen One.]
[Rise from death, Shèntiān!]
Zhāo's eyes snapped open. Gasps filled the cavern. His eyes glowed an eerie green, radiating fury.
"Zhāo! Thank the heavens—you're awake!" Ruò Yún cried with joy and threw her arms around him.
But instead of embracing her, Zhāo's hands locked around her throat.
"Zhāo—w-what are you doing—aghk!" Her face turned pale, her lips trembling for breath as her tears of relief became tears of agony.
"It's me, Ruò Yún… you're hurting me…"
Her voice pierced through his rage. Zhāo blinked, horrified, and released her at once. Ruò Yún collapsed, coughing and gasping desperately for air.
"Ruò Yún… no… I-I didn't mean—"
A blade flashed.
Zhāo stiffened as a massive, red-skinned warrior pressed a black knife to his chest.
"You…" Zhāo remembered the shadowed figures before his collapse. "Who are you?"
The man studied him, then lowered the blade. "My name is Lóng Xuán Huanran. Welcome… to the lands of the Mínggǔ Tribe."
Zhāo's brows furrowed as he looked around. The cavern shimmered with scattered crystals, and he realized he had been lying on the largest one. Dozens of red-skinned people surrounded him—warriors, survivors, all armed.
"Where… is this? Why am I here?"
"You were dying," Lóng Xuán said flatly. "We brought you back."
"Brought me… back?" Zhāo frowned. "How?"
"I know who you are, Zhāo Han," Lóng Xuán continued calmly. "Prince of Qīngliǔ. Son of Bào Zhāng Han—the cruel king who ruled without mercy."
Rage exploded in Zhāo's chest. His fists clenched.
"Insult my father again and I'll cut out your tongue!"
Lóng Xuán smirked, almost amused. "So much fire. Perhaps you should be grateful instead—I did save your life."
Their eyes locked, tension thick in the air. A strange chill ran down Lóng Xuán's spine as if unseen eyes were watching.
"Lóng Xuán!" A stocky, muscular man burst through the doorway. "The Matriarch summons you!"
Zhāo flinched. His glowing eyes widened.
Strings.
Fine, translucent strings stretched from the bodies around him—Lóng Xuán, Ruò Yún, the newcomer. They shimmered in his sight, pulling at the edges of reality.
Zhāo reached for them. His fingers passed through empty air.
"What… is this?" he muttered.
"Zhāo, are you alright?" Ruò Yún's voice trembled.
"Ruò Yún… can't you see them? These strings?"
"Strings? What are you talking about?"
Only he could see them.
And then something stranger: he could feel her emotions. Beneath her worry, she was afraid.
"You're scared," Zhāo whispered, his voice cutting sharp. "Not just worried for me… but afraid of what I just did to you."
Ruò Yún's face paled. She lowered her gaze, ashamed. "I-I'm sorry, Zhāo. You nearly killed me. For a moment, I thought… you weren't yourself."
Zhāo's expression darkened. He touched his back—where the sword wound should have been. Nothing. His flesh was whole, his strength overflowing, his emotions surging like a storm.
"What happened to me…?"
Around his neck, a glowing green crystal pulsed with light.
"This?" Zhāo gripped it tightly.
"When I woke up, we were already here," Ruò Yún explained softly. "That man saved us. If not for him, we'd both be dead."
Zhāo chuckled coldly. "Then perhaps I should still cut out his tongue—for speaking ill of my father."
"Zhāo!" Ruò Yún gasped. His tone was colder, harsher than before.
Zhāo ignored her, his suspicions burning. "No one saves strangers for nothing. They want something from me."
Her silence confirmed it.
"They said you're… someone they've been waiting for," Ruò Yún admitted.
Zhāo froze. His parents had once spoken of it—of cannibals said to live underground. His father had hunted for them, but never found proof.
And yet… here they were.
"Damn it!" Zhāo grabbed Ruò Yún's hand, trying to bolt.
But they didn't make it far. Red-skinned warriors encircled them in an instant.
"Move aside!" Zhāo roared.
Hands seized his arms, locking him in place. Ruò Yún was restrained beside him.
"Where are you taking us!?" Zhāo shouted.
"To your destiny, Zhāo Han," Lóng Xuán answered coldly. "As the one chosen by the heavens, you must meet our Matriarch."
Zhāo's heart pounded.
Envoy of the heavens…?