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trauma

The Illusion of Heaven

After three hundred years as a legendary grandmaster in a glorious cultivation world, Zhung Hang dies peacefully in his death bed, only to awaken in a modern hospital bed. Doctors smile kindly and tell him it was nothing but a coma-induced dream. Stripped of every achievement, every bond, every shred of meaning, he returns to a life where no one ever truly wanted him. Parents who saw him as a burden. A little brother who died forgotten. Love that was never love. On a rainy night, he slits his throat and makes one final vow: “If reality is crueler than any dream, I will carve the next one with my own hands, even if I have to become something neither demon nor saint.” Death refuses him. He awakens again, reborn as an eight-year-old boy named Zhung in a third, far crueler world. Here, there is no qi, no spiritual roots, no merciful heaven. Power is measured by the **Nine Refinements of Will**, a brutal path where mortals must drink the fresh blood of divine or demonic beasts to tear open an **Aperture** inside their flesh. One wrong drop can leave you a conscious vegetable feeling eternal agony. One deep wound can strip a lifetime of progress in seconds. The final realm, Diamond, is called impossible for a reason. In this world, Zhung has only one light: his mother Zheng Han, the third and person in three lifetimes who has ever loved him without condition. For eight years he remains powerless, hiding behind a gentle smile while secretly feeding travellers to a beast in the forest cave, waiting for the day its blood will let him begin. He does not walk the righteous path. He does not walk the demonic path. He walks the **Broken Path**, a third road forged from the refusal to ever again be heaven’s tragic puppet. A dark, slow-burn xianxia of cosmic betrayal, quiet maternal love, and a soul that will gamble everything just to protect the one person who never asked him to be anything more than her son. The heavens wrote the first two tragedies. The third one will be his.
JemLazyTired · 12.2k Views

The trinity of Death

THE TRINITY OF DEATH: THE SWORDSMAN OF ROLLING HEADS “He jumped for the silence. He woke to the screams. He is the nightmare of the Angel’s dreams.” One leap from the roof to escape from the cold, One slap from an Angel, a fate to behold. He sought for the dark where the quiet souls dwell, But was cast to a world that is Heaven and Hell. He is Hexia, the man who died once and refused to do it again. A dual-casting paradox who mends the broken with his right hand and harvests the breathing with his left. He does not seek glory, and he does not want your gold; he only wants the silence that his first life once sold. The Litany of the Severed God: I. The Decree: When the tavern goes quiet and the air starts to thin, The dance of the Guillotine is about to begin. He offers a mercy that few live to tell: “Leave or else... Heads. Will. Roll.” II. The Sacrament: A 180-degree horizon of absolute steel, A strike so clinical the heart cannot feel. Before you can pray, before you can blink, The Guillotine severs the world from the brink. III. The Benediction: If the blade is too slow for the horde at the gate, He calls to the sky to accelerate fate. No chant and no circle, just ash in the air, As the Chaos Meteor answers your final prayer. Lhoralaine weeps for a love she betrayed; Sirenia fights for the man she has made. But as the Empire’s warrant is signed in his name, the Swordsman of Rolling Heads welcomes the flame. He survived the fall from the rooftop on high—now he’ll show the whole world how a legend should die. The Trinity is hungry. The ground must be fed. Blink while you can... for you’re already dead.
Jhunzkie_Rakabuba · 1.9k Views