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Demon Island

Demon Island is a fantasy novel that tells the tale of an ordinary urban youth who, after inadvertently consuming a wish fruit from a strange realm, finds himself in the mysterious land of Demon Island. The story unfolds in a vividly fantastical world divided into four major regions: the Dragon Clan occupies the northern territory, the Demon Clan rules the west, the Ghost Clan governs the south, and the Human Clan resides in the Central Plains. In this realm, the forms of life are diverse and extraordinary, ranging from ethereal beings that transcend the cycles of life and death to demons that achieve immortality through various paths. The central plot of the novel revolves around the protagonist's adventures on Demon Island, brimming with elements of magic and exploration.

DaoistSmIuyR · Fantasi
Peringkat tidak cukup
154 Chs

The Heart of the Warrior of the Dead

Amidst the air reverberated the roars of two kings preparing for a duel. I was unfamiliar with the language of skeletons—this was not one of the twenty-six languages I had acquired. Judging by their demeanor, however, it was clear that their words were far from cordial; perhaps they were exchanging vulgarities, questioning each other's manhood in the most crude terms.

I sheathed my twin swords, intending to catch my breath and assimilate the death energy harvested from the recent battle when, without warning, a bone whip lashed out, striking my shoulder with immense force. The training I had endured through pain finally bore fruit; I suppressed the tumultuous blood energy surging within me, deftly seized the whip, and yanked it with all my might.

From beneath the lengthy whip emerged a creature I had never encountered before. It possessed a rotund body supported by six delicate claws, with a large bony antenna protruding from its head, emitting a series of sharp, whistling sounds. As I engaged it in a tug-of-war, I knew I could not afford to wrestle for my weapon. Channeling my mental energy, I summoned the Death Breath from my waist, breaking free from its constraints, and with lightning speed, I thrust it into the creature, pinning it to the ground. 

A torrent of death energy surged forth, unparalleled in purity compared to any undead I had previously vanquished. It felt as though the death energy within me had been ignited by a powder keg, exploding violently before contracting into a minuscule focal point. In that instant, my skeletal guise vanished entirely.

Cursed be this fate! At that moment, I sensed the piercing gazes of countless eyes from the ominous clouds above, a chilling realization dawning upon me: I was being scrutinized by hundreds of thousands of skeletal warriors on Skull Island, and death would come to me in a most undignified manner.

Time seemed to slow, and the roars of the two titans faded into oblivion. It was only when the sky and sea erupted in a cacophony of tearing sounds, the atmosphere lamenting, that I was jolted back to reality. The clash between the lord of Skull Island and the powerful specters of the ocean commenced. My Death Breaths had vanished, the bone whip I had clutched was nowhere to be found, and the death energy had inexplicably dissipated. Yet, within my chest flickered a wavering, ghostly blue flame, teetering on the brink of extinction, quietly blossoming.

What is this? 

With my skeletal disguise lifted, I found my being utterly hollow. The nameless true energy transformed into death energy, along with the platinum glory, could not revert, for that death energy had also vanished. 

With little else to do but silently pray and accelerate my cultivation of the nameless martial arts, I sought to accumulate more true energy. Fortunately, both armies had retreated; otherwise, any encounter with a skeletal soldier would have ended in disaster. 

I rummaged through my possessions, recalling that I had a treasure with a camouflage effect. Without regard for the battlefield, I summoned the Book of Demons, and the first thing I laid eyes upon was the skeletal war spear. Remembering that there were still fifty skeletal knights, I was filled with elation; they would make excellent guardians.

However, as I grasped the skeletal war spear, the ghostly blue flame within me surged violently, extending to my hand. The spear vanished in an instant. 

Kicking the skeletal shell, I realized that this flame could consume objects! 

Upon this realization, I understood the fate of the Death Breaths and the bone whip. The ghostly blue flame had devoured the skeletal war spear, leaving it in a half-dead state. It flickered precariously, threatening to extinguish. I pondered and retrieved a bow and arrow I had taken from a skeletal archer. Sure enough, the ghostly blue flame flared once more, but this time I would not allow it to have its way. 

Since it resided within me, it would heed my command. I would discover its true nature! 

As I wrapped my mental energy around the extending ghostly blue flame, I soon realized its complexity—it was a form of power I had never encountered before. My mental energy could not restrain it for long; the bow and arrow quickly became its next meal. I continued to experiment with several items. 

I discovered that it only showed interest in weapons seized from the warriors of Skull Island, such as the long knife of the ancient moon. It disregarded everything else. Yet, these trials revealed that I could control it. When I ceased to resist, the ghostly blue flame seamlessly merged with my spirit, creating a profound sense of unity.

The ghostly flame gradually enveloped my entire being. With a mere thought, the two Death Breaths returned to my grasp, and with a flicker of intention, they transformed back into the skeletal war spear. My exploration of its mysteries made me forget the fierce battle between Skull Island and the ghostly fleet.

You are quite intriguing; I have never witnessed a living soul wield the heart of a warrior of the dead. 

Who dares approach? 

The two Death Breaths clashed in a dazzling arc, yet before me lay nothing but emptiness. A man of remarkable poise, clad in an exquisitely tailored suit, strolled past me, despite the fact that moments ago, that direction had been devoid of any presence.

"Greetings, I am Mostima," he introduced himself. "One of the masters of Skull Island, an old friend of Horus. It is a pleasure to meet you, brave young man."

A master of Skull Island, an old friend of Horus? That could only refer to the seven ancient fiends residing on the island! 

I instinctively assumed a combat stance, but Mostima merely waved his hand, speaking softly, "Let us first observe the battle between King Xu and the Abyssal Ice Sea Dragon. You must understand that such encounters occur only once in decades; they are exceedingly rare." 

I dared not blink, my gaze fixed on him. What battle? The man before me was far more perilous than either of those two; at least he was much closer, and I needed not choose which threat was greater.

"Oh, I see you have no interest in that battle. Very well, I have been observing you for quite some time. However, as you are brought here by Horus, I cannot act against you."

"You killed my pet, Didi—the little creature you struck with the bone whip. I believe I have grounds to request some compensation."

"As long as you do not leave me on the island as a pet, we can negotiate."

Effective communication is one of the most effective means to resolve issues. Since my adversary had not attempted to seize me, I too would not reject the opportunity for dialogue. It would be foolish to forgo conversation when it was available; once the other party turned hostile, there would be no chance for negotiation left. 

It is best to avoid such foolishness. At the very least, I sensed a flicker of goodwill from him—an absurd notion of goodwill.