Ch 8: A Peaceful Rebellion

In a small, half-destroyed cottage, nestled at the very outskirts of the Heavenly Demon Sect, a young boy of only ten years lived alone. His bright cerulean eyes, filled with both wisdom and quiet melancholy, contrasted sharply with his long, flowing black hair that framed a face so strikingly handsome it could rival the gods. Despite never having formally trained in martial arts, his body was a marvel of natural refinement... each muscle well-defined, a testament to the inherent power lying dormant within him.

Yes, you guessed it, this was the same child who had once been hailed as the prodigy of the Heavenly Demon Sect, the son of its most feared leader. But much had changed since then. The boy, now older, sat quietly on a makeshift bed that creaked under his weight, though it had long since lost any comfort it might have once provided.

The mattress was thin, the frame uneven, yet it was still the place he called home. It was the one spot in the world where he could be himself, away from the prying eyes and expectations that suffocated him.

He sighed, his thoughts spiraling into the familiar abyss of frustration. His name was Cheon Meng, a name that carried with it all the grandeur and expectation that he had come to resent. It was a name whispered with awe and fear, a name meant to signify his destiny as the heir to the Heavenly Demon. But to him, it was nothing more than a burdensome title, a constant reminder of the path he was supposed to follow, a path he had rejected.

As he sat on his worn-out bed, Cheon Meng found himself once again questioning the life that had been laid out before him.

"The grandeur… the power… I never wanted any of that," he muttered to himself, his voice tinged with bitterness. He ran a hand through his long hair, trying to soothe the turmoil within.

"The techniques of the Heavenly Demon, they say… Be ruthless… Kill without hesitation, just for the thrill of it. But why? Why should I be someone who takes life so carelessly, who revels in the suffering of others?"

His gaze shifted to the small, solitary window of his cottage. The outside world beckoned, calm and serene, untouched by the violence and bloodshed that had become synonymous with his father's name.

"I'd rather stay mortal," he whispered, a quiet defiance in his voice,

"and live a peaceful life, away from all of this madness."

Despite the cottage's worn and weathered state, the location it occupied was nothing short of idyllic. The surrounding nature was untouched by the harshness of the world beyond, a tranquil oasis where the boy could escape the pressures of his birthright.

The small stream that wound its way past the cottage sang a soothing melody, its waters clear and pure. The trees, tall and ancient, stood like silent guardians, their leaves rustling gently in the breeze, creating a symphony of calm that eased the tension in Cheon Meng's heart.

This place was his sanctuary, a world apart from the brutality that defined the Heavenly Demon Sect. Here, he could live simply, quietly, without the constant fear of being judged or forced into a life he did not want.

It was not that he lacked the ability to become what his father desired... if anything, his natural physique and the power that simmered beneath the surface of his being hinted at a potential far greater than any of his peers. But that was precisely the problem.

He didn't want to be like them. He didn't want to become the monster that the Heavenly Demon Sect revered.

Cheon Meng's thoughts drifted to the lessons he had been taught, the doctrines of the sect that demanded loyalty, strength, and ruthlessness.

"Be ruthless," they said.

"Strike down your enemies without mercy." But he couldn't help but feel repulsed by these teachings. There was no honor, no satisfaction in taking the life of another simply because he could. What kind of life was that? What kind of existence did it lead to?

"Why must strength be measured by the number of lives taken?" he wondered aloud, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Why can't strength be the ability to protect, to preserve life, instead of destroying it?"

His hands clenched into fists, frustration bubbling up once more. It wasn't just the teachings he despised; it was the entire ideology that the Heavenly Demon Sect was built upon. Power for power's sake, violence as a means to an end... these were not the values he wanted to embody. Yet, despite his rejection of these ideals, they continued to haunt him, a shadow that loomed over his every thought.

"Perhaps I'm a coward," he mused bitterly.

"Perhaps I'm simply too weak to embrace what I was born into." But deep down, he knew that wasn't true. It wasn't fear that drove his refusal to train, to become the heir his father wanted. It was a profound belief that there was more to life than power, more to existence than the endless cycle of death and conquest.

His thoughts were interrupted by the soft chirping of birds outside, their song a stark contrast to the dark musings that plagued his mind. He rose from the bed, walking over to the small window. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the landscape. The sight was beautiful, peaceful... everything he wished his life could be.

As he watched the sunset, a small, determined smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"I may not be what they want me to be," he murmured,

"but I am who I choose to be. And that's enough."

Cheon Meng knew that his path would not be easy. The world around him, the expectations of his father, and the demands of the sect would not simply disappear because he wished it so.

But for now, in this moment, he allowed himself to bask in the simple joys of life... the warmth of the setting sun, the gentle breeze, and the peace that came from knowing he was living on his own terms.

And as the last rays of the sun dipped below the horizon, Cheon Meng made a silent vow to himself. He would find a way to live the life he desired, a life that did not involve mindless killing or the pursuit of power for its own sake.

He would carve out a place for himself in this world, no matter how difficult, no matter how much opposition he faced.

For now, he was content to remain in his humble cottage, surrounded by the tranquility of nature. But deep within his heart, a seed had been planted... a seed of rebellion, of quiet defiance against the fate that had been thrust upon him. And as that seed took root, Cheon Meng knew that his journey was only just beginning.