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The Game Of Realms

A mad man has torn down the gates of the underworld. The malicious abyss is alive, and it stares back... ** Zero, a crippled and one handed teenager with a drastically grim outlook on life, has been granted a deadly second chance. Attacked and killed by a mysterious power, Zero wakes up again to find himself in his body that was close to becoming a corpse. Beside him, he finds a scroll with a hefty task and the eyeball of a dead god once known as the Yanluo of hell. "Consume the eye, find the Core of Naraka and begin your odyssey," said the scroll. "You are living on borrowed time. With every full moon that passes, a taste of the horrors of hell shall eat at a bit of your mortal soul. Till you are a slave to your own flesh." Seeing these words, Zero wished to be dead once more. ** Cultivatiors are gods in this world corrupted by darkness, looked upon by the common people as figures of holiness. Yet they are far from that. Tainted by their desire to touch the realm of immortals and break from the cycle of Samsara, cultivators are worse than the demon kind. When word gets out that the god of hell has passed, killed by an unknown power, the cultivation world goes into chaos. Finding the power source of hell, the Core of Naraka, would mean becoming a deity. Now who wouldn't want to become a god? The immortals in the realms above and below have chosen their pawns; hell's power is far too grand to pass on. A dangerous game is about to unfold. Follow Zero, an ordinary mortal. A pawn piece picked by the realm of hell itself to walk the tumultuous path of the dead, face crazed cultivators and immortals, challenge gods and bring down monstrosities of hell. Son of Naraka, choose your class and break the cycle of Samsara! ______________________________ NEW CHAPTERS EVERY DAY! (Only school stuff and emergencies will delay updates.) TRIGGER WARNING: THIS BOOK CONTAINS EXTREMELY DETAILED SCENES OF VIOLENCE, GORE AND THE LIKE. READERS' DISCRETION IS HIGHLY ADVICED. Ps. MC doesn't start out a villain immediately. That's a character development that'd take time. This story is slow paced for optimum development. No, the MC isn't going to start breathing fire or flying instantly. There are no filler chapters. Everything is connected. Happy reading!

Nyx_the_Cat · Huyền huyễn
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
41 Chs

Demon

The wagon smelt of cow dung.

Probably because it was filled to the brim with it. Zero sat in a corner of the wagon, a hand across his nose, the other over his hat.

He was beginning to feel tired. He was waning.

How many weeks had passed since the incident at the slavers' camp? The moon had begun to show her pale face. It was a half-moon that night and Zero felt sick. Even the excrement in the wagon with him didn't seem to sicken him as his waning yin form did.

'Should I have chosen the soup ladle class then?'

Zero sighed then let go of his nose. The stench crawled up his lungs.

Bao had successfully hooked him into whatever scheme of the imperials was unfolding. What the old man didn't know was that, somehow, the appearance of that Soul Ceaser was the cause of the monk's death.

The boy shook his head. Soul Ceaser was not attracted to yang, or human life. Why would it attack a monk?

And if it attacked, why the inscription in blood? What was the goal?

Many questions lingered in his thoughts but answers came not. He was too tired to think of these things and focused on the new plan.

Old Bao and Lady Su had instructed him to deliver the message to the prince whose convoy was at least a day ahead now. They were moving slowly as the snow did not permit much travel progress. Jin city was at least a month away.

He was to get close enough to the prince, explain the terms and deliver two copies of a parchment of agreement that Bao drafted up. They had already been signed by the old innkeeper.

Once the prince's seal had been collected on both, he would leave one copy and travel back with the other. Only then would he be free to go.

It was quite counter productive for him as he was to head to Jin city himself. Zero had no choice but to follow through. His problems were already enough as it was. He did not plan to invoke another.

When he asked old Bao how sure he was that the prince would take the offer, the man laughed.

"Not a single soul, no matter how righteous, would turn down even the lowliest of Sukho cultivation methods."

Another long and weary sigh left his mouth. That was a mistake because he took a huge breath through his mouth after. Zero ended up coughing the stench out.

Lady Su did not seem to like him one bit. If she did, he would not be travelling with faeces. He drew his hat lower over his face. "Perfect means to carry sensitive messages," she had told him.

Darn right.

He shut his eyes, hoping to get some sleep at least.

Time passed. Zero could see nothing but indistinct shadows as he dreamt. It was like being in that horrible void again.

Even sleeping felt like torture.

A bump in the road sent shit flying his way and woke him up. Before he could process anything, the cow dung had splashed over his coat. He groaned softly and brushed it off. It was day time.

The cart had stopped.

"The prince's camp is just ahead now, you can make your way to the clearing without me," said a voice. It was the cart driver, a low rank Qi novice from Bao's creed. Zero had come to understand that the Bao inn was a refuge for Qi practitioners who were either in exile or on the run.

Also, the inn could move locations at times but only after a careful ritual of some sorts.

He stood, legs numb from sitting still for who knew how long. He took a look over the hill they were on. The entirety of what he could see was covered in snow. And there were miles and miles of land.

His village was all he had ever known. Seeing such grand land mass was new.

In a distance not too far, he could see the camp. His sharp vision could pick up the fact that they were preparing to leave.

The quicker he could find the prince, the better. He didn't want to go too far from River's End.

He jumped down from the dung pile then bowed slightly to the cart driver who said, "you smell like cow arse." Zero said nothing to this and began descending the hill. The slope was not too stiff.

On the bright side, his stench made him pass off as a servant quite well.

He walked through the sparse forest that covered the land. His boots crunched softly on the snow. The tiredness was getting worse. Even sleep did not remedy it. He would have to...feed. But on what? The voice had been oddly quiet since the last full moon. There were no directions as to what he should do.

If he was given such he huge task, at least there should be assistance, no? The boy let out another sigh. He trudged forawrd.

When he got to the camp, he first hid behind a tree, watching out for guards. There were none here. Only servants who were in the process of packing up the tents. The main convoy were at the very front of the camp. The men mounted their horses and the women they came with, entered their palanquins.

All this to decree that an old man was free from exile? Zero was not conversant with political traditions but even at that. It seemed quite strange for such a huge party to deliver a small message.

Was the prince not concerned for his safety?

Why would he embark on such a journey for a man he did not respect?

Zero shrugged it off and dashed forward silently. He snuck into one of the remaining tents that still stood, making sure he stayed out of sight.

There was someone inside. A young woman. She was startled.

"Ah! Who are you?"

Blast. He clenched his jaw. Careless. If it was one of the imperial men, he would have been in big trouble.

She was in her undergarments and her face was a bright shade of red. He tilted his head down. "I apologize. I...I have a message for the prince. I was sent by...uh...a sect."

The woman who had now gained her bearings stood erect.

"And which sect is that?" She asked. Zero noticed that her voice had become firm. He observed her feet. They were a milky white but full of cuts and scabs.

She was a fighter. Probably a martial artist. His presence had only startled her.

"The sect I come from and my message is none but the prince's concern. I will like to see him. "

She huffed then. The next thing he knew, she had marched up to him and whipped his hat off his head. It stung as the ropes loosened with force.

She stepped back.

"Demon."

Zero immediately started shaking his head. "No. No I am...a Mutated. I have no ill intentions I swear."

The woman was not convinced. She opened her mouth and called for the guards. Zero dashed out immediately. Why did old Bao think he would make a good messenger?! He who was nothing but a cripple from a backwater village. How was he to have any experience?!

He sped into the forest parallel to the clearing, using his sight to pierce through in search of the prince. He spotted a group of Han sect people ahead. What was this? They had all left their horses and were gathered around something.

He slowed down to catch his breath then climbed up a tree. He found it easier to do this time. From a height, he could finally see what had happened.

In the middle of the gathering, the young prince Qinshan convulsed. His eyes were fully white and his hands scratched at his neck as though he was trying to claw out the discomfort in his throat.

Guards ran this way and that, the imperials he had come with shouted orders right and left. Sabers and long swords were drawn as they searched the area. The physician in the camp rushed to the scene, ready to aid.

Qinshan wailed to the sky and his voice sounded like there were nails in his throat.

The physician tried to stop him from nicking his throat but it was of no use. The prince rose and ran away from the gathering. The strongest guards ran after him but he was faster. He pulled at his throat, screeching still.

Zero watched with a calm mind. This event would surely not end well.

And indeed it did not. Qinshan gave a final and reverberating scream, then dug his fingers deep into his throat and ripped it. What gushed out was a multitude of scorpions with tiny pieces of flesh in their pincers, accompanied by a torrent of blood.

The prince's dead body fell with a thud.

He would have missed it then had he not been sensitive in the eyes. He would have taken it to be a trick of the light. But it was clear what he saw.

A yellowed parchment paper with characters written in red ink torn to pieces and floating in the cool winds.

He looked far west, to his left. Beneath the trees was a hooded rider.

A woman's voice interrupted his thought process. Her words were shaky as she fought tears.

"I saw a demon in the camp. He has killed my brother."