Chapitre 1: Birth of a Demon.
The air was so thick with ashes that it was barely breathable. A deathly silence enveloped what was left of the village, as if even the wind had died with them. The charred remains of his home crunched under his feet, mixing with the pungent stench of burnt flesh and dried blood. Everything he had ever known, everything he loved, lay beneath an indifferent sky. The village was nothing more than an open corpse, slowly bleeding out.
Xie Ren walked among the ruins, each step dragging a weight he couldn't measure. His clothes, torn and covered in soot, hung from his body like the remnants of what he once was. But the true cold didn't come from the outside; it came from the depths of his being, a cold that seized his soul, suffocating what once had been hope. In his trembling hands, he held a bouquet of withered flowers. A useless offering for those who would never see them again.
The center of the village greeted him with the graves he had dug himself, hurried mounds now marking the spot where what was left of his family rested. The earth was still fresh, stained by the blood from his own hands, wounds he had ignored. The flowers slipped from his lifeless fingers, and the silence wrapped around him, suffocating any attempt at comfort.
He fell to his knees, as if the weight of his grief had finally crushed him. The memories struck him, each image more cruel than the last: his father's bloodied face, the screams of his siblings... images that burned in his mind like live coals, tearing him apart from within.
- Father... brothers... I'm sorry... – he murmured, his voice broken, as if the pain itself spoke through him. – Forgive me...
His hands dug into the cold earth, searching for a connection, some sign that they were still there, listening to him from wherever they might be. But the only thing that responded was emptiness. There were no answers, just a silence that devoured every word.
- I couldn't... I couldn't save you... – Tears ran down his dirt-streaked face, but they brought no relief. Every word was like a knife in his throat. – I promised... I'd protect you...
The pain was unbearable, an abyss that swallowed him whole. He was supposed to be the strong one, the eldest brother, the protector. But he hadn't been. He had watched them die, one after the other, and had been powerless to stop it. He had been weak, useless, a shadow incapable of keeping his promise. Guilt gnawed at his chest, each memory a stab that sank him deeper into despair.
But then, something else began to stir deep within him. At first, it was just a spark, a small flame of resentment. But that flame grew, fueled by the pain, until it became a blazing fire. Pain gave way to something else.
Rage.
The faces of the murderers formed clearly in his mind. Those demons in human form, who had reveled in watching his world crumble. Their cruel laughter, their eyes filled with scorn. To them, his suffering had been nothing but entertainment. He remembered the emblem on their backs, the cursed heron that marked everything. That symbol wasn't just an image in his mind; it was a wound that burned with the fire of vengeance.
The veins in his arms throbbed, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The rage built up, a dark current that wrapped around him, sucking away what little remained of who he had been. The air around him seemed to grow heavy, laden with pure hatred.
- I'll kill them... – his voice was barely a whisper, but each word dripped with venom. – I'll make them pay... in blood.
There was no room left for pain. Tears were meaningless now. The only thing that mattered was revenge. His body trembled with the intensity of the fury building up inside him, his eyes darkened with a single thought: destruction. That cursed heron would be the last symbol those demons saw before they fell.
- I swear... – he raised his head toward the gray, empty sky, his voice trembling, not with fear, but with the rage consuming him. – I swear on my family's graves that I will make them suffer a thousand times more than they did. I don't care if I have to face the heavens... I'll destroy them all!
The hatred wrapped around him like a dark shadow, smothering the last remnants of his humanity. His breathing was heavy, uneven, as he felt the fury take hold of his body. He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, opening new wounds. Blood dripped slowly, but Xie Ren didn't feel the physical pain. That pain was insignificant compared to the volcano of emotions roaring inside him.
His gaze, once empty, now burned with a fierce light. His eyes, red from crying, narrowed, and his jaw clenched to the point where his teeth ground audibly. His face, once filled with despair, was now twisted into an expression of pure determination. The muscles in his neck tensed as he raised his head toward the sky, as if daring the very stars to fall upon him.
- If the heavens are unjust, then I will defy them... – he murmured, his voice filled with venom and hatred. The words left his lips like a dark mantra, loaded with a promise of vengeance. Each word weighed like a rock, solid, unbreakable.
Xie Ren slowly raised his blood-stained hand to the sky. His fingers extended, smeared with his own blood, trembling not from fear, but from the fury consuming him from the inside out. It seemed as if he wanted to reach out to the firmament itself and rip the gods from their celestial thrones. The tendons in his arm stood out clearly under his dirty skin, vibrating with the tension of his oath.
- If fate is cruel, I will destroy it... – he continued, his voice now stronger, laced with a chilling coldness. The muscles in his body tightened to the limit, every fiber in him radiating a sense of imminent danger. He was on the verge of exploding, a bomb of rage and pain about to unleash.
His lips curled slowly into a twisted smile, a grimace devoid of any trace of humanity. There was no joy in that smile, only the cold satisfaction of someone who feared nothing anymore, not even the heavens.
He slowly lowered his hand, letting his fingers brush the cold earth where his family's graves rested. The sensation of the dirt between his fingers, mixed with the blood from his wounds, was a brutal reminder of his promise. I'll kill them, he thought, no matter how long it takes. I'll make them pay.
- I don't care if I become the enemy of the world – he whispered, his voice now a dangerous whisper that floated in the air. His chest rose and fell heavily, as if his very breath was trying to contain the fury within him. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the hatred fully engulf him, his body vibrating with the intensity of his vow.
When he opened them again, there was no longer any doubt in them. His gaze had changed; he was no longer the boy who cried for his family. He was something else, something darker, deeper. Xie Ren slowly stood up, his body trembling, but not from weakness, but from power. Every fiber of his being radiated deadly determination. The tears had dried, and the only thing left on his face was a cold, ruthless expression.
He looked once more at the makeshift graves in front of him, but there were no farewells. There was no room left for sorrow. Everything that had been Xie Ren was buried with them. Only a demon remained, ready to raze everything.
- I will fulfill my purpose – he murmured, with a smile that would freeze the blood of any onlooker. Then, he turned, giving his back to what was left of his home, without looking back. Each step he took seemed firmer than the last, as if each one sealed his fate. The wind blew faintly, lifting dust and ashes, but Xie Ren walked with his eyes fixed on the horizon, on his only goal: destruction.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone