章節 7: Ch 7: "Trash" Son of The Heavenly Demon
The newborn child was carried through the labyrinthine corridors of the Heavenly Demon Sect by a group of anxious yet reverent servants. Their footsteps echoed faintly off the cold stone floors as they approached the heart of the sect, a place of awe and terror known to all who resided within its vast domain.
The journey through the palace was a solemn procession, one that symbolized not only the birth of a new life but also the continuation of a fearsome legacy.
The palace was an architectural marvel, designed to inspire both reverence and dread. The path to the central hall was lined with towering black pillars, each one hewn from the purest obsidian.
The polished stone reflected the flickering light of the torches that lined the walls, casting eerie, shifting patterns on the floor. Intricate carvings of golden dragons adorned the pillars, their serpentine forms twisting and spiraling upwards as if they were ascending to the heavens themselves. These dragons, symbols of the sect's unparalleled power, seemed almost alive, their eyes gleaming with an otherworldly light as they watched the servants pass by.
At the end of the corridor stood the main doors of the central hall... massive, imposing, and exuding an aura of absolute authority. The doors were a masterpiece of craftsmanship, carved from ancient wood that had been strengthened with layers of enchanted metals. Golden patterns, woven with ancient runes, decorated the surface, shifting and changing under the gaze of those who looked upon them. These doors were not merely an entrance; they were a barrier that separated the mundane from the extraordinary, a gateway to the throne room of the Heavenly Demon.
The servants, carrying the newborn child with the utmost care, approached the doors and knelt before them, their heads bowed low in submission. The air around them was thick with anticipation, and even the most seasoned among them could not fully mask their nervousness. This was no ordinary child, they carried the son of the Heavenly Demon, the most feared and revered figure in all the Mortal Realm.
"We humbly request an audience with the Heavenly Demon," one of the servants called out, his voice steady but tinged with the gravity of the moment.
For a heartbeat, there was silence, as if the entire palace held its breath. Then, with a deep, resonant groan, the massive doors began to open. A wave of powerful energy surged forth from within, flooding the corridor with an overwhelming aura that sent shivers down the spines of all who felt it. The very air seemed to crackle with power, as if the presence behind those doors was too great to be contained.
Inside the grand hall, seated upon a throne carved from the darkest stone, was the figure who commanded this incredible power... the Heavenly Demon. His presence was as imposing as the palace itself, a living embodiment of dominance and control. Long, jet-black hair cascaded down his back, framing a face that was both handsome and terrifying, with sharp features that seemed to have been sculpted from the very night.
His eyes, dark and piercing, held within them the weight of countless battles, victories, and conquests. They were the eyes of a man who had seen the rise and fall of empires, and who had played no small part in shaping the world to his will.
He wore a flowing black robe, the fabric so fine it absorbed the light around it, giving him an almost spectral appearance. Embroidered upon the robe in delicate golden thread was the image of a dragon, its sinuous body curling around his form as if it were alive. This was no ordinary robe; it was a symbol of his unparalleled status, a declaration of his supremacy over all others.
The servants, still kneeling, cautiously stepped forward and entered the hall, bowing even lower as they approached the throne. They dared not meet his gaze directly, for to do so without his permission was an affront to his authority.
They spoke in hushed tones, delivering the news of the newborn child, the son of the Heavenly Demon. However, they chose to withhold the extraordinary details about the golden light that had accompanied the child's birth, unsure of how their master would react to such an unprecedented event.
The Heavenly Demon listened in silence, his expression inscrutable, as the servants presented the child to him. The newborn, still asleep, was carefully placed into his father's hands. As the Heavenly Demon cradled the child, the boy stirred, and then slowly opened his eyes... bright cerulean eyes that gleamed with an inner light, a stark contrast to the darkness that surrounded them.
For a moment, the Heavenly Demon's cold demeanor softened, just slightly, as he sensed the latent power within the child's small form. There was something different about this boy, something that even he, with all his might, could not fully comprehend.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a rare and fleeting expression of approval. "A strong aura… He will grow to be a worthy heir," the Heavenly Demon murmured, more to himself than to anyone else. His voice, though low, carried the weight of an unshakable conviction, one that could shape destinies and alter the course of history.
Satisfied with his assessment, the Heavenly Demon turned to the servants and announced, "Prepare a grand banquet for the entire sect. My son, the future of the Heavenly Demon Sect, has been born."
The servants, relieved that the encounter had gone well, hurried to carry out his orders. The Heavenly Demon, however, did not spare a single thought for the woman who had given her life to bring his son into the world. Her sacrifice was of no concern to him; she had fulfilled her purpose, and now she was gone, her memory fading as quickly as the last echoes of her final breath.
In the days that followed, the child became the center of attention within the Heavenly Demon Sect. Word of his birth spread quickly, and the banquet that was held in his honor was an extravagant display of the sect's wealth and power. The great hall was filled with the sect's most powerful warriors, all eager to catch a glimpse of the heir to the Heavenly Demon. The child, however, remained oblivious to the chaos that surrounded him, his bright eyes wide with innocent curiosity.
The banquet was a spectacle of excess, with tables laden with the finest foods and drink, and the air filled with the sound of laughter and boasting. The sect's warriors, clad in their finest robes, drank to the health of their future leader, their voices raised in toasts that echoed through the hall. But beneath the surface of celebration, there was an undercurrent of unease, a sense that this child was not like any other.
There were whispers among the elders, furtive glances exchanged when they thought no one was looking. They sensed the power within the child, but there was something more... something they could not quite put into words, but that filled them with a deep, unsettling sense of foreboding.
Yet, as the years passed, the initial excitement over the child's birth began to wane. The boy, once hailed as a prodigy, gradually became the subject of whispers and scorn. It wasn't because he lacked talent or potential... far from it.
The power within him was undeniable, a force that even the most seasoned warriors could sense. But the boy, despite the immense pressure placed upon him, refused to practice martial arts. He had no interest in the rigorous training that defined the lives of those within the sect.
While others spent hours honing their skills, perfecting their techniques, he remained indifferent, choosing instead to observe the world around him with a calm, contemplative gaze.
Such behavior was incomprehensible to the members of the Heavenly Demon Sect, a place where strength was the ultimate measure of worth. As the boy grew older, his refusal to conform to the sect's ideals earned him nothing but disdain.
The once-celebrated child was now labeled as "trash," a disgrace to his father's name... not because he couldn't train in martial arts, but because he simply refused to do so.
Despite the growing resentment, no one dared to act against him directly. He was, after all, the son of the Heavenly Demon... the most powerful figure in the entire world. But this protection came at a cost. Isolated by his own choices and the scorn of others, the boy found himself living in a half-broken cottage at the very edges of the sect's vast territory.
The grand palace that should have been his home stood empty, its halls silent, while the boy lived alone, far removed from the opulence and grandeur that had once surrounded him.
The small cottage, weathered by time and neglect, was a stark contrast to the splendor of the Heavenly Demon Sect. The walls were cracked, the roof sagged in places, and the cold winds of the night crept through the gaps in the wooden planks.
But to the boy, this place was more of a home than the grandest palace could ever be. Here, he could escape the constant expectations, the relentless pressure to become something he had no desire to be.
Here, in this forgotten corner of the world, the son of the Heavenly Demon lived his days in quiet solitude, his cerulean eyes gazing out at the world with a wisdom far beyond his years. He was a child born under the shadow of greatness, yet he chose to walk his own path, even if it led him away from the destiny that others had laid out for him.
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