The wind howled like a beast through the broken ridges of the Northern Wastes. Snow fell like ash, coating the shattered battlefield where silence had become the loudest sound.
Standing amidst the wreckage, cloaked in blood and frost, was Lin Feng.
He wasn't supposed to be alive.
Yet here he was, clutching the shattered remains of a fallen spear, eyes burning—not with rage, but with a clarity sharper than any blade.
"Your second life," he muttered to himself, "wasn't a gift."
A cold laugh echoed behind him.
"It was a curse."
Lin Feng turned.
The speaker stepped forward, dressed in black robes stitched with golden runes, eyes veiled behind a silver mask. The man's presence made the temperature drop even further, as though the world itself feared his breath.
"The Immortal Sect thought burying you would silence history," the masked man said, voice deep and deliberate. "But ashes only hide the fire. They do not kill it."
Lin Feng didn't speak. He watched. Calculated. Breathed.
"You've awakened," the masked man continued, walking slowly in a circle around him. "The fragments of your former self… they stir, don't they? Pieces of a king you once were. Of the throne you once held."
The wind tore louder. The storm raged. But Lin Feng remained unmoved.
"I don't remember that throne," he said quietly. "And I don't need it to kill you."
A silence, sharp and short.
Then the man chuckled. "Good. Hold on to that hatred. You'll need it."
Suddenly, the ground beneath them cracked. A flash of golden light erupted from beneath Lin Feng's feet. Symbols blazed, unfamiliar yet painfully nostalgic.
Lin Feng gasped.
Memories—not thoughts, but instincts—rushed into him like a flood. How to kill with a touch. How to command shadows with a whisper. How to tear space apart with a flick of a finger.
The spell beneath him wasn't an attack.
It was a trigger.
"You've just stepped into your inheritance," the masked man said. "But don't thank me."
He raised a hand.
From the distance, shapes emerged. Dozens. No—hundreds. Warriors, bound in dark armor, their eyes glowing red.
"You'll need to survive the next three minutes. If you do, we'll talk."
Lin Feng exhaled. For a moment, everything slowed. The wind, the snow, even the beat of his heart.
Then he moved.
And the snow turned red.
[To be continued…]
End of chapter 23