NOVEL NEXT Chapter 31: Chapter 31 - Her Hatred
The passage of time was impossible to measure as Xie Ren stood in the midst of an infernal vision.
Before him stretched a landscape consumed by flames, the sky itself burned with hellish red glow, as if the heavens themselves were scorched by some ancient curse.
Upon closer inspection, he saw countless bodies burning in the fiery sea. Some of them were still alive, their twisted forms writhing in agony, while others had already turned to ash, their cries lost to the flames.
The air was thick with smoke and the stench of burning flesh, but amidst the hellish chaos, one figure stood out to him.
It was a young girl, no older than a child, standing frozen at the edge of this inferno. Xie Ren's gaze locked onto her, and he immediately recognized her. It was a miniature version of Chen Yinyin.
She clutched a basket full of fruits in her hands, her small face pale with shock.
The basket slipped from her grasp, and the fruits tumbled to the ground, rolling away as she dropped to her knees.
Her eyes, wide with disbelief, locked onto the raging fire in front of her, and she whispered in a voice choked with despair, "Father… Mother…brother… they're all gone! Everyone is dead!"
With trembling hands, she reached out as if to enter the fire, but the intense heat pushed her back. Her limbs shook, but she made no attempt to flee.
Instead, she stood there, helpless, as her village burned before her eyes. The cries of those trapped within the flames filled the air, but she could do nothing but watch.
Tears began to fall down her soot-streaked face, and she sobbed uncontrollably, her cries mixing with the roaring of the fire until she collapsed, her small body succumbing to exhaustion.
The scene shifted, and the next moment, Xie Ren found himself witnessing the aftermath of this catastrophe.
The air was thick with sorrow, and the flames had long since died. What remained was only the charred remains of a once-thriving village, now reduced to ash and ruin.
The image of young Chen Yinyin was now a haunted one. She lay on the ground, her small body barely breathing, consumed by grief.
Day after day, she wept, her cries echoing in the stillness of the burnt landscape. Her tears never seemed to stop, her sobs wracking her fragile frame until she lost consciousness once more.
With each passing day, her face grew gaunt, her body withering into something unrecognizable. The joy and innocence that had once defined her smile were gone, swallowed by grief and despair.
Weeks passed, and the girl who had once been full of life had become little more than a shadow of herself. Her once rosy cheeks were now hollow, her eyes sunken and empty.
Then, one day, a figure appeared. An old man, his robes flowing gently in the wind, walked through the remains of the village.
His eyes scanned the destruction before him, and he muttered softly, "This village too…"
He was a cultivator. A steel plate hung from his waist, inscribed with the words "Thousand Ghost Temple."
He stood there, surveying the devastation, before his keen senses detected something that had escaped his notice before: a faint, life-preserving aura amidst the ashes.
Without hesitation, he waved his hand, dispersing the soot and ash. His sharp eyes caught sight of a small form, barely alive, hidden beneath the debris.
There, covered in soot and burned remnants, lay Chen Yinyin, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
"Such tenacity to live!" the old man murmured, kneeling beside her. His hands, though aged, were steady as he gently propped her up.
From his sleeve, he produced a small vial of elixir. And he poured it carefully into her mouth.
Moments later, the girl's eyes fluttered open. Her vision was blurry, but she could make out the kind, gentle face of the old man. His lips moved, and though her mind was foggy, she could understand the most important parts of his words.
"You have the perfect physique for our temple's cultivation techniques. If you want to avenge your family, follow me."
With the last of her strength, Chen Yinyin gave a faint nod. But before she could say anything, the darkness overcame her once more, and she passed out in the old man's arms.
…
Nine long years passed in this world, but time seemed to stand still for Xie Ren. He remained unmoving, an eternal observer, untouched by the passage of years.
Yet before him stood a woman, once a child, now transformed into a figure forged by suffering and battle.
Chen Yinyin was covered in a dark aura of demonic energy. And her body was marked with scars from countless battles.
Though her power was undeniable, she remained an outcast among cultivators. Cultivated under the Thousand Ghost Temple, she was scorned and reviled.
The people of the Thousand Ghost Temple were seen as monstrous, their demonic ways an abomination to the righteous sects.
This hatred had sparked endless wars between the righteous and the demonic, leading to bloodshed and the collapse of entire worlds.
The righteous sects, with their overwhelming numbers, had ultimately emerged victorious. But their triumph came at a great cost, mountains of corpses and rivers of blood.
In those tumultuous times, Chen Yinyin had been swallowed by her own inner demons. She had lost herself to the darkness within, a thirst for vengeance so consuming it had driven her to commit atrocities beyond imagining.
Her rage and sorrow had led her to the massacre two great righteous sects, with over a hundred thousand lives extinguished in the blink of an eye.
From that day forward, she became the sworn enemy of the righteous path. Her life was one of ceaseless pursuit, always hunted, always at war, her every step drenched in blood.
A hundred years passed, and with each decade, her heart hardened, her power growing stronger with every battle.
But with power came clarity, and at last, the truth was revealed. The one who had razed her village, the one who had slaughtered the Thousand Ghost Temple, was none other than Ruthless Sovereign Zhenwu.
The revelation burned through her like a fire, and her hatred surged anew.
A thousand years later, through endless carnage, Chen Yinyin had ascended to the peak of her cultivation.
She had become the Abyssal Demon Sovereign, a being of overwhelming power and terror.
On the day of her ascension, she was no longer the helpless girl who had once wept amidst the ashes of her village. She was a force of destruction, a storm that would consume everything in her path.
Armed with a single demonic blade, she stormed the imperial palace of Ruthless Sovereign Zhenwu.
Her very presence struck terror into the hearts of all who saw her. The air itself seemed to tremble with her fury. The palace trembled, and not a single soul dared to stand against her.
Even Zhenwu, the legendary sovereign who had spent centuries in closed-door cultivation, was forced to emerge to face her.
The battle that followed was one that shook the heavens themselves. Mountains crumbled, skies darkened, and the very fabric of the world seemed to tear apart as the two powerful beings clashed.
But in the end, despite her rage, despite the strength she had gathered over the centuries, Chen Yinyin, the Abyssal Demon Sovereign, fell.