LIGHTNOVELWORLD Chapter 1: prologue
prologue
The battlefield was a nightmare. Demonic roars mingled with the cries of dying cultivators, and the stench of blood hung thick in the air. The plains, once barren, were now a wasteland of shattered weapons, severed limbs, and blood stained earth.
The Demon King towered above the sky, his blood-red hanfu flowing with the wind, as if animated by a life of its own. The beautifully stitched patterns of his robes glistened, now stained with the blood of his enemies. His crimson eyes scanned the battlefield with a twisted smile as his soldiers, distorted beings with jagged claws and warpe bodies, surged forward like a black tide.
The cultivator army, though vast, faltered. The golden-armored General Xuan yelled over the chaos, his voice hoarse. "Hold the formation!" bellowed General Xuan, his golden armor gleaming despite the thick layer of blood and dirt. He raised his spear, its tip blazing with spiritual fire. Behind him, the cultivator army readied themselves, their faces a mix of fear and determination.
But those words felt hollow as the Demon King raised his hand, summoning his blood mist. It swirled and writhed like a living thing, descending upon the cultivators in the front lines. Screams erupted as the mist infiltrated their bodies. Some clutched their throats, blood streaming from their eyes and mouths, while those who were now under his mind control turned their weapons on their comrades.
"He's draining their blood!" a cultivator shouted, his voice trembling.
The cultivators scrambled back, terror etched on their faces. "We can't fight him! He's unstoppable!" one cried, dropping his sword.
General Xuan swung his spear, the blade blazing with spiritual fire, and cut through the red mist. "Don't retreat! Fight, or the world falls today!"
A young cultivator, barely twenty, charged with trembling hands, his sword glowing faintly. Before he could swing, the Demon King's dark magic lashed out, severing his arm instantly. Blood sprayed across the battlefield, and the boy's scream cut through the chaos.
"Pathetic," the Demon King muttered. He stepped forward, each stride crushing the ground beneath him. His blood mist coiled tighter, dragging fallen cultivators into the air. Their bodies convulsed, then burst like overripe fruit, their remains raining down on their comrades.
The Emperor, watching from the hill, clenched his fists. His silver hanfu was stained with dirt and blood, the golden lotus embroidery dulled by the stains. "We can't let this go on," he said, his voice heavy.
The Grand Priest beside him nodded grimly. "It's time. The artifact must be used now, or we'll lose everything."
The jade seal in his hands glowed brighter as he began the chant, his voice rising above the battle. The Demon King turned, his smile vanishing as he sensed the spiritual energy gathering.
"So, this is your plan?" he sneered. "A desperate gamble to seal me away? You mortals never learn."
With a flick of his wrist, the Demon King sent his blood mist surging toward the Grand Priest. The cultivators surrounding him quickly formed a barrier to protect him, their combined energy barely holding away the mist.
"Protect the seal at all costs!" the Emperor commanded.
The Demon King advanced, cutting through cultivators like they were nothing. For every step he took, dozens fell, their blood adding to the red mist that followed him like a shadow.
General Xuan blocked him, his spear blazing as he thrust it forward. The Demon King caught the weapon mid-air, snapping it in half with a laugh. "You call this strength?"
But Xuan wasn't done. He unleashed a burst of energy from his palm, pushing the Demon King back a step. It wasn't much, but it bought the Grand Priest precious seconds to complete the chant.
The jade seal erupted with light, and chains of spiritual energy shot out, wrapping around the Demon King. He roared, his form expanding as he resisted, the chains groaning under the strain.
"You think this will hold me?!" he growled, his voice thunderous.
The cultivators pressed forward, pouring all the energy they had left into the seal, this was their last hope. The chains tightened, dragging the Demon King toward a glowing vortex. He thrashed and screamed, his power tearing at the very fabric of reality, but it wasn't enough.
As the vortex pulled him in, his voice rang out one last time. "This isn't over. My blood will rise again, and this world will burn!"
And then he was gone. The battlefield fell silent except for the ragged breaths of the survivors. Everyone collapsed to the ground, both from disbelief and exhaustion.
It was over, the endless battle had finally come to an end.
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One Year Later
The blood moon rose, casting its crimson glow over the world. It was an omen, a harbinger of disaster, and everyone knew what it meant.
In the Imperial Palace, the Emperor stood in his grand chamber, staring at the moon with dread. His advisors knelt before him, their faces pale. All were dressed in traditional hanfu, their robes embroidered with the Crest symbols of their clans.
"The blood moon has returned," Minister Feng said, his voice trembling. "It's a sign. A demon heir has been born."
The Emperor's jaw tightened. "Issue the decree. Every demon child born tonight must die."
"Your Majesty, that's—" General Xuan began, his face stricken.
"There's no debate," the Emperor cut him off. "Do you remember the slaughter? The screams of our people as they were ripped apart or turned into mindless puppets? That child will grow into the same monster as its father. We must eliminate the threat now."
"But they're just children!" another advisor protested.
"Children born under the blood moon are cursed! Do you think mercy will save us if another Demon King rises? It's for the better."
The room fell into uneasy silence as the weight of his words sank in.
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In a small house on the outskirts of a village, Xiuying cradled her newborn son. Her white hanfu, embroidered with delicate blue blossoms, now stained with blood streaks from delivery, clung to her trembling frame. The soft cries of her baby filled the room, but her heart was anything but calm.
She had hoped—prayed—that her child would escape his father's curse. But as she looked into his eyes, her breath caught.
They were crimson, glowing faintly in the dim light.
"No," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Her spiritual senses confirmed her worst fears. The blood demon art coursed through his veins, a sinister power that should not exist.
Tears spilled from her eyes as she clutched him tighter. "Why? Why did it have to be you?"
For a fleeting moment, dark thoughts crossed her mind. She could end it now. Stop the curse before it began. Her trembling fingers hovered over his tiny throat.
But then the little baby opened his eyes wider, his small hand reaching for her. The innocence in his gaze shattered her resolve.
Her tears flowed freely as she pressed her forehead against his. "What do I do?" she whispered, her voice breaking.