LIGHTNOVELWORLD Chapter 14: Chapter 14: Dark Unions
Zhen Yang stood at the peak of a towering cliff, the wind howling like a symphony of tormented souls. Below him stretched a landscape cloaked in eternal twilight, jagged mountains piercing the crimson-streaked sky. His newly awakened memories brought with them not only clarity but also a relentless hunger—for vengeance, power, and dominion over all who dared to oppose him.
In the stillness of his mind, he replayed the faces of those who had wronged him across two lifetimes. The Zhen family, with their endless scheming, and the so-called righteous sects, who had brought about his fall in the second life. This time, he thought, I will carve my own path, drenched in the blood of my enemies.
The whispers of the abyss had grown silent, replaced by the commanding echo of his own resolve. Yet, the path ahead required alliances, and alliances demanded caution. Zhen Yang's eyes narrowed as he turned away from the abyssal expanse.
The distant lights of a ruined temple glimmered faintly below. It was there he had agreed to meet them—a group of outcasts, forsaken cultivators, and rogues who had been drawn to his growing power like moths to a flame. They did not yet understand what it meant to serve him, but they would learn.
Inside the temple, the air was thick with tension. The gathered individuals—seven in total—glanced warily at one another. Each bore the scars of their own tragedies, their auras a blend of desperation and latent power. They had come seeking hope, vengeance, or purpose, but none could agree on whether Zhen Yang would offer salvation or damnation.
"He's late," muttered a wiry man with a crooked nose, his hand resting on the hilt of a battered sword.
"Quiet, Wei Lun," snapped a woman with cold eyes and a jagged scar running down her cheek. "If the stories about him are true, he's worth waiting for."
"Stories are just that," grumbled another, a burly man with a missing ear. "I've had enough of self-proclaimed saviors. If he doesn't show soon—"
A sudden chill swept through the room, silencing him mid-sentence. The flickering torches lining the temple walls dimmed, their flames bowing as if in reverence. All eyes turned toward the entrance.
Zhen Yang stepped inside, his presence a suffocating wave of power. His crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, and the edges of his robes seemed to ripple with shadows that moved of their own accord. He surveyed the room with an expression of calm authority, his gaze piercing each individual in turn.
"You came," he said simply, his voice low and steady.
The group exchanged uneasy glances before the woman with the scar stepped forward. "You're Zhen Yang?" she asked, her tone a careful mix of respect and suspicion.
He inclined his head slightly. "And you are the broken remnants who wish to rise from the ashes. Is that not why you're here?"
Wei Lun bristled at the remark. "Watch your tongue! We're not pawns to be—"
Before he could finish, Zhen Yang's figure blurred. In an instant, he was behind Wei Lun, a hand lightly resting on the man's shoulder. The temperature in the room plummeted further as Zhen Yang's grip tightened, and Wei Lun's bravado dissolved into a choked gasp.
"You misunderstand," Zhen Yang murmured, his tone icy. "I have no need for pawns. I seek those who understand the value of loyalty and the price of power. Are you such a man, Wei Lun?"
Wei Lun nodded frantically, his face pale. Zhen Yang released him and stepped back, addressing the group once more.
"You've all suffered," he said, his voice carrying an edge of dark allure. "Betrayal, loss, injustice. The world you knew has cast you aside, leaving you to rot in obscurity. But I offer you something greater."
He raised a hand, and the shadows around him writhed, forming into the faint outline of a massive claw. The group recoiled instinctively, their breaths quickening.
"Serve me," Zhen Yang continued, "and I will give you the strength to shatter those who wronged you. Follow me, and you will rise above the petty squabbles of this mortal plane. Together, we will reshape the world in our image."
The room fell silent. The promise of power was intoxicating, but the weight of Zhen Yang's presence left no room for doubt—or refusal. One by one, the individuals knelt, their gazes lowered in submission.
The scarred woman was the first to speak. "What is your will, my lord?"
Zhen Yang allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. "For now, we gather strength. There are forces at play beyond your understanding, and the Zhen family is only the beginning. Prepare yourselves, for the path ahead is steeped in blood."
As he spoke, the shadows around him deepened, enveloping the group in a cocoon of cold darkness. When the light returned, the faint sigil of the abyss marked each of their foreheads, a crimson brand signifying their pact.
"Your lives are mine," Zhen Yang said, his tone final. "Betray me, and there will be no salvation."
The group nodded, their expressions a mix of awe and fear. The woman with the scar dared to raise her gaze. "What shall we call ourselves, my lord?"
Zhen Yang's eyes burned brighter, his smile widening. "We are the Abyssal Order. And the world will tremble at our coming."