The Forbidden Forest seemed to grow more oppressive with every step Ling Tianhao took, its darkness pressing down on him like a physical weight, as if the very air sought to crush his resolve. Now seventeen years old, Tianhao was a shadow of the boy he had once been—his body hardened by the demonic ring's transformation, his dark eyes cold and unyielding, filled with a hatred that had become his only reason to live. The wounds from his battle with the Demonic Blood Wolf still ached, the venom's lingering burn a constant reminder of his struggle, but the black energy of Demonic Lianunionqi Layer 1 coursed through his veins, fueling his determination to press on. His tattered clothes were stained with blood and dirt, his gaunt frame trembling with exhaustion, but his steps were steady, driven by the black flame of vengeance that burned brighter than ever.
The forest's grayish-black mist swirled around him, its whispers growing louder, more insistent, as if the darkness itself was guiding him toward his destiny. The twisted black trees loomed overhead, their sharp branches casting jagged shadows under the faint moonlight, their gnarled trunks oozing crimson sap that hissed as it dripped to the ground. Strange sounds echoed through the mist—hisses, growls, and murmurs that seemed to whisper his name, their tones a mix of mockery and invitation. Yet Tianhao's focus remained unshaken, his mind fixed on the path north, toward the Blood River and the cave where the Demon Book awaited, as revealed by the spirit of Grand Elder Yan Huo. "I'll find that book," he muttered, his voice a low growl, his hands clenching into fists, the demonic energy within him flaring with his rage. "I'll make them pay."
The memories of his family and Mei Lian were a constant torment, their faces haunting his every step, fueling the rage that kept him alive. His father's lifeless body, beaten to death by Gu Shan's men; his mother's blood staining the shack floor, her final act of defiance against a world that had broken her; Mei Lian's cries as she was dragged away, sold into slavery because he was too weak to protect her—these images were seared into his mind, driving him forward even as the forest seemed to close in around him. Yan Huo's warning echoed in his thoughts, a faint whisper of doubt that he quickly silenced. The path of demonic cultivation would consume him, strip away his humanity—but what humanity did he have left? "I'll become a demon if I must," he said, his voice cold, his dark eyes burning with resolve. "They'll pay for what they've done… even if it destroys me."
After hours of trudging through the forest, the mist began to thin, revealing the Blood River—a wide, sluggish stream of crimson liquid that flowed through the heart of the forest, its surface bubbling with a faint, acrid steam, the stench of blood and decay so strong it made Tianhao's stomach churn. The river's banks were lined with jagged rocks, their surfaces etched with glowing runes that pulsed with a dark energy, a barrier that seemed to warn all who approached. Beyond the river, a cave loomed, its entrance a gaping maw of darkness, the air around it thick with a demonic aura that made the hairs on Tianhao's neck stand on end. "This is it," he whispered, his dark eyes narrowing, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and dread. The Demon Book was inside—he could feel it, a pull that resonated with the demonic energy within him.
But as he took a step toward the river, the ground beneath him trembled, a deep, guttural roar echoing through the forest, shaking the trees and sending small rocks tumbling into the crimson water. From the cave emerged a creature of pure nightmare—a Shadow Serpent, its massive body as long as ten men laid end to end, its scales black as the void, shimmering with a faint, crimson glow. Its eight heads rose high, each one adorned with glowing red eyes and fangs as long as Tianhao's arm, dripping with a venom that sizzled as it hit the ground. The beast's aura was suffocating, a mix of demonic energy and raw, primal malice, far stronger than the Demonic Blood Wolf, its presence a testament to the forest's darkest heart. Yan Huo's warning flashed through Tianhao's mind: "The beast that guards the Demon Book is a creature of pure malice, a shadow of the forest's darkest heart."
Tianhao's heart pounded, his breath coming in sharp gasps, but he didn't retreat. The demonic energy within him flared, responding to the threat, his dark eyes meeting the serpent's gaze with a defiance born of his hatred. "If you want to stop me, you'll have to kill me," he said, his voice cold, his hands clenching as he prepared to fight. The Shadow Serpent let out a deafening roar, the sound shaking the riverbank, and charged, its eight heads striking with deadly precision, their venomous fangs aimed at Tianhao's heart.
Tianhao dodged to the side, his enhanced reflexes saving him as the serpent's fangs sank into the ground where he had stood, the venom burning through the earth with a hiss. He rolled to his feet, his mind racing as he assessed his opponent. The serpent was massive, its speed and power far beyond anything he had faced, but he had no choice—he had to fight, or he would die. He scanned the riverbank, his dark eyes landing on a jagged rock similar to the one he had used against the wolf, its edge sharp enough to serve as a weapon. He lunged for it, his hands closing around the rock just as one of the serpent's heads struck, its fangs grazing his arm, the venom burning his skin with a searing pain.
Tianhao gritted his teeth, the pain fueling his rage, and swung the rock with all his strength, striking one of the serpent's heads, drawing a spray of black blood that hissed as it hit the ground. The beast roared, its other heads striking in unison, their fangs snapping inches from his face. Tianhao dodged and weaved, using the riverbank's rocks for cover, striking at the serpent whenever he saw an opening, his jagged rock drawing more blood with each hit. But the beast was relentless, its heads a blur of motion, its venom burning his skin with every near miss. Blood dripped from Tianhao's wounds, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his vision blurring as the pain and exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him.
The fight stretched on, a brutal dance of survival, Tianhao's new body pushed to its limits, the demonic energy within him flaring with each strike. He targeted the serpent's heads one by one, using his speed to avoid their fangs, striking at their eyes and throats with his jagged rock, each blow drawing more blood, each roar from the beast a testament to his growing strength. But the serpent's final head proved the most dangerous, its movements faster, its venom more potent, its red eyes glowing with a hatred that matched Tianhao's own. With a final, desperate surge of strength, Tianhao lunged forward, his jagged rock aimed at the serpent's last eye, the beast's fangs snapping at his throat.
The rock sank deep into the serpent's eye with a sickening squelch, black blood pouring from the wound, the beast letting out a piercing howl as its massive body thrashed, its movements growing erratic. Tianhao didn't hesitate—he struck again, driving the rock into the serpent's throat, severing its windpipe with a final, brutal blow. The Shadow Serpent collapsed, its body twitching for a moment before falling still, its crimson glow dimming, its red eyes fading to a lifeless gray. Tianhao stood over the corpse, his chest heaving, his body trembling with exhaustion, his wounds burning with the serpent's venom. Blood dripped from his hands, mixing with the black ichor on the ground, his jagged rock still clutched in his grip.
He had survived—barely—but the fight had taken its toll. His vision swam, his legs buckling beneath him, and he fell to his knees, his breath coming in shallow gasps. Yet even in his pain, a cold smile curled his lips, his dark eyes glinting with a savage satisfaction. He had defeated the guardian, the beast that had claimed Yan Huo's life, and now the Demon Book was within his reach. With a trembling hand, he pushed himself to his feet, his wounds throbbing, his body screaming in protest, and staggered toward the cave, the darkness within calling to him with a promise of power.
The cave was a cavern of shadows, its walls etched with glowing runes that pulsed with a dark energy, the air thick with a demonic aura that made Tianhao's skin crawl. In the center of the cavern, on a pedestal of black stone, lay the Demon Book—a tome bound in black leather, its surface etched with crimson runes that glowed with a malevolent light, its pages emanating a power that seemed to whisper promises of destruction. Tianhao approached, his dark eyes fixed on the book, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and dread. The moment his fingers brushed its surface, a surge of demonic energy erupted, coursing through his body like a tidal wave, filling him with a power that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.
The book's energy merged with his own, the black energy of Demonic Lianunionqi Layer 1 flaring, his meridians burning as the power took root, pushing him to the brink of Demonic Lianunionqi Layer 2. But with the power came a cost—a voice, cold and malevolent, echoing in his mind, whispering promises of vengeance and destruction, urging him to surrender his humanity completely. Tianhao's hands trembled, his dark eyes flickering with a mix of resolve and fear, the memories of his family flashing through his mind—his mother's plea to stay kind, his father's stories of the Jade Emperor, Mei Lian's shy smile. For a moment, he hesitated, the last shred of his humanity fighting against the darkness, but the black flame of vengeance burned brighter, drowning out the whispers of his past.
"I'll take this power," he said, his voice a chilling vow, his dark eyes hardening as he clutched the Demon Book to his chest. "I'll become a demon… I'll make them all pay." The cave trembled, the runes on the walls flaring with a crimson light, as if the forest itself was acknowledging his choice. Tianhao turned, his new power coursing through him, his wounds still burning but his resolve unshaken. The Forbidden Forest stretched out before him, its darkness a reflection of the path he had chosen—a path of power, of vengeance, of retribution. With the Demon Book in hand, he stepped out of the cave, his dark eyes fixed on the horizon, the black flame in his heart burning brighter than ever, a fire that would not be quenched until his enemies lay broken at his feet.