FaithfulPlight

#violence #drama #sex #alcohol #controversy #adult 
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He doesn't seek riches; what he had cannot be bought. 

He doesn't seek fame; reputation is but a dual-edged sword. It frightened him.

He didn't seek power, but power took everything he had. 

He lacked ambition, now ambition is the only thing he has. 

If destiny was water and life was the ocean, then who commanded the waves? He now wondered. 

Those who played his fate on a whim, he will hold responsible. 

Be it, Immortals.
Be it, self-proclaimed Gods.
Be it, The Heavenly Empress, and her decree.
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The starting volume 1; Prologue, provides a brief context in its Three Chapters that helps build a foundation, skeleton, and even a solid structure to introduce our MC.

The story is the male lead. However, it will deviate from the norm, as the primary influence over the MC will be its supporting characters which will vary from females and males in an uneven ratio.

This fantasy novel depicts the life of Yang Lin in a world that harmonized modern technology and fictional civilizations under the flags of war. 

Not in a million variables of his mundane life in a nameless village, barren island, under the vastness of a seemingly endless sky, had he imaged the ripples of chaos would reach their ebbs and flows to shake his life. 

A life he thought was his own. Alas, ultimately, he is but a humble chess piece in the hands of those above. 

Yang Lin wanted nothing more than leading a mundane filial life. To fall in love, grow old, and die poor but happy and content. Just a few decades of peace and quiet is all that he ever wished for...

ㄱㄴ토ㅕㅅ

Author Note: Violent chapter, read at your own discretion.


"Hmf…" As a scorching radiance marked her pale cheek, the Madam clenched her fists, biting down at her teeth to the point audible crackling could be heard. She tolerated the pain as an ivory hot dagger rested against her face. Her eyes, unwavering, settled on the ugly face which distorted in anger. 


"Bitch, I'll have you beg for mercy, be it the last thing I do." The man said, pressing the dagger further into the Madam's face as her skin twisted as if melting away, his other palm locked ever-so-tightly over her slender neck, naught but a sturdy wall spanning behind the woman who had her hands thrashing about in cold cuffs behind her back.


"If you had obediently cast your pride aside, this could have been much easier," The man heaved a breath and spoke through a drooling mouth. The anger, resentment, dressed by helplessness in the woman's expression erected him. What can a man ask for more than a beautiful woman feeding his ego? He didn't know. 


He was disappointed that they have not found her daughter. Perhaps, using her daughter to break her will would have been wonderful. He wanted to see her sell her body for the good of her beloved daughter, admitting herself worthless, a tool for his pleasure. 


'I'll do anything, just not my daughter.'


'Yes Master, you ask, your slave will fulfill.'


When women of pride and dignity were reduced to such levels, it stroked his ego and pride. He had to give it to this woman, looking down at her shredded robes, wayward stripes of fresh lashes decorated her hourglass figure. No matter how intense and evil, she never let out a cry much less cast her pride. 


It made him feel incompetent. Enraged, looking mortified, he resulted to marking by burns. Scarring her body wasn't his main objective, but scarring her heart was so. Goes without saying, he still failed.


"Tsk, act tough all you want. I wonder if your daughter can be as stubborn." The man blurted out with a ferocious expression. At the mention of her daughter, a chilly light flashed through her eyes. Beating down the pain, she spat her blood and saliva directly into the man's mouth as he was about to speak. 


"Cough! Cough! You bitch!" He drew back the knife so fast it cut her skin apart, blood oozing out to stain her clothes, forcing her to knit her lips shut once again, eyes growing moist and hazy.


A man frantically shouted from the outside, his shouts louder than the resounding bangs of the door. The man smashed his fists against the wooden surface so hard that it broke down into pieces within seconds. Caught aback, the man staggered and stumbled down, crashing into the floor. 


In a haste, he stood up while uttering, "A monster! He's a monster! Ugh!" The man looked at his boss and the woman in disbelief, and they reciprocated the gesture in the same. The former party knew he was dead, and the latter two were shocked to see a young arm protruding the man's chest, densely stained red sprinkled with mushed bone. The arm held onto a rustic knife, a knife the Boss was too familiar with. 


A knife that had been left situated within Lady Yang's forehead for the past weeks was now crowned by the heart of one of his men. Devoid of life, the man plopped on the ground. Blood poured like a fountain, reflecting the image of a young man bathed in blood, wielding a knife in his left, and a bundle of heads cleaved neatly by the throat in his right. 


Within the suffocating silence, only the faint sounds of bloody droplets emerging from the dagger and the severed heads resonated aloud. 


"You're next," Yang Lin said, his voice distant and desolate, but a smile tugged at his lips nonetheless. 


You're Next