The Bitter Truth About The War

Yán Shèngxīn led the two demon kings—Shèn Zhēngkāi, the Monkey King Demon, and Tún Tǔyún, the Pig King Demon—through the quiet, desolate pathways of the school grounds. He walked with an unhurried pace, hands in his sleeves, while the two demons trailed behind him, exchanging wary glances.

"Where are you taking us, brat?" Zhēngkāi grumbled, his tail flicking irritably. "Why the secrecy?"

Tǔyún yawned, scratching his belly lazily. "Hope there's food wherever we're going. This better not be a waste of time."

Shèngxīn ignored them. Soon, they arrived at an abandoned training ground, overgrown with weeds, with cracked stone pillars marking the boundaries. The place had been left to decay, an eerie silence filling the air.

Shèngxīn stopped at the center and turned around. "This should do."

Then, without further explanation, he extended his hand. "Ān'nà."

A gust of wind swept through the area, carrying with it a strong, sweet fragrance—the scent of Plumeria flowers. The air grew heavy, suffused with an eerie presence, and then—

A crisp, bone-chilling laugh echoed.

From the thickening shadows, a figure floated forward. She was dressed in a tattered white robe, stained with dark, dried blood, especially around her back. But what was most unsettling was that if one looked closely from behind—her back was hollow, revealing an empty void where her spine should have been.

Ān'nà.

The feared Hallucination Ghost.

Her long, disheveled hair framed a pale face, her lips curled into an unsettling smile. Her clawed fingers twitched slightly, eager for violence.

The temperature dropped.

The space around them warped and twisted as she activated her Hallucination Domain. The world changed instantly—what was once an abandoned training ground was now an endless, haunted abyss, filled with flickering apparitions and whispers that drilled into the mind.

Here, within her domain, Ān'nà was the strongest being.

And worse still—if she so wished, she could possess either beast or human alike, taking complete control of their bodies. A fate far worse than death for those who opposed her.

Zhēngkāi and Tǔyún stiffened immediately. Their relaxed expressions twisted into pure horror as they took a step back.

"You—!" Zhēngkāi's tail bristled as he bared his fangs. "The Demon Bane of Fifteen Years Ago!"

Tǔyún's eyes widened as his hands trembled. "The ghost that made our armies lose…! The one who caused Huáng Shīyáng's rebellion against Hēi Lóng Tiāndì!"

It was impossible.

The very existence of this woman had been a nightmare to the demon realm for over a decade. Because of her illusions, entire demon legions had lost their minds, killing their own comrades in confusion, turning on their own leaders. And worse—she was the catalyst that led to the downfall of the mighty Hēi Lóng Tiāndì, the Black Dragon Emperor.

Terror flashed across their faces, but it quickly turned into rage.

Zhēngkāi's muscles tensed. He gritted his teeth, gripping the legendary Ruòguǒ Stick tightly. "I won't let this stand."

Tǔyún's nostrils flared as he stomped his foot, cracking the ground. "We should've killed you the moment we saw you!"

The two demon kings lunged.

Before they could reach Ān'nà, Shèngxīn calmly raised his hand again.

"Enough," he said.

A thunderous boom shook the domain.

The air trembled. The ground cracked under immense pressure.

A golden light exploded from a summoning crest beneath Shèngxīn's feet. And from the shadows, a massive figure emerged.

His body was covered in a layer of thick, coarse black hair, but beneath it, his strong, well-defined muscles showed that he was more man than beast. His blood-red eyes glowed ominously under the dim light, exuding a terrifying aura. His face was broad and rugged, resembling that of a fearsome eastern gorilla, with a heavy brow ridge and powerful jaws. His sharp, jagged teeth were barely concealed by his thick lips, hinting at the raw power hidden behind his monstrous war of god' presence.

Gēn Dé Rú Wǎng.

Or simply—Wǎng.

His piercing eyes locked onto the two demon kings with the weight of an immovable mountain.

Zhēngkāi barely had time to react before Wǎng moved.

Wǎng swung his cudgel in a wide arc. The sheer force of it split the air, creating a howling shockwave.

Zhēngkāi barely managed to raise his Ruòguǒ Stick in time, bracing for impact.

BANG!

The ground beneath them shattered as Zhēngkāi and Tǔyún were sent flying backward, crashing through several stone pillars.

Tǔyún hit the ground with a sickening thud and did not get up. His consciousness snapped instantly.

Zhēngkāi, however, coughed up blood and forced himself back to his feet. His arms trembled as he wiped his mouth, glaring at Wǎng with disbelief.

"That power…" he muttered. His face darkened. "Damn it. You're on a completely different level."

Wǎng stepped forward, adjusting his grip on the cudgel. "Shall we continue?"

Zhēngkāi took a deep breath. He refused to back down.

He charged.

The two warriors clashed again.

Zhēngkāi swung his Ruòguǒ Stick with all his might, each strike fast, precise, backed by years of battle experience.

But it wasn't enough.

Wǎng parried every single one of his blows with effortless movements.

Then, in one decisive moment—

BOOM!

Wǎng's cudgel struck Zhēngkāi's side, sending him rolling across the ground. His face slammed against a rock, blood trickling from his nose.

He pushed himself up again—only for Wǎng's fist to drive into his gut.

Zhēngkāi's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. His body lifted off the ground, his ribs cracking from the sheer force.

Another blow struck his cheek. His face twisted into a grotesque, swollen mess, resembling Tǔyún's pig-like face.

Everything hurt.

Zhēngkāi staggered back, gasping, struggling to stay on his feet. He felt like his entire skeleton was breaking apart.

Wǎng stood before him, his expression unreadable. "You should know when to surrender."

Zhēngkāi clenched his fists. His pride screamed at him to keep fighting.

But his body—his battered, broken body—could take no more.

He dropped to his knees, panting, his vision spinning.

"...I surrender," he finally muttered.

A silence followed.

Shèngxīn smirked slightly. "Good."

Wǎng lowered his weapon. Ān'nà watched quietly, an amused glint in her eyes.

Tún Tǔyún lay unconscious nearby, drooling into the dirt.

The battle was over.

Shèn Zhēngkāi remained kneeling, his forehead pressed firmly against the ground in a deep kowtow. His voice trembled with reverence as he declared, "This lowly one greets the ancestor demon! I have eyes but failed to see the great one before me!"

A deep chuckle rumbled through the air like distant thunder. Wǎng stepped forward, his heavy footsteps shaking the ground beneath him. He lowered his crimson gaze toward Zhēngkāi, his expression unreadable.

"Ancestor demon?" Wǎng's deep voice echoed through the hallucinated domain. "I was once a demon, but now I am nothing but a ghost." His large, clawed hand clenched around his massive cudgel. "Do not mistake the dead for the living."

Zhēngkāi's head shot up, eyes wide with disbelief. "A ghost…?" He swallowed hard, his mind struggling to process what he had just heard.

But before he could dwell on it further, Wǎng tilted his head in Yán Shèngxīn's direction. "If you wish to bow, do so properly—to my young master."

Zhēngkāi hesitated for only a brief moment before turning towards Yán Shèngxīn. With a deep breath, he shifted his posture and bowed again, pressing his forehead to the ground.

"This humble one greets the young master. May I ask why you have summoned me here?"

Yán Shèngxīn's expression remained unreadable, his dark eyes locked onto Zhēngkāi. "I summoned you because I want to hear the truth," he said calmly. "Tell me everything about what happened during the war… the moment when the demon armies were about to win but suddenly lost."

Zhēngkāi exhaled sharply, his brows knitting together. He remained kneeling but straightened his back. "The war…" His voice took on a somber tone.

"At that time, we demons had the upper hand. The human armies were cornered, their forces weakened. We were only moments away from absolute victory."

Zhēngkāi's gaze darkened as he continued. "But then… something changed. At first, it was just a feeling—a strange presence watching from the shadows. Then, it became real."

His fists clenched as he recalled the battlefield. "Our soldiers began falling, not to human weapons, but to something unseen. Some were dragged into the darkness and never returned. Others suddenly turned against their own comrades, as if their minds had been taken over."

Tún Tǔyún, who had regained consciousness, sat up and nodded in agreement. "I remember that moment too. We couldn't see what was attacking us, only the aftermath. It was as if something was hunting us from the void."

Zhēngkāi's voice dropped to a whisper. "And then, the worst happened—our king… he…"

His eyes flickered with fear. "Our king, Hēi Lóng Tiāndì, was suddenly entranced. He stood in the middle of the battlefield, his eyes lost in a daze, as if something had invaded his mind."

At that moment, Ān'nà, who had been silently watching, let out a soft, eerie laugh. The scent of Plumeria flowers filled the air as she took a step forward.

"That was my doing," she said nonchalantly, tilting her head.

Zhēngkāi's body stiffened. His breath hitched as realization struck him. "It was… you?" His voice was barely a whisper.

Ān'nà smiled, her crimson-stained white robes swaying. "Yes. I was the one who created the hallucination that trapped your king."

Zhēngkāi and Tún Tǔyún exchanged a horrified glance. "You—You were the one who helped the humans win?!" Zhēngkāi's hands trembled in rage.

But before he could act, Ān'nà's expression turned grave. "But I wasn't the only one."

A sudden cold gust of wind blew through the domain.

"There was another… someone who turned the tides of the war in a way even I could not."

A deep silence followed.

Then, Ān'nà spoke a name that made the air grow even colder.

"Xuè Dì, the bat ghost."

Zhēngkāi's eyes widened in horror. Tún Tǔyún let out a small gasp.

Ān'nà's voice softened as she continued, "Xuè Dì appeared during the final moments of the war. He was the one who struck the decisive blow."

Zhēngkāi's voice cracked. "He—he was the one who—"

Ān'nà nodded. "He was the one who drained the blood of your king… and many of your soldiers."

Zhēngkāi clenched his teeth. His mind was spiraling into chaos.

Ān'nà let out a sigh. "But we've lost Xuè Dì. He disappeared decades ago, right after the murder of Yán Jiàoyáng, our young master's father."

Yán Shèngxīn's expression remained calm, but there was a flicker of something dark in his gaze.

"Then, tell me what happened after."

Zhēngkāi took a deep breath before speaking. "After that loss, chaos erupted in the demon realm. Some demon kings refused to accept the outcome of the war. They conspired together—led by the Lion King Demon, Huáng Shīyáng."

His fists clenched as he continued. "With Hēi Lóng Tiāndì weakened, they struck. He was captured and imprisoned in an unknown location. To this day, no one knows where he is."

Tún Tǔyún nodded solemnly. "And that was when Huáng Shīyáng declared himself the new Demon King."

A deep silence fell upon the group.

Then, Ān'nà suddenly chuckled.

Zhēngkāi turned to her, confused. "What's so funny?"

Ān'nà's lips curled into a knowing smile. "I just find it amusing… that no one ever questions who truly benefited from the downfall of your king."

Zhēngkāi frowned. "What do you mean?"

Ān'nà's expression turned serious. "Let me tell you something interesting."

She took a slow step forward, her crimson eyes glowing.

"The ghosts who appeared that night… they weren't summoned by any human leader there."

Zhēngkāi stiffened. "Then who—?"

Ān'nà smirked. "Mào Qīnghuà."

Silence.

Shèngxīn felt his breath leave his lungs. "Mother?"

Ān'nà nodded. "She was the one who called upon us. At that time, she was pregnant with Yán Shèngxīn."

Zhēngkāi shook his head in disbelief. "But why would she—? Because she wanted to help her husband?"

Ān'nà's voice softened. "Because she knew the truth."

Zhēngkāi stared at her, frozen.

Ān'nà's next words sent chills down his spine.

"She knew that Hēi Lóng Tiāndì did not kill his former master. She also knew that his master did not kill any of his descendants"

"She knew that his downfall was a conspiracy, as well as the war itself."

"A conspiracy between both humans and demons who sought to become kings of their own races."

Zhēngkāi's and Tǔyún's hands trembled as they processed the weight of this revelation.

Their entire life… they had been believing a lie.

Zhēngkāi fell silent for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh. "So... the lie didn't just deceive the demons, but the humans too?"

Yán Shèngxīn's gaze grew sharper. "That's right. Humans were also fooled. They believe that Zhào Qīnglán and his tiger beast were the ones who caused the hallucinations and defeated Hēi Lóng Tiāndì along with the entire demon army."

Zhēngkāi narrowed his eyes. "So all humans were forced to believe that Zhào Qīnglán was the hero who saved them?"

"More than that." Yán Shèngxīn clenched his fists. "From that moment on, humans were required to worship Zhào Qīnglán as the King of Humans. His name was glorified, and every generation after him had to acknowledge him as their savior."

He continued, his voice firm. "And even worse, the beast tamer profession became the most prestigious profession among humans. Everyone competed to become a beast tamer because history had been falsified, making it seem like victory in that war was solely due to beast taming."

Zhēngkāi let out a low growl. "Do you have solid evidence of this, or is it just a theory?"

Ān'nà smirked. "Of course, there's evidence. Mào Qīnghuà already stored the proof inside a box and hid it in the Yán family mansion."

Zhēngkāi's eyes widened. "So that's the reason—"

Ān'nà nodded. "Yes. That's why those mysterious people attacked the mansion, slaughtered everyone inside, and searched every room. They were looking for that box."

Zhēngkāi clenched his fists, his eyes filled with rage. "Then why didn't you help them?! If you knew what was happening, why didn't you stop the massacre?!"

Wǎng, who had been silent all this time, finally spoke, his voice booming with anger and grief. "Do you think we didn't want to protect them?!"

Dark energy surged around his massive body, and his glowing red eyes burned with fury. "We wanted to! But at that time, Mào Qīnghuà was about to give birth. She knew that if we went out to fight, both she and her child wouldn't survive."

Zhēngkāi held his breath.

"So she made a decision." Wǎng's voice softened, but it was still heavy with emotion. "She ordered us to stay inside her summoning necklace. And after the massacre happened, when she gave birth... she sealed the necklace."

The air around them grew thick with silence, weighed down by the long-buried truth that had finally been unearthed.

Yán Shèngxīn blinked in surprise. He had never heard Wǎng speak so much before—let alone with such raw emotion. The towering ghost warrior had always been silent, an intimidating presence lurking in the background. But now, hearing him speak so passionately about Mào Qīnghuà, his mother, made Shèngxīn realize just how deep Wǎng's loyalty and grief ran.

He was about to say something, but Zhēngkāi broke the silence first.

"So… what's next?" Zhēngkāi asked, his voice steady but expectant. His eyes flicked between Shèngxīn and Wǎng, waiting for an answer.

Before Shèngxīn could respond, a telepathic voice echoed in Wǎng's mind.

"Anchestor, please tell young master Shèngxīn to make Tǔyún fall asleep." Zhēngkāi's voice was firm, yet cautious. "I still don't trust him."

Wǎng's red eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't react outwardly.

Zhēngkāi continued. "Tǔyún is too easy to manipulate. Food, women—anyone can buy his loyalty. If we discuss the real plan now, he might sell us out later."

Wǎng said nothing, but a faint movement of Shèngxīn's fingers sent a silent command into the shadows.

A tiny tsetse fly emerged from the darkness and landed on Tǔyún's neck. Bite.

Tǔyún barely flinched before his eyelids grew heavy. His body wobbled for a moment, and then—thud—he collapsed, fast asleep.

Shèngxīn turned back to Zhēngkāi.

Zhēngkāi exhaled slowly, his expression shifting to something more serious. "Now that he's asleep, let me tell you our real agenda."

Shèngxīn listened intently.

"My demon spies have gathered information about the dungeon that appeared mysteriously during the last school event," Zhēngkāi said. "At first, we thought it was just an ancient ruin, but after years of investigation…" He met Shèngxīn's gaze.

"…we now suspect that Hēi Lóng Tiāndì is imprisoned inside that dungeon."

Shèngxīn's breath hitched. "What?"

Zhēngkāi nodded. "That dungeon appeared fourteen years ago—at the exact same time Hēi Lóng Tiāndì disappeared. It can't be a coincidence."

A heavy silence settled between them.

Then, Zhēngkāi took a deep breath and lowered himself onto one knee in front of Shèngxīn.

"I swear my allegiance to you, Young Master Yán Shèngxīn," Zhēngkāi said, his voice solemn. "As long as you help us find that prison and free Hēi Lóng Tiāndì, I will stand by your side as your ally."

Shèngxīn locked eyes with him. He could feel the weight of the moment, the responsibility that came with it.

"…I accept," he said firmly.

Zhēngkāi nodded, rising to his feet. "Then we are dismissed."

As if sensing the conversation was over, the air around them shifted. The eerie stillness faded, and the surroundings returned to normal. The unnatural tension that had wrapped around them like a shroud disappeared.

Shèngxīn turned away without hesitation. He sprinted back to the dormitory, his mind racing with everything he had just learned.

The truth about the war. The lies humans believed. The hidden evidence.

And most importantly…

The chance to free Hēi Lóng Tiāndì.

"The chance to uncover the truth behind his father's murder and the massacre of everyone in the mansion that night."

----------------------------------End of Chapter 20-------------------------------