Blood on the Walls of Memory
In the autumn season, Liangzhou Forest resembled a slumbering giant, lost in a deep sleep. Crimson and golden leaves fell like blood and gold from an unseen sky. The wind carried whispers of the past through the ancient trees, as if each falling leaf was a page from Lang Xian's wounded memories.
Now, five years after the massacre of his family, the boy who had become a shadow stood at the edge of a rocky cliff overlooking a deep valley. His ashen-gray eyes, which had gained a metallic gleam like a sharpened blade, gazed at a fortified village below. This village was called "Yanluo", home to a minor noble who had played a part in the conspiracy that wiped out his family.
-
Three hours before sunrise, Lang Xian sat inside his cave, which he had transformed into a hidden fortress. Symbols, learned from a nomadic tribe that passed through the area a year ago, were carved onto the walls. These symbols formed a mental map of his enemies' movements, connections, and weaknesses.
Before him, on a stone table, lay an array of weapons: curved knives carved from the bones of his enemies, bows made from black willow wood, and small glass bottles containing poisons extracted from rare toxic plants.
The four wolves that had grown up alongside him, now feared even by bears, rested around him. "Hei", the black wolf who had survived an old wound that left a scar across his left eye, licked his claws while watching his master with unwavering loyalty. "Bai", the once-small white pup, had become a fierce she-wolf with fur as pure as untouched snow, her eyes locked onto an imaginary prey in the corner of the cave. The twin gray wolves, "Qin" and "Yun", wrestled quietly, engaging in their nightly training.
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Suddenly, the metallic chime of a bell echoed deep within the cave. Lang Xian turned swiftly, his bone-crafted sword ready in his grip. But the figure that emerged wasn't an enemy…
A shadowy figure moved slowly, wearing a wooden mask adorned with the markings of the Qiang nomadic tribe. This man, known to Lang Xian as "Lao Zu", had been a spy who had worked with him two years ago after Lang Xian saved him from an imperial ambush.
Lao Zu (in a voice as coarse as autumn leaves rustling):
"Immortal Wolf… I have brought you a gift."
He tossed a deerskin bag onto the ground. When Lang Xian opened it, he found the severed head of a man wearing a red turban. The lifeless eyes were wide open, and the mouth was frozen in an eternal scream.
Lang Xian (his voice cold, masking the storm within):
"Who is this?"
Lao Zu (grinning, revealing missing teeth):
"The captain of Chao Quan's personal guards. That nobleman in Yanluo. This dog boasted about taking part in the massacre of an entire family years ago… I believe you know the story."
Lang Xian didn't respond. His slender fingers clenched around the severed head until he heard the crack of bone. Old, dried blood began to trickle from the nose, as if the corpse itself was reminding him that vengeance is never truly satisfied.
-
After Lao Zu left, Lang Xian began dismantling his plan to infiltrate Yanluo Village. The village was fortified with high wooden walls and watchtowers, but he had discovered a weakness after weeks of observation—every Friday night, the back gate was opened to allow supply carts from the local market to enter.
Step One:
He trained the wolves to transport small barrels of flammable pine oil, stolen from a nearby village's storage. The barrels were fitted with slow-burning fuses made from plant fibers mixed with sulfur.
Step Two:
On the night of the attack, he would sneak into the guards' camp outside the village. Using a neurotoxic poison extracted from forest frogs, he would weaken them, making them believe they were simply exhausted.
Step Three:
Disguising himself as a merchant, he used forged documents stolen from the corpse of the guard captain. With the wolves hidden beneath thick cloaks, he infiltrated the village alongside the supply carts.
-
At midnight, while the nobles celebrated Chao Quan's daughter's wedding, the oil barrels ignited on the outskirts of the village. Crimson flames devoured the wooden houses like a ravenous beast, thick smoke obscuring vision.
From the rooftop of the central temple, Lang Xian fired an arrow coated in a hallucinogenic poison at the groom. The young man began to scream, raving about demons chasing him, igniting chaos among the guests.
The wolves lunged from the shadows. "Hei" leaped onto a guard trying to shut the gate, while "Bai" sliced through the ranks of panicked guards like lightning. Lang Xian himself descended into the festival square, his bone-crafted sword gleaming under the moonlight.
Chao Quan (trembling in his golden silk robe):
"W-who are you?!"
Lang Xian (whispering like an autumn breeze):
"I am the silence you always feared… I am the blood you tried to spill."
Before the noble could scream, Lang Xian drove his sword into his chest, twisting the blade slowly, savoring the agony in the man's dying cries.
-
As the village burned, Lang Xian noticed an iron door hidden beneath a rug in Chao Quan's chamber. With inhuman strength, he tore it open, revealing a pitch-dark cellar filled with the stench of decay. What he found inside made him vomit for the first time in years:
Dozens of corpses—children and women—chained to the walls. Some were freshly killed, while others had long since turned to skeletons. The walls were covered in carvings depicting dark rituals, human sacrifices made to the death goddess Helaion.
Chao Quan wasn't just a murderer—he was a priest of a secret cult that thrived on human suffering.
-
Then, a faint cry echoed through the cellar. Lang Xian turned to find a seven-year-old boy shackled to the wall, his blue eyes filled with terror.
The sight triggered a buried memory—his infant sister, crushed beneath a knight's boot all those years ago.
Lang Xian (his voice breaking for the first time):
"Why…?"
The child reached out for him, seeking salvation. But before Lang Xian could move, a piercing howl from "Hei" signaled danger. The second round of explosions he had set in the village perimeter had begun, and the building was collapsing.
-
With debris crashing down, Lang Xian made a split-second decision. He grabbed the child and dashed toward the exit, the wolves shielding him from falling timbers.
But at the village's edge, a masked knight on a black horse emerged. The golden dragon symbol on his mask was the same one from the massacre of Lang Xian's family.
The knight raised a massive bow and fired. Lang Xian dodged, but the arrow pierced the child's shoulder.
Masked Knight (his voice metallic, like death itself):
"Little Wolf… did you think you were the only one playing the game of revenge?"
A second arrow carried a scroll. When Lang Xian unrolled it, he found a sketch of a woman bound inside a mountain cave…
She looked exactly like his mother.
-
As the burning village collapsed behind him, Lang Xian clutched the lifeless child, his tears mingling with the blood of the immortal wolf.
At dawn, among the charred remains, a single inscription was carved onto a blackened stone:
"Your blood will be the final fuel to awaken the goddess… The game has only just begun."