Chapter 106: Names Carved in Blood

Under the fading moonlight, a chill appeared to run through the air in the center of the Star Dou Forest, where Tang Yan sat all by himself on a mossy stone, the cold ground beneath him contrasting strongly with the heat of his remembrance. For the very first time in what had felt like an age, his thoughts turned away from the incessant seeking of martial souls and the weight of cultivation. Instead, it was carried back to another existence—a life of laughter, hope, and bittersweet reminders of love.

He recalled her, the woman whose laughter had echoed through the cramped, underbudgeted corridors of the orphanage—a haven and a prison both. She had been more than a friend; she was his confidante, his mischievous foe, and the ray of light that cut through the blacks of his days. Even as he rose to the pinnacle of authority as the CEO of a mighty organization, their repartee continued from the base of familiarity in childhood. The jibes were an art form, the disagreements friendly, and their midnight talks were like the fibers stitching their souls as one.

There was no unspeakable arrogance in his path to success, however, ever in their friendship. She never flinched, never allowed him to put her up on a pedestal. Rather, she reproved him when the burden of his ambition crept toward self-importance, chuckled at his inane jokes, and sat next to him in silence when the world was too heavy to bear.

And then there was Anushka Singh. The day Anushka Singh had come to the orphanage, arms laden with clothes and books, her gentle smile had carved itself into his heart like a secret he'd held for years. In that moment, amidst the backdrop of laughter and joy, he had silently vowed, a fire igniting within him: One day, I'll stand tall enough to marry her.

What followed was a grueling journey soaked in hardship, scorn, and abuse. But every act of cruelty he faced only sharpened his resolve, driving him to claw his way from the depths of despair. His best friend had watched with a mix of admiration and heartbreak, often rebuking him for believing he was deserving of a love like Dharshini's.

And then there was that day when silence was broken by the weight of truth. At a moment that was full of risk, she had told him how she felt, her words shaking with a strange mixture of hope and fear. "I want to have a married life with you," she had uttered, every word being a bombshell that saw their worlds spinning.

But he had sent her away, anguish of purpose marked on his face. "You're my best friend. Don't make trouble for the girl I love," he'd told her, unaware of the fine knife of pain that had cut deep into her heart. She had walked away wordlessly, grief hidden behind quiet tears. When she turned to him in her time of need later, he had hidden away in cowardice, afraid to face the isolation he had caused her unwittingly.

Coward, he seethed angrily. I'm not strong enough to handle her loneliness.

Albeit the gnawing sense of guilt gnawing at his conscience, he had constructed a will that bequeathed all personal savings—every penny not committed to the empire he had built—to her. It was the only thing he could do, a pitiful offering for the hurt he had caused.

Ironically enough, the woman he had fought for—the reason he had injured his best friend—ended up betraying him. Anushka Singh, the one who had ignited his heart's most desperate desires, was the mastermind behind his destruction, weaving spiders' webs that led him to his own tragic end. The idea writhed like a knife in his chest.

Tang Yan's mouth twisted into a sour smile, heavy with pain and awareness. "That's the price of being a high-level human," he seethed, bitterness infusing his mind. Drenched in power, yet more alone than ever. All donned a guise, and so did he; he wore the thickest one of them all.

Time passed, the woods full of the sound of leaves rustling, but he did not move, stuck in the din of his mind. An hour or more went by before he stood, his scarred visage raised to the moon, the unearthly light falling on the pain in his eyes. A cold, hollow laughter burst forth from his chest—a sound high and thin, as cruel as the frost that clung to the sky.

"Power to match eternity," he whispered, steel determination igniting a fire in him.

As if at command, a blue-tinged, cold panel rolled out before his eyes, revealing his martial arts skills in imperial splendor.

⚜️ Blue Gold Trident

(Ultimate Gold / Sea / Flame attributes; piercing, control & destructive AoE)

???? First Ring Soul Skills:

- Echo Surge (Healing – Passive/Active Hybrid)

- Severing Radiance Fang (Attack – Single Target)

- Thorn-Fused Detonation (Multi-target Explosive, Hidden)

- Crimson Hunt Lock (Single Target Execution + Control, Hidden)

Merely seeing it's form gave him a sense of purpose—a spark that ignited a long-dormant darkness. He wasn't Tang Yan anymore; he was a force, a specter spun out of regret, willing to take hold of the strands of the destiny he had almost lost.

As the weight of his senses coiled around him like an iron shroud, he steeled himself for what was to come. Only fleeting memories tormented him—the ghosts of laughter, the heat of a friendship that had withered in the face of dreams. He would return, not for the gentle warmth of love, but for the flames of vengeance.

???? Scene shift – Earth (past life)

In a darkened room, a lean woman with a sloppy bob haircut stood over the lifeless body of Anushka Singh, her knife wet with blood glinting under the brittle fluorescent light. "You shouldn't have betrayed Shiv," she breathed icily, echoing the ill will that gnawed within her.

Sirens wailed in the distance, a precursor to anarchy. She turned without a second thought, ascended the balcony rail, and dropped into the night, a shadow consumed by black.

???? In an Far away place, a boy of 9

Standing in a small glade was a boy who was slightly plump, his eyes shining with the burden of a thousand unspoken stories, each speaking to a knowledge older than his years. The merry-go-round of power and treachery had only just started, but the heart that governed every choice hammered hard.

The past had been a ghostly presence, and the future stretched out ahead, full of possibility and suffering, to be grabbed. "Shiv," he said to himself, "I am a boy now. Now we can be best friends, just as you always wanted.