namelessquill

Ten thousand years ago, eleven so-called gods united to seal a being they could not kill.
Not a man. Not a beast.

Something else.

Qing Yan — born from the wild, risen through sheer will — defied divinity itself. While others ascended through bloodlines and fate, he tore his path with claw, flame, and soul.

The gods called him a monster.

Now… they’re long gone.

The seal is broken.

And the Forgotten Beast-God walks again.

But something is wrong.
His power has evolved.

His soul is not just burning — it’s splitting.

Divine and Demonic.
Light and Ruin.

And the world? It's changed. Cultivation has become corrupt. Bounty guilds sell life and death. The heavens are silent.

But Qing Yan is not here to rebuild.

He’s here to devour.

“They feared me because I refused ascension.

Let them fear again — because I’ve surpassed it.”

Devour the Divine: Vengeance of the Forgotten Beast-God

Scene opens in the quiet of the inn. Qing Yan lies sprawled across the bed, hands behind his head, gazing at the ceiling.

Qing Yan (thinking):

Now that I think about it... a lot happened today. Way too much for just one day.

That strange beast in the forest... the tattoos... that bizarre energy...

And the way my Qi sense was detected...the clash of demonic and divine energy.

That bar manager—he was a third-rate information agent, but even he had no clue about those symbols.

He was about to mention something... "Black"—something. What was it?

Sigh... guess I'm gonna be busy for a while.

Let's sleep. I'll deal with those rats tomorrow.

Qing Yan turns on his side and drifts off to sleep.

Scene shifts outside the inn. A man in a black cloak perches silently atop a tall tree, watching Qing Yan through the window.

Black-Robed Scout (telepathy):

"No suspicious movements. He went to sleep directly."

Reply (telepathy):

"Understood. Stay on him. Report everything."

Scene transitions to a dim, underground chamber. Shadows flicker against blood-streaked walls. Around the room are crude cages filled with prisoners—young, old, even children—all in chains.

A figure stands in the center, the branch manager from the tavern. His face is grim, partially splattered with dried blood. His eyes gleam darkly in the torchlight.

"We've been monitoring him. No abnormal behavior so far."

Branch Manager (telepathy):

"Good. Report every single move he makes."

Branch Manager (thinking):

That guy... I could sense his presence, but not his power.

He even used Qi Sense. Was that just instinct... or did he pick up on something about those tattoos?

If he becomes an obstacle... I'll have to eliminate him.

No matter what. The plan must proceed... flawlessly.

His eyes glint coldly in the shadows.

Scene: Morning. The sun begins to rise over the distant horizon. A warm orange glow spreads across the rooftops. Qing Yan stands atop the inn, hands in his pockets, watching the sunrise.

A wicked grin forms on his face.

Not far away, another black-robed scout hides in the trees, staring at Qing Yan from a distance.

Scout (telepathy):

"He's standing on the rooftop... staring at the sunrise."

Voice (behind the scout):

"Oh? Reporting everything right away? Very dedicated of you."

The scout freezes. His eyes go wide as sweat breaks out across his forehead. He turns in a panic—

In a flash, the man's head bursts apart in a spray of blood and smoke, his body collapsing soundlessly to the floor.

Scene shifts to a group of hidden comrades in nearby positions, their expressions turning pale as they sense the disturbance.

Comrade (telepathy):

"...He's gone. Completely wiped out. Did he... just die?!"

Comrade (to others, telepathy):

"Our cover's blown! The target has detected us! Retreat—now!"

Back to Qing Yan. He's walking slowly, hands still in his pockets, blood lightly spattered on his robes, a soft smile on his face.

He licks the blood off his finger with a grin.

[TO BE CONTINUED]

Chapter 10 – Shadows Stirring