Death - Chapter 1
Shaaaaaa
Flashes of lightning flash across the grey and gloomy afternoon sky. The scent of the muddy ground at his feet invading his nose, along with the earthy scent that came with the falling rain.
BANG!
Thunder echoes in the sky above him. The assault on his senses is not small; the loud and wet rain, the thunder, the light from the lightning, and the smell from the ground and rain.
The young man dressed in aqua blue, lined with white-gold ripped and muddy robes, dragged his feet as he walked. The white and aqua embroidered brocade boots on his feet fill with rain from above, making his steps heavy and slow—the silver tassel no longer danced along his waist.
His long black hair draped over half of his face, exposing one bloodshot left eye. His lips quiver as he wears a mocking smile on his face.
Dragging his two feet step by step through the heavy downpour—he had been travelling for the past three hours by foot from the entrance of his home to the mountains right before him, the pit inside of a forbidden area Deadman’s Wonderland.
Deadman’s Wonderland was an expanse of land surrounded by a dense, dark fog that enveloped a condensed demonic aura that no one dared to venture.
In the rain, he cries his heart out, but not a single tear can be seen on his face. The rosy cheeks he had three hours before had long since turned pale from the cold and wetness that came with the rain.
Choking on his tears and the rain falling into his mouth. He stops in his step and wipes away the water on his face. Looking down at the slender, pale hands that wiped his face, he clenched it.
Dropping his hands to his side, he looks ahead of him and calculates the distance. ‘About one hundred metres left.’
In the distance, the path leading up to the mountain was slowly drawing near. The banners sewn onto poles could be seen with the almost blood-like ink arrays marked on them.
BANG
The lightning struck a tree behind him; not feeling the need to look back, he continued to walk forward, one step at a time, one metre closer to his destination.
Although his head was hanging as he suppressed the choking and suffocating sensation from crying his heart out, he could see from the corner of his eyes. The sky was turning darker as time slipped away, becoming slightly eerie as he got closer and closer to the mountain path.
‘Is it still the *Wu period?’ he wondered, not knowing that it was already in the hour of the *Shen period.
(a/n: Wu period 11:00 am - 12:00 am. Shen period 15:00 pm - 16:00 pm)
With his mind turning black from exhaustion, his father’s phoenix eyes and sword-like eyebrows appeared before him. The look in his father’s eyes that represented hate and disgust.
Remembering this, his body involuntarily shivered, and the centre of his chest burned. Grabbing at the ripped fabric draped down his chest, Seungho pressed against it. He looked down at the black mark on his chest; before, the wound was bleeding, but now because of the rain and aftermath—it turned black.
The space between his chest used to belong to his “Core”. The spiritual core that stored his twenty-one years accumulated cultivation, but now—because—of himself—because he thought he could trust that man, the man he calls “father” all his hard work—gone.
His core was dissolved and the pain from it, along with the pain from his heart being ripped apart by his loved ones, reduced him, Yoo Seungho, to nothing but an empty shell.
Stepping down with his right foot, his balance was immediately put off and as he came to his senses right, his eyes widened. A sense of danger flashed through his eyes but soon disappeared, finally realising why he was here.
Lifting his head to face the heavens, his eyes widened, letting the rain drop into them, turning them redder.
Remembering his father’s last words, “You are no son of mine! Such a disgrace! Yoo Seungho, go sacrifice yourself for the sin you have committed, save my Yoo family and die one hundred times as an apology. NO! Even one thousand times won’t make up for your sins!”
Closing his eyes, he exhaled and stepped forward off the edge of the cliff. Feeling the wind blow past his face through his fingers and ripped clothing, he closed his eyes, not regretting the scene unfolding in front of him.
The dense fog covering his view made it easy for him. He couldn’t see anything before him, even though his body was falling.
Closing his eyes once again, the events that unfolded many hours ago ran through his mind. Tears begin to flow once again. His mouth trembled as he whispered the words, “Someone, save me.”
Normally when he was in trouble or needed help, the first person who he’d call for was his father. The second person he could rely on was his blood brother, who was thirty years older and more experienced than him—Yoo Seung Hoon, but neither of the two see him part as the family anymore, wanting nothing to do with him.
Seung Ho realised this five hours ago when he stood in front of them and after he left his family’s sect, which they exiled him from. He erased the bonding he once had for them, hating his family and clan with all his being.
This time, though he needed help, his family wasn’t the option. Calling ‘Someone,’ anyone who’d listen to him.
A few more seconds passed, then Seung Ho’s chest slammed first onto the ground. Still conscious and feeling the pain coming from his chest, his head hit the ground at the same time as his limbs, cracking every bone in his body, then finally his bones began to crumble under his muscles, piercing his flesh.
After his head hit the ground, it bounced back, snapping his neck, then landed on the left side, crushing all the bones on the left side of his face. This caused the right side of his brain pain and the right side of his body to feel extreme pain becoming motionless.
Seung Ho slowly opened his right eye, which was dripping and covered in blood. He saw that his right arm was lying not too far from him.
Blood seeped from his mouth and the other open areas on his body, pooling underneath him—he could see all of this.
Seung Ho’s eye slowly closed with tears dripping out. He was in so much pain that it hurt. This time he wanted to call for his father to save him, but he remembered what happened and how he got to where he currently was—the reason why he was in so much pain.
The feelings of resentment and hate swelled up in his heart as the faces of every member of his family and clan brothers and sisters came forward—at this moment, he hated them all.
Seconds after he realised this, a deafening hum sounded as if it came out from the mouth of a beast, sounded and echoed in Deadman’s Wonderland.
The dense fog above him turned poisonous green in colour and the blood from all the dead started boiling, creating a deep and bloody stench, causing the previous scent of blood to intensify.
