Chapter 48: Ten Reincarnations: The Unquenchable Flame of Desire
A tear, dried up in the endless void.
When Shaohuo's consciousness regrouped from the chaos, he was sitting on a hideous throne made from the bones of an ancient giant beast.
Below him were the Eight Desolate Demon Clan crawling on the mountains. All the demons kowtowed to him, and the sound was like a tsunami.
He is the Demon King.
He was born like this. In his memory, he unified the world, was so powerful that he could destroy the stars with a snap of his fingers.
But his heart is empty.
It was as empty as a bloody hole pierced by a cold wind, and every heartbeat was accompanied by a tearing phantom pain. It was as if something most important had been forcibly gouged out.
He spread his hands out subconsciously.
On the palm of his hand, an indelible blood-red line pulsated slightly like a living thing, controlling his heartbeat, his breathing, and everything about him.
There is another name, like a brand engraved in the deepest part of the soul.
"autumn rain……"
He pronounced these two words unconsciously, his voice so hoarse that it didn't sound like that of an emperor.
Who is it?
My memory is blank.
But I just have to find it.
Even if it means overturning the world and shattering the heavens, we must find it.
"Send an order."
He spoke, his voice regaining the dignity and indifference of the Demon King, but revealing an unquestionable paranoia.
"Use all the power of the demon race to travel to the three thousand great worlds and nine thousand small cave heavens to find someone named 'Qiuyu'. If he's alive, I want to see him. If he's dead... I want to see his soul."
Once the order was given, the entire demon world began to operate like a sophisticated war machine.
He didn't know why he was looking for it.
This is an instinct, an obsession that is more important than his life and the throne.
For the first hundred years, he was full of hope and waited for news on the throne every day.
In the third century, he began to get anxious. The pressure from the Demon King made the entire demon world tremble with fear.
In the fifth century, he became numb and just handled his official duties mechanically, but his eyes were always looking outside the palace, as if he was waiting for someone who would never come back.
A thousand years of time passed in the blink of an eye.
The demon clan’s spies have traveled through all known worlds and even entered the forbidden areas of gods and demons, but all they brought back was “no such person” again and again.
It seemed as if this name was just a crazy dream of his that spanned a thousand years.
Until the last day of the first thousand years, an old demon soldier who was in charge of searching the abandoned star field brought back a trivial piece of news tremblingly.
In a small mortal world destroyed by the war between gods and drained of spiritual energy, a camellia grows on the edge of a cliff.
The flower was transformed from a strand of human hair, blooming stubbornly in the wilderness.
The Demon King disappeared.
He tore through the void and descended into that dead world alone.
At the edge of the cliff, the wind is as sharp as a knife.
The camellia was in full bloom, and every petal seemed to be soaked in blood and tears.
He reached out his hand, wanting to touch it.
The fingertips were an inch away from the petals, but they began to tremble violently.
He doesn't dare.
A panic that was enough to drown his soul seized him. He was afraid that if he touched it, even this last thought would be shattered.
He sat down in front of the flower.
From the mighty Demon King who unified the world, he turned into a white-haired, withered old man.
He watched the flower bloom, wither, bloom again, and wither again.
He began to speak to it.
"Have you seen her?"
"What does she...look like?"
"Could it be that she... doesn't like me anymore?"
The wind howled, but no one answered.
Finally, in the winter of the hundredth year, the last petal of the camellia was blown away by the cold wind and withered.
At that moment, the Demon King's life span also came to an end.
He reached out and finally embraced the bare, cold, withered branch, as if it were the most precious treasure in the world.
"Found it..."
He muttered to himself, a satisfied smile on his face, but his body turned into dust and scattered in the wind on the cliff.
The first life.
I searched for it, but couldn't find it.
…
The third life.
He became a hostage sent to the enemy country, suffered bullying, and was a rat in the gutter who was afraid to see the light.
She became a blind zither player with extraordinary skills in a small country in the south of the Yangtze River, and was admired by everyone as a banished immortal.
Each of them has a symmetrical crescent-shaped birthmark on their wrist, which emits a faint warm light in the dark.
Behind towering palace walls, his world was a gloomy one, filled with endless humiliation and torture. The daily mental exhaustion nearly crushed him.
Only her piano music can penetrate the high walls, and it is his only salvation and color.
At a palace banquet, the dignitaries of the new dynasty, in order to amuse themselves, deliberately knocked over a wine glass at his feet and ordered him to lick it clean like a dog.
"I heard that the hostages from your homeland are very courageous? Come, lick it clean, and I will reward you with a bone!"
The whole room burst into laughter, and their gazes were as sharp as knives, nailing him to the pillar of shame.
He clenched his fists tightly, his nails piercing into his palms, and blood was dripping.
Everyone laughed at him.
Only she, holding the piano, sat quietly in the corner.
He thought she couldn't "see" anything.
Later, the Xin Dynasty army captured the city.
The powerful official of the New Dynasty who had once humiliated him walked straight towards her with an obscene smile on his face.
"My little beauty, it's a pity that you're blind, but your figure is just right for me to play with!"
The powerful man's greasy hand reached out to her slender wrist.
"No--!"
He tried to rush forward like a madman, but was pinned to the ground by two soldiers and could only watch.
However.
clang!
There was a crisp sound of a broken string, like a loud thunderclap.
quick.
Extremely fast.
The weak, blind luthier, whom he regarded as needing protection, actually pulled out the thickest silver string from the instrument.
That string, in her hands, is faster than lightning and sharper than a knife!
Phew!
A thin line of blood appeared on the noble's neck. He clutched his neck, eyes filled with disbelief, and collapsed to the ground.
The whole place was dead silent.
She dropped the strings, and her spotless white dress was splattered with blood plums. She turned and stood in front of him, facing hundreds of fierce-eyed soldiers alone.
She clearly couldn't see, but she was "looking" in his direction accurately, with a satisfied and bright smile on her face, as if giving him all the "sense of security" in the world.
"Husband, look, I protected you this time."
Next second.
Thousands of arrows pierced my heart.
The sound of the arrow piercing her body became the only background sound in his life.
He broke free from his restraints, uttered a cry that was not human, and rushed over to hug her cooling body.
Turn white overnight.
He held her and sat in a pool of blood until dawn.
Then he committed suicide by slashing his own throat.
…
blame.
pain.
The unfulfilled desires and separations from loved ones in past lives were like maggots on the tarsal bones, corroding every inch of his soul.
In his seventh life, he fell into the realm of demon.
Want to destroy the world.
The six realms were terrified by his presence, and even gods and Buddhas avoided him. He became the sword of Damocles hanging over the heads of all living beings.
And she was reincarnated as the most ruthless and powerful law enforcement goddess under the throne of the Heavenly Dao. Her KPI was to slay the Heavenly Demon.
The indelible bloodstain between his eyebrows is the eternal mark of the love poison chain.
The blood-red tassel on her Demon Slayer Sword, swaying in the wind, resembled that bloodstain. She herself didn't know why she had chosen this one among billions of magical weapons.
A great war lasted for three hundred years.
From the Nine Nether Hell to the Thirty-three Heavens.
All lives were lost, and the sun and moon lost their radiance.
Finally, in the galaxy ruins above the nine heavens, her sword pierced his heart.
The power of the devil dissipated like a tide.
He regained a moment of clarity. He looked at the cold, beautiful face before him, felt the sharp pain in his heart, and suddenly smiled.
A smile of relief, a smile of sadness.
"Three hundred...years...you chased me...so hard..."
For the first time, her sword-holding hand began to tremble.
She stretched out her other cold finger and gently stroked the bloodstain between his eyebrows. Her movements were so gentle that she didn't seem like a goddess in charge of punishment.
For the first time, cracks appeared on that frosty face that had remained unchanged for thousands of years.
She whispered, as if answering him, or as if telling herself:
"As long as the chain remains, I will be able to find you again."
The words fell.
Her soul, under the horrified gaze of the gods, shattered into pieces, turned into stars in the sky, and followed him into nothingness.
It turns out that in every life, she has been looking for him madly in her own way.
…
The ninth life ends.
The energy accumulated by the "Reincarnation Guide" formed by Zheng Qiuyu's soul finally reached its peak.
The tenth generation.
The burning consciousness is not invested in any physical body.
He woke up in a chaotic place of death and end.
No body.
No memory.
There is only pure will that belongs to him, a fusion of nine lifetimes of resentment and pain.
Before his eyes was a huge throne built from the debris of billions of stars.
The throne called to him.
The chaos welcomed him.
He went home.
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