A strange light descended from the sky—
It wasn't just ordinary light, but one infused with a demonic aura and a bizarre spiritual force that twisted the very air around it.
It struck the silent forest…
…falling upon a lifeless body lying among a pile of corpses.
---
…
Yao opened his eyes to the sound of birdsong and the rustling of leaves in the wind.
He felt the biting chill in the air, and the scent of damp earth filled his nose.
Looking down at his hands, he knew immediately—
This body wasn't his.
He slowly sat up amidst the darkness of the forest. The moonlight filtering through the canopy painted a surreal pattern of shadows on the ground littered with dry leaves.
"…Where is this place?" Yao murmured.
His voice was hoarse—unfamiliar.
Memories began to blur—
Fragments of Yao's past blended with the memories of someone else.
---
Deep within the forest—
A frail young man, his clothes caked with mud and filth, stumbled alongside a girl dressed in once-luxurious garments now equally stained.
They were fleeing—weak and desperate—from three men who pursued them with lazy confidence, like lions certain of their prey.
"Hey, look at that servant," one of the men sneered.
"Weaker than a farmer," another laughed.
"Hah! And this is a noble family? Keeping trash like that?"
The servant tripped and collapsed, gasping for breath.
The girl froze, turning back.
"Ming! Get up! They're almost here!"
Her voice trembled despite her attempt to sound brave.
The young man looked up—his eyes held no despair, only resignation.
"Miss Ruoyang… go. Just a bit farther ahead, the clan's people will be waiting."
"But—"
"Please… just go."
She clenched her fists, choking back tears, and turned to run.
Ming smiled faintly, content that at least she would be safe.
"Damn it! Wasn't the target the Ruò clan's granddaughter?" one thug cursed.
"Don't let her get away! After her!"
They tried to run past Ming, but he spread his arms to block them.
"Out of the way!"
Ming remained still.
"You want to die!?"
He smiled, speaking slowly.
"Try me… you pathetic scum."
"Filthy beggar!" one of them spat and drew a sword—thin, long, and sharp like a bamboo leaf.
He slashed at Ming without hesitation.
But before the blade could strike, Ming whispered—
"Gar, the Thief… steal me that sword."
Fwoosh! The weapon vanished from the thug's hand—
And reappeared in Ming's.
"W-What!?"
Ming didn't waste the moment.
He swung—diagonally.
Slash!
A head hit the ground.
"Boss!!"
The remaining two froze, then charged in fury.
One kicked Ming violently—his body flew back and crashed into the ground, leaves scattering.
Footsteps approached fast.
Ming gripped the stolen sword tightly. His hand trembled.
The power of "Gar the Thief" had been used—no second chance.
"That sword won't save you again!"
Ming narrowly dodged a blow, backing behind a tree, luring them apart.
"Split up! Surround him!"
He gritted his teeth. His thoughts raced.
> "If I can just take one or two down with me…"
One charged. Ming ducked low and slashed behind the man's knee.
A scream echoed.
Ming grabbed a stone and hurled it hard into the attacker's head.
Thunk!
Silence.
The last man came at him, sword raised, attacking wildly.
Their blades clashed with a loud clang.
Ming held his ground. His arms shuddered. His sword chipped under pressure.
"You're done!"
Ming chuckled weakly.
"Yes… but I still have enough strength to drag you to hell with me."
The man lunged again—
Ming met him head-on.
Slash!
… Slash!
Blood sprayed over the surrounding leaves.
The man fell, eyes wide, before going still.
Ming collapsed. Blood flowed from his wounds.
His grip on the sword remained tight, though his strength was fading fast.
He panted. His breath rasped against the silence of the forest.
He looked up at the moon through the canopy—
Its pale light still shone down on a merciless world.
> "Safe… at least… she's safe…"
A faint smile curved his lips, though no one could see it.
Then—
The sky tore open, a streak of violet-black light shot down.
Before Ming could react, it pierced through him.
Fwoosh!
His eyes widened—
A strange soul yanked his spirit out from within.
His heartbeat stopped instantly.
---
Yao opened his eyes again.
But this time…
He was no longer in the same place—
He was in Ming's body.
A wave of soreness surged through his nerves.
His legs were wounded, his right arm nearly broken.
"Agh…"
He flexed each finger. The sense of touch felt unnervingly real.
A whisper echoed in his mind—
"Who… are you…?"
Yao inhaled deeply.
The voice faded—
As if the original soul had either surrendered or been ripped away for good.
He rose slowly, leaning against a tree for support.
He looked down at his new body—
Bruised and battered, but still breathing.
"…Hmph. This beggar's soul was weak."
Yao could tell instantly—this world was nothing like the Celestial Realm he once knew.
"No doubt…
This is the Lower Realm. The mortal world."
Yao sneered, wearing Ming's face.
"Heavenly Palace… no—Sacred Celestial Realm!
I, Yao, will rise again and bring ruin upon you with my own hands!!"
He laughed—madly, manically.
Then closed his eyes, inhaled the scent of the forest once more,
And walked forward at a slow, deliberate pace,
Amidst the rustling leaves and lingering stench of blood.
A demonic smile spread across his lips,
and his eyes shimmered with a terrifying gleam.