Black Magic Rose Chapter 23

Chapter 23: The Illusion of a Hero

It was twilight when Wen Jingheng’s private jet landed at the military airport on the Northwest Desert border. The desert wind, laden with grit, struck the portholes, making a dull sound. In the distance, the ruins of the border outpost, destroyed by the Evil God’s power, looked like a hideous scar on the earth under the lingering glow of the sunset.

Lin Zhenfeng personally greeted him at the airport, his expression grave. “The scene has been cleared. There are no survivors. The energy residue is very clear—it is undoubtedly His doing.” He paused, then added in a lower voice, “But… it’s too deliberate. It’s like leaving a calling card, afraid we wouldn’t know who did it.”

Wen Jingheng walked down the gangway expressionlessly, the hem of his trench coat flapping in the wind. He wore sunglasses, concealing the deep eyes once hailed as “humanity’s hope,” and hiding the churning exhaustion and coldness within them. He did not respond to Lin Zhenfeng, walking straight toward the waiting off-road vehicle.

“Take me to the site.”

The investigation process was suffocating, as expected. Charred ruins, the air thick with lingering evil aura and a faint smell of blood. Technicians were busy collecting data, while Wen Jingheng stood silently in the center of the wreckage, sensing the familiar remnants of Shu Yijin’s power. This power was more immense than he remembered, and more… unrestrained. But strangely, in this scene of destruction, he keenly caught a trace of extreme disharmony—it wasn’t purely annihilation, but rather… an angry venting, even carrying a hint of casual display.

Like a meticulously choreographed performance, and the audience was him, Wen Jingheng.

“Jingheng, what do you make of it?” Lin Zhenfeng walked up beside him, his brows tightly furrowed.

Wen Jingheng took off his sunglasses, his gaze sweeping over the scorched earth, finally resting on a relatively intact broken wall. There, outlined in some dark red substance, was an extremely abstract pattern that made Wen Jingheng’s pupils contract sharply—a budding Black Rose.

“He is waiting for me.” Wen Jingheng’s voice was calm and emotionless.

Lin Zhenfeng also saw the pattern, his face darkening further: “Provocation! Naked provocation! We must immediately formulate a plan to surround and eliminate him…”

“No need.” Wen Jingheng interrupted him, putting his sunglasses back on and turning toward the off-road vehicle. “Inform the media that the Evil God has been severely wounded and has retreated deep into the desert. He will not pose a threat in the short term. Increase border patrols, and let this matter end here.”

“What?” Lin Zhenfeng was stunned. “Jingheng, how… how can this be? He clearly…”

“Do as I say.” Wen Jingheng opened the car door and glanced sideways at Lin Zhenfeng, his gaze, even through the sunglasses, carrying the pressure of someone long accustomed to authority. “Director Lin, you need a stable situation, and I need time to recover. As for Him… I have my own plans.”

On the return flight, Wen Jingheng closed his eyes to rest, his fingertips unconsciously tapping on the armrest. He had told a lie, a colossal lie. Not to protect Shu Yijin—at least, not entirely. Rather, he had smelled a more dangerous scent. Shu Yijin’s “provocation” was too obvious, so obvious it felt like an intentional lure. And the eagerness of the Wen Family and the high-ranking officials of the Supernatural Administration Bureau also seemed unusual. He felt he was standing on the edge of a massive vortex, and a single misstep would lead to his engulfment.

He needed time. He needed to step out of this predetermined “hero script” and see the full scope of the chessboard.

Back at the Wen Family estate, he was met with even greater praise and more secretive scrutiny. The media molded him into an unsung hero who had turned the tide, and the Wen Family used this opportunity to further consolidate their position. Social invitations and offers of power poured in. Wen Jingheng cooperated, playing the role of the weary yet humble hero, accepting interviews and attending banquets, but the chill in his heart grew deeper.

The Black Rose mark on his chest often pulsed faintly during these social engagements. Sometimes it was cold mockery, as if scoffing at the hypocritical feast; other times, however, it carried a hint of extremely subtle… concern? Especially when he was exhausted, physically and mentally, from navigating various figures, the mark would transmit a faint warmth, like a silent comfort.

This connection irritated Wen Jingheng, yet he couldn’t sever it. It had become the only real thing in this swamp of falsehood.

The turning point occurred late one night. Wen Jingheng was urgently summoned by the Elder Council, not for the matter of the Evil God, but because a cross-border transaction involving the Wen Family’s core interests had suffered an unexpected leak. The opposing party had obtained a confidential document extremely detrimental to the Wen Family.

“Jingheng, this matter concerns the family’s survival and must be handled by you personally.” Elder Wen Qingcang’s tone was absolute, as he pushed an encrypted terminal toward him. “It contains all the information on the opposing party’s representative and the meeting location. Retrieve the document and eliminate the hidden danger, no matter the cost.”

Wen Jingheng took the terminal, his heart filled with doubt. This kind of “dirty work” would never have passed through his hands before; the Wen Family had its own specialized “Dark Blades” for such matters. Why him now?

Back in his study, he cracked the terminal’s encryption. The data was detailed, and the meeting location was set on a private yacht in international waters. When he flipped to the photo of the opposing representative, his movement suddenly froze—he had seen that face in the Supernatural Administration Bureau’s top-secret files. It was a high-ranking member of an international supernatural smuggling syndicate, notorious for ruthlessness and possessing a large amount of blackmail material on powerful figures across various nations.

A sense of foreboding washed over him. The Wen Family was sending him to meet not an ordinary business rival.

He tried to contact Lin Zhenfeng, but found that all external encrypted lines were under unknown interference. The doors and windows of the study were also sealed by an invisible force field. He was under house arrest.

Just then, the Black Rose mark on his chest suddenly erupted in a sharp, searing pain—not Shu Yijin’s emotion, but a… warning! Simultaneously, he keenly detected an extremely faint energy fluctuation in the shadows of the study.

An ambush!

Wen Jingheng instantly exploded into action, his figure like lightning, rushing toward the shadows! However, the moment he struck, countless runes lit up on the four walls of the study. A powerful confinement formation instantly activated, trapping him firmly in the center! Four figures in black robes with blurred faces emerged from the shadows, radiating a cold, powerful aura, far surpassing that of ordinary Wen Family guards.

“Who are you?” Wen Jingheng calmed down, the Holy Energy within him slowly circulating, attempting to break through the formation.

The leader of the black-robed figures let out a hoarse laugh: “Young Master Wen, or perhaps… the former Savior? Someone doesn’t want you to continue being ‘in the way.’”

“Is this the Elder Council Secret Order?”

“Why ask so many questions, you who are about to die.” The black-robed man waved his hand, and the four simultaneously formed seals. The formation’s light intensified, the pressure sharply increasing. Streams of golden light wrapped around Wen Jingheng like chains, beginning to erode his power. This formation could actually absorb his Holy Energy!

Wen Jingheng’s heart shook violently. This was clearly a killing trap designed specifically for him! The Wen Family… wanted to eliminate him? Why? Because he lied about the Evil God? Or because he had lost his utility, and had even become a liability who knew too much?

In desperation, he fully mobilized his power, fighting like a cornered beast. But the formation was too strange; his energy was like a stone sinking into the sea, and his consciousness began to blur. Just as he was about to be completely confined—

“Buzz!”

The Black Rose mark on his chest suddenly erupted with unprecedented heat! A pure, domineering dark energy, completely contrary to his Source Blood, surged into his body through the mark like a bursting dam!

This power was not healing, but… forced fusion! The Evil God Essence and his own Holy Energy were forcibly blended together by the mark in this moment of life and death, forming a new, chaotic, and immense power!

“Break!”

Wen Jingheng roared instinctively, and the fused power erupted! The confinement formation shattered like fragile glass! The four black-robed figures were thrown back, spitting blood from the sudden backlash, their eyes filled with horror!

Wen Jingheng knelt on one knee, breathing heavily, looking at his hands, which were now faintly swirling with black and gold light. He was incredulous. He felt a power stronger than ever before, but also a strange, destructive instinct stirring within him.

The black-robed figures struggled to flee. A sharp glint flashed in Wen Jingheng’s eyes. The fused power moved with his will, transforming into invisible shackles that firmly pinned the four men to the ground.

He walked up to the leader of the black-robed figures and tore off the mask, revealing a stranger’s face, twisted with fear.

“Tell me, who sent you?” Wen Jingheng’s voice was icy, carrying a hint of malevolence he himself hadn’t noticed.

The black-robed man trembled, looking at Wen Jingheng as if he were a monster: “It’s… it’s the Elder Council Secret Order… not just us… the high-level officials of the Supernatural Administration Bureau… also tacitly approved it… They… they think you… have been contaminated by the Evil God… and are a threat… more uncontrollable than the Evil God…”

Wen Jingheng’s heart sank completely into an icy sea.

The hero’s crown was merely made of paper. The Savior’s identity was nothing more than a Discarded Son who could be tossed aside at any moment. When he no longer met expectations, or even became a new “trouble,” his former supporters would not hesitate to raise the butcher’s knife.

He stood up, looking out at the deep night outside the window. The city was still brightly lit, but it could no longer illuminate any corner of his heart.

He walked to the desk and picked up the obsidian cufflink he always carried. At this moment, the red light inside the cufflink was unusually active, echoing the mark on his chest.

He suddenly understood the meaning of Shu Yijin’s phrase, “This world doesn’t want you anymore.”

It wasn’t a prophecy, but an ending that had already been seen through.

Wen Jingheng put away the cufflink. The last trace of hesitation and warmth in his eyes completely vanished, replaced by dead coldness and a certain determined madness.

He needed to leave here. But before that…

He looked down at the black-robed figures slumped on the floor, the fused power condensing at his fingertips.

Some debts needed to be settled.

In the night, a silent cleansing quietly began. And Shu Yijin, deep in the desert, seemed to sense it, raising his eyes toward the east. A knowing smile flashed in his crimson eyes.

The chess piece was finally about to jump off the board.