Black Magic Rose Chapter 26
byChapter 26: Alliance of Accomplices
Absolute darkness was not nothingness; it was a viscous, seemingly living substance that enveloped Wen Jingheng, instantly stripping him away from the wind and clamor at the cliff’s edge. There was no sound, no light, only a strange sense of weightlessness and a feeling of being gently (or perhaps indifferently) wrapped by some colossal will. His last conscious thought rested on the cool hand he was gripping tightly, and Shu Yijin’s crimson eyes, which seemed to burn with an eternal flame.
He didn’t know how long passed—perhaps an instant, perhaps an eternity—before the darkness surrounding him began to flow and thin out. A hard, cold sensation met his feet, the rough texture characteristic of ancient stone. A faint sliver of light pierced the gloom, gradually expanding.
Wen Jingheng blinked, adjusting to the light. He found himself standing in an immensely vast space. The dome ceiling was impossibly high, stretching beyond sight, as if directly connected to the starry sky, except the “stars” were countless slowly rotating runes emitting a faint, purplish glow. The floor beneath his feet was smooth, black stone, reflecting the ceiling’s faint light and extending to the limits of his vision. The air was filled with a crisp scent, a mix of ancient dust and strange floral fragrance. It was so silent he could hear the sound of his own blood flowing.
There was no wind here, no rain, no pursuers, only an age-old stillness and a heart-stopping, immense energy field. Was this… Shu Yijin’s domain?
He looked down at himself. His wounds were still gruesome, but the bleeding had stopped, covered by a faint, black energy film that transmitted a slight numbness and the itch of repair. He tried to circulate his power; the Chaotic Energy within him, though still restless, no longer showed signs of spiraling out of control, as if subtly soothed and restrained by the space’s energy field.
“Welcome to the Eternal Night Palace.”
Shu Yijin’s voice sounded from behind him, lazy and carrying a hint of barely perceptible pleasure.
Wen Jingheng turned around. Shu Yijin stood a few steps away. The black parasol was gone. He was still clad in crimson robes with ink-black hair, his crimson eyes glowing with an eerie luster in the dim light. He was observing Wen Jingheng with keen interest, as if admiring a newly acquired, precious artifact awaiting refinement.
“How does it feel?” Shu Yijin took a few steps closer, his fingertip casually brushing the wound on Wen Jingheng’s shoulder covered by the energy film. The gesture was flippant, yet carried an inhuman precision. “My power is far more interesting than those quacks’ herbal remedies.”
The touch caused Wen Jingheng’s body to stiffen almost imperceptibly. It wasn’t disgust, but an unfamiliar discomfort at being casually handled by a superior existence, and… a trace of dependence after surviving a near-death experience, which he was unwilling to admit even to himself.
“Where is this place?” Wen Jingheng’s voice was hoarse. He avoided Shu Yijin’s overly direct gaze and surveyed the bizarre space.
“One of my lairs.” Shu Yijin chuckled, turning and walking toward the depths of the space. His bare feet made no sound on the smooth black stone floor, like a weightless phantom. “Or rather, our temporary sanctuary. Those fools outside won’t find this place even if they turn the Earth upside down.”
Wen Jingheng followed in silence. The ground beneath his feet offered stable support, but the turmoil in his heart was far from settled. He had become a wanted criminal, allied with the Evil God, hiding in this place that defied all logic. Everything had happened too fast, too quickly for him to contemplate right or wrong, leaving only the instinct for survival and a sense of reckless abandon.
They reached the center of the space, where there was no furniture, only a massive platform naturally formed from some dark crystal. The platform’s surface was smooth as a mirror, reflecting the runes on the dome.
Shu Yijin sat down casually at the edge of the crystal platform and patted the spot beside him: “Sit. We need to talk, my dear… accomplice.”
Accomplice. The word stung Wen Jingheng like a needle. He hesitated for a moment, but eventually walked over and sat down an arm’s length away from Shu Yijin. The crystal platform transmitted a bone-chilling coolness that cleared his chaotic mind slightly.
“Talk about what?” Wen Jingheng asked, his gaze falling on his own disheveled reflection in the platform.
“Talk about our future.” Shu Yijin’s fingertip lightly traced the crystal platform, leaving a fleeting silver mark. “Or rather, talk about how to make those who betrayed you and tried to destroy you pay the price they deserve.”
His voice was soft, yet carried a cold, undeniable killing intent.
Wen Jingheng’s heart contracted sharply. Revenge? The word had once been so distant to him. He was the Savior; his duty was to protect, to quell conflict. But now…
“Do you hate them?” Shu Yijin suddenly tilted his head, his crimson eyes fixed on Wen Jingheng’s, as if trying to peer into the deepest corners of his soul. “Do you hate the family that treated you as a tool and discarded you without hesitation at the crucial moment? Do you hate those so-called compatriots who once revered you but could turn their blades against you in an instant? Do you hate your… father?”
Wen Jingheng’s fists clenched abruptly, his nails digging deep into his palms. Hate? It was more than hate. It was the despair and fury of being uprooted and having his faith collapse, the bone-deep coldness and madness of being betrayed by his closest kin. But the beliefs instilled in him for so long made him instinctively resist such “negative” emotions.
“Look at you now,” Shu Yijin’s voice was like the whisper of a demon, carrying a seductive power. “Like a stray dog, abandoned by the whole world. What are you still clinging to? So-called justice? Morality? Did those things save you when you were being hunted? Did your father hesitate even slightly when he issued the elimination order?”
He reached out, his fingertip almost touching Wen Jingheng’s cheek. The cold sensation made Wen Jingheng tremble violently.
“Admit it, Wen Jingheng.” Shu Yijin’s red eyes flashed with near-cruel pleasure. “You and I are fundamentally no different. We are both anomalies that the world cannot tolerate. The only difference is that I have long accepted this and revel in it. While you are still tormenting yourself with those ridiculous shackles.”
“Shut up!” Wen Jingheng roared, violently swatting Shu Yijin’s hand away, bloodshot veins filling his eyes. Shu Yijin’s words were like sharp knives, peeling away his self-deceiving shell to reveal the bloody truth.
Shu Yijin didn’t get angry; instead, he smiled—a seductive and satisfied smile. “Yes, just like that. Anger, resentment—this is the real you. Aren’t you tired of suppressing it for so many years?”
He stood up, looking down at Wen Jingheng, his crimson eyes glowing with the light of absolute control. “Join me, Wen Jingheng. Not as my subordinate, but as my… ally. Let us join forces and turn this hypocritical world upside down. The answers you seek, the retribution you deserve—I can help you achieve them.”
He extended his hand toward Wen Jingheng again. This time, it was no longer an invitation to salvation, but a contract for mutual descent into hell.
“Let us become their nightmare, together.”
Wen Jingheng looked up at Shu Yijin’s outstretched hand, at his crimson eyes that seemed to hold endless destruction and madness. In his mind flashed Wen Zhenghong’s cold gaze, the merciless muzzles of the elimination squad, and the twenty-plus years of a life that had been planned and exploited…
All the struggle, all the hesitation, were utterly drowned out at this moment by a desperate, make-or-break feeling and a twisted sense of liberation.
He was tired. He no longer wanted to protect a world that had never truly accepted him. He wanted revenge, he wanted destruction, he wanted those betrayers to taste the pain he had endured.
Perhaps, falling was the only way out. Perhaps, walking with the devil was the only way to gain true freedom.
The last flicker of light in Wen Jingheng’s eyes was extinguished, replaced by a dead, cold madness identical to Shu Yijin’s. He slowly raised his hand, no longer gripping weakly, but with a determined, equal strength, he firmly grasped Shu Yijin’s hand.
“Good.”
One word severed all past ties and set the bloody tone for the future.
Shu Yijin’s smile instantly bloomed, like a supremely seductive spider lily opening in the darkness. He tightened his fingers, pulling Wen Jingheng up from the crystal platform.
“Excellent.” He leaned close to Wen Jingheng’s ear, his breath cold, carrying a thrill of excitement. “Then, our first lesson begins now. Learn to control the true power within you, and then…”
His voice dropped, like the sweetest poison:
“…we will deliver a grand ‘surprise’ to our old friends.”
In the Eternal Night Palace, two souls abandoned by the world forged an alliance of sin. The Savior was dead, and the Evil God had gained his most dangerous accomplice. The gears of fate ground in the darkness, emitting a harsh, destructive roar.