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墨書 Inktalez
Xuan Yang felt as if he had been thrown into a washing machine, spinning wildly, his head spinning and nausea overwhelming him.
When he opened his eyes again, he found himself lying on a cold stone platform. The biting chill seeped into his skin, causing him to shiver involuntarily. His stomach churned violently, as if an invisible hand was stirring his insides.
Surrounded by pitch darkness, he could see nothing, only a few flickering ghostly green lights in the distance, resembling the eyes of hell—ominous and terrifying, drifting in the dark like a group of spirits whispering among themselves.
"What the hell is this place?" Xuan Yang couldn't help but curse, struggling to sit up and scanning his surroundings warily. Damn it, this place is eerie; it can't really be hell, can it? he thought to himself.
A putrid odor filled the air, making him gag as if he were in a grave. The stench was like that of a thousand-year-old corpse, mixed with the dampness of earth, invading his nostrils.
"Welcome to the Judgment Grounds of the Shadow Lord." A deep voice echoed in the vast space, sounding like a call from hell that sent chills down his spine. The voice seemed to come from all directions, carrying a metallic quality that was unsettling.
Following the voice, Xuan Yang saw a tall figure slowly emerging from the darkness like a specter, sending shivers down his spine. The figure seemed to detach itself from the shadows, advancing step by step, each footfall pressing down on Xuan Yang's heart.
Dressed in a black robe and wearing a hood that obscured its face, only a pair of glowing green eyes were visible—eyes like those of a beast, filled with murderous intent. The gaze was cold and sharp as if it could pierce through everything.
"Who... are you?" Xuan Yang asked, his voice trembling slightly. He felt an unprecedented sense of oppression, as if facing a fierce beast. This pressure made it hard for him to breathe, as if a mountain were crushing his chest.
"I am the Shadow Lord and your judge," the figure replied coldly, its tone reminiscent of an infernal judge. Each word pierced Xuan Yang's eardrums like ice shards.
"Judgment? What crime have I committed?" Xuan Yang questioned, filled with confusion and unease. He had no idea why he was brought here for judgment. Judgment? He racked his brain for any wrongdoing but couldn't recall committing any heinous crime.
"You have desecrated the power of the Shadow Puppet; this is an unforgivable sin," the Shadow Lord said with anger and malice in its voice. It sounded as though it came from the depths of hell, filled with endless resentment and fury.
"Desecration? I just wanted to use it to protect myself; what's wrong with that?" Xuan Yang retorted, feeling he had done nothing wrong. Wasn't it only natural to use the power of the Shadow Puppet for self-defense?
"The power of the Shadow Puppet is sacred and cannot be tainted. Yet you have used it for selfish desires; this is blasphemy against the divine," the Shadow Lord declared with an undeniable tone. Its voice was like a divine pronouncement that allowed no rebuttal.
"Divine? Ha! I only believe in my own strength," Xuan Yang scoffed. He had never believed in any deity; he only trusted himself. Deities? They were merely fantasies of the weak!
"Arrogant! You will pay for your pride," the Shadow Lord roared as an immense power erupted from its being like a volcanic eruption, engulfing the entire space. That force crashed down upon Xuan Yang like an overwhelming tide, making it hard for him to breathe.
Xuan Yang felt as if he were being battered by colossal waves; his body flew uncontrollably backward and crashed heavily onto the ground, spitting out a mouthful of blood. The blood appeared strikingly vivid against the darkness, like blooming flowers on the other shore.
Xuan Yang coughed a few times, struggling to stand up. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, and his gaze grew more resolute. Supporting himself with his hands on the ground, he fought to rise, refusing to succumb despite the pain coursing through his body.
"Come on, let me see your so-called judgment," Xuan Yang said, his tone filled with provocation. He would never yield. Though his voice was weak, it was imbued with an indomitable spirit.
The Shadow Lord snorted coldly, his figure flickering like a ghost, suddenly appearing before Xuan Yang and striking towards his chest with a palm. The speed was so fast that it was almost imperceptible to the naked eye, akin to teleportation.
Xuan Yang hurriedly dodged but was still caught by the gust of the palm, sending him flying backward to crash heavily onto the ground. He felt as if his internal organs had shifted, the pain unbearable, yet he gritted his teeth and did not utter a single groan.
He knew he could not fall; he had to endure for survival and revenge. This conviction sustained him as he rose time and again.
The Shadow Lord closed in again, like the Grim Reaper, pressing forward step by step. Xuan Yang felt like a trapped beast with nowhere to escape. He felt as if he were prey ensnared in a spider's web, helplessly watching death approach.
Taking a deep breath, he summoned the power within him, preparing for a desperate fight; he had to find a glimmer of hope. He understood that he must take a risk or face certain death.
Suddenly, he recalled the black stone that Lu Zhiyuan had given him, inscribed with strange symbols that might help him escape this predicament. This stone was his last hope.
He quickly pulled the stone from his pocket and gripped it tightly in his hand. A warm current surged from the stone into his body, filling him with strength. That warmth was like sunlight on a winter day, enveloping him completely.
He felt his body grow lighter and his speed increase significantly, darting through the Shadow Lord's attacks like a bolt of lightning. It was as if he had been reborn, brimming with power.
The Shadow Lord seemed to sense Xuan Yang's transformation; surprise flickered in his eyes as his attacks became even more ferocious. His strikes were relentless and merciless, like a raging storm.
Xuan Yang dodged while searching for an opportunity to counterattack. He needed to seize any opening in the Shadow Lord's defenses to turn the tide. He knew he had to remain calm and find the Shadow Lord's weakness.
Suddenly, he noticed a shadow forming beneath the Shadow Lord's feet—a projection of the Shadow Lord's own power. This shadow stood out starkly in the darkness, like a firefly in the night.
A bold idea surged into his mind; he decided to use the Shadow Lord's own power against him. It was a reckless thought but also his only hope.
He aimed the stone at the shadow on the ground, unleashing a powerful force that shot toward it. The energy surged forth like an arrow released from its bow, striking directly at the shadow.
As if stimulated by this force, the shadow began to tremble violently before rapidly expanding like a black balloon, enveloping the Shadow Lord within it. The shadow seemed alive, writhing and swelling uncontrollably.
The Shadow Lord let out an enraged roar, attempting to break free from its grasp, but it was too late. His cries echoed through the darkness, filled with despair and unwillingness.
The shadows swiftly contracted, resembling a massive black hole that swallowed the Shadow Lord whole. That black hole seemed like a gateway to hell, completely engulfing the Shadow Lord.
Then, the shadows vanished without a trace, as if they had never existed. Darkness descended once more, and everything returned to tranquility.
Xuan Yang stood in place, panting heavily. He felt utterly exhausted, yet his heart was filled with joy. He had finally defeated the Shadow Lord and escaped judgment.
Suddenly, a voice echoed in his mind: "Congratulations, you have passed the trial of the Third Level." The voice was ethereal and mysterious, as if it came from another world.
Xuan Yang's heart leaped with joy; he knew he was one step closer to his ultimate goal.
"Next, you will face even more severe challenges. Are you prepared?" The voice spoke again, carrying a note of warning.
Xuan Yang took a deep breath, his gaze becoming resolute. "I am ready."
He lifted his head and looked into the distance, aware that the road ahead was fraught with unknown dangers, but he was no longer afraid.
For he knew he was no longer the weak and incompetent boy he once was; he was the master of the Shadow Puppet, destined to become the future Puppet Master.
He would continue to move forward, to protect all that he cherished, to seek revenge, and to claim his destiny.
Suddenly, the ground began to tremble violently, and a massive fissure appeared before Xuan Yang…
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