NOVEL NEXT Chapter 1: Chapter 1: The Flickering Flame
The quiet mountain air was cold, carrying the faint scent of pine. Zhen Yang, barely ten years old, huddled against a jagged rock, his breath fogging in the chilly night. His body trembled, weak from days of hunger, but his eyes burned with something deeper—a spark of determination.He wasn't always like this. Just weeks ago, he was the overlooked third son of the powerful Zhen family. They called him useless, a shadow cast by his elder brothers, Zhen Liang and Zhen Hao. But Zhen Yang didn't care. He never wanted power, wealth, or to compete for the position of family patriarch. All he wanted was a simple life.
Fate, however, was cruel.
The memory of that night haunted him. He'd been walking back to his room when he overheard them—servants whispering about a plot. Zhen Hao had ordered his death. Zhen Yang laughed it off at first, thinking it was just another attempt to intimidate him. But the assassins came, blades glinting in the moonlight. They left him for dead in the forest, bleeding and broken.Now, here he was, barely clinging to life. The spark in his eyes dimmed as exhaustion crept in. "Am I really going to die here?" he thought. The weight of despair crushed him, but just as his consciousness began to fade, a low growl echoed through the trees.A shadow emerged from the darkness—a monstrous wolf, its fur black as night and its eyes glowing crimson. Zhen Yang's heart raced as the beast approached, each step heavy and deliberate. He tried to move, to run, but his body refused to obey.
The wolf lunged.
Zhen Yang scrambled back, his hand brushing against something cold and sharp. A jagged rock. With the last of his strength, he swung it at the beast, striking its jaw. The wolf snarled in pain but didn't back down. It was toying with him, savoring the moment.
"No," Zhen Yang muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "I won't die like this."
Just as the wolf pounced again, the ground beneath them crumbled. Zhen Yang screamed as they both fell into the abyss below. The world spun, and then there was darkness.When Zhen Yang opened his eyes, he found himself in a strange cave. The walls shimmered with an eerie red light, and the air was thick with the scent of iron. In the center of the cave lay a book, its cover made of something disturbingly familiar—human flesh. The pages glowed faintly, their text written in what looked like blood.Drawn by an inexplicable force, Zhen Yang crawled toward the book. The moment his fingers touched its surface, a searing pain shot through his body. His mind was flooded with images—visions of a world consumed by fire and blood, of a throne made from the bones of the fallen, and of a man standing atop it all. That man… was him.
Something snapped inside him. He began to laugh, the sound echoing through the cave. It wasn't the laugh of a child but something darker, more sinister. Humanity—the warmth, the compassion he once held—was gone. What remained was a cold, unyielding resolve.
The book's blood-red text came alive, swirling around Zhen Yang like a storm. The words seeped into his skin, burning their way into his very soul. The pain was unbearable, but he didn't scream. Instead, he welcomed it.When the light faded, the cave was empty. The book was gone, its knowledge now a part of him. Zhen Yang stood, his once frail body now brimming with power. The crimson flame in his eyes had become a roaring inferno.The wolf—battered and broken from the fall—lay a few feet away, whimpering. Zhen Yang approached it, his movements calm and deliberate. He knelt beside the creature, placing a hand on its head.
"You should have killed me when you had the chance," he said softly, before snapping its neck with a single motion.Hunger gnawed at him, and without hesitation, he tore into the wolf's flesh, devouring it raw. The taste was bitter, but he didn't care. This was survival.By the time Zhen Yang emerged from the cave, the sun was rising. The boy who had been cast aside, left to die, was gone. In his place stood something else entirely—a being shaped by suffering, forged in blood, and driven by an unrelenting desire to reclaim what was rightfully his.
"Zhen Hao," he murmured, his voice cold and steady. "You wanted me dead. Now you've given me a reason to live."The crimson flame in his eyes flared. This was only the beginning.