Raindrops, tinged with the earthy scent of mud, fell onto Su Yun’s only remaining eye, stinging so much that he couldn’t help but squint.
He leaned on the makeshift crutch, cobbled together from broken wooden sticks and rusted wire, and hobbled his way to the freshly piled mound of earth.
His frail body sat down heavily.
His back was hunched, like a withered tree bent by a furious wind.
The damp, chilly earth beneath him was the resting place of the last family he had in this world.
Last night, right before his eyes—
His little sister had starved to death, still alive just moments before.
Su Yun lowered his head, staring at the empty right pant leg. His only remaining left hand was clenched so tightly that blood welled up between his fingernails, but he felt nothing at all.
He didn’t understand. What had he done wrong to deserve being ground down by fate, over and over again?
In his previous life, he had just walked out of school with his diploma in hand, eager to glimpse the world he’d longed for, when an out-of-control truck slammed into him. He’d barely survived, but ended up paralyzed from the waist down.
Not long after, he was diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer.
He struggled for three years in a hospital bed, enduring the pain of both chemotherapy and paralysis, hoping he could make it through.
In the end, a cataclysmic earthquake struck, and he was buried completely by collapsing floors.
Luckily, he was reborn.
But this time, it was in a world ravaged by a brutal war between humans, Wizards, and Witches.
His family had dragged him through years of hiding, always evading the Curse of the Witch, the Spell of the Wizard, and the hunger and cold that followed in the wake of war.
His father, searching for food, was torn apart by a Magical Beast in the Forest—nothing left but bones.
His mother was blown to pieces on the spot by the aftermath of a Wizard’s spell.
His grandfather froze to death in the snow one stormy night, trying to keep them warm…
Now, all that remained was him—a cripple with a missing leg and a blind eye, living alone in this hell on earth.
Yet, even so, a spark called “the will to survive” still burned in Su Yun’s chest.
Gritting his teeth, he wiped rain and tears from the corner of his eye with his sleeve. The single remaining eye gleamed with astonishing brightness.
He had never seen the beauty of the world, never truly lived for himself—not even once. How could he die like this?
“I’ll give it one last try!” His voice was hoarse as he muttered, sounding as if it had been scraped with sandpaper.
“I must stay alive!”
“I will survive!”
He braced himself with the wobbly crutch. Each tap—“tap, tap”—echoed through the silent Forest, every sound like a challenge thrown at fate.
Every step he took pulled at his wounds, agony shooting through his body, cold sweat mingling with rainwater and dripping from his brow.
He didn’t know how long he walked. When the sky began to lighten at the horizon, Su Yun finally saw the open Plaza ahead.
In the center of the Plaza stood a crude stone platform, surrounded by a dense crowd—mostly sallow, thin children and adults with numb eyes, each face etched with desperation and crazed resolve.
This was the temporary Trial Ground set up by the Witch, Mo Qingqing.
Su Yun had already heard from other refugees on the road: if one could survive a single trial, they could become the servant of this Witch, gaining food to fill their belly and a shelter from wind and rain.
But the mortality rate for the trial was a staggering 100%!
Over the past months, nearly a hundred thousand people had tried, one after another. Not a single person walked out alive.
Even so, people kept arriving with their children in tow.
In a world where tomorrow was never guaranteed, even a one-in-a-billion chance was enough to make them risk everything.
Su Yun found a corner, sat down, and propped his crutch by his side, closing his only eye in exhaustion.
He knew the Witch appeared once every four days, and today happened to be her day to arrive.
It wasn’t long before faint cheers broke out on the far side of the Plaza—like drowning men clutching at driftwood.
Su Yun opened his eye, but he was too far away to hear what was happening; he could only see the crowd surging in one direction.
The next instant, the bright sky abruptly darkened, as if an invisible hand gathered the clouds together, pressing down so hard that it was hard to breathe.
Su Yun swallowed nervously, staring at the sky with his only eye, his heart pounding—The Trial was about to begin!
“Splash—”
With a thunderous roar, a rain of potion infused with a pale purple glow poured down like a waterfall, carrying a strange scent of jasmine, drenching everyone.
Su Yun immediately remembered someone’s warning: the more potion you soaked up, the higher your chance of survival—even if it only rose from 0.00000001 to 0.0000001, it was still a sliver of hope.
He struggled to stretch himself out, letting his thin clothes soak up as much potion as possible. The cold liquid trickled down his skin, burning faintly.
Soon, the potion took effect.
Agonized screams echoed across the Plaza—some clutched their throats and fell to the ground, convulsing violently.
Some clawed at their own skin, as if trying to dig out the maddening itch in their cells.
Su Yun felt searing pain too. His skin swelled rapidly, as if it might burst, and then a choking sensation gripped his throat; every breath felt like tearing his lungs apart.
More terrifying still, he felt every cell in his body rioting, betraying him—fighting madly to break free from each other, yearning for utter “freedom.”
“Thud!”
Su Yun couldn’t stand anymore; he collapsed heavily to the ground, his face pressed into the dirt.
His small, thin body trembled uncontrollably, his teeth chattering. Blood oozed from the corner of his mouth, yet in his heart he kept screaming—Hold on… I must hold on!
“Aaaah! Hel… help me!”
Suddenly, a shrill scream rang out nearby, followed by a loud “bang”—someone’s body exploded right there.
Strangely, there was no blood or flesh left behind—those shattered limbs and flesh instantly dissolved into more potion, which merged into the bodies of those nearby.
“Help… save me…”
“I don’t want to die…”
“Mother! Mother!”
Like dominoes, explosions crackled all over the Plaza; with each blast, another life was snuffed out.
Yet the total amount of potion didn’t decrease—instead, it grew thicker and denser.
Su Yun could feel it clearly. The pain became more intense, as if countless knives were twisting inside his organs.
Even his skin began to tear, bit by bit.
Only now did he understand why so many had failed.
But he no longer had any chance for regret; from the very beginning, there had been no way out.
All he could do now was give everything he had to endure.
He wanted to live—he had to live!
Time passed, second by second. The number of people in the Plaza dwindled.
Suddenly, the pain receded like a tide, replaced by an indescribable sense of comfort.
It was like being embraced by a mother’s warmth, like a spring breeze brushing over frozen earth, like plunging into a hot spring after a day of exhaustion—so comfortable he nearly drifted off to sleep.
Su Yun’s mind grew fuzzy; he even thought, maybe this was the home he’d always longed for. If he just gave in, he’d never have to suffer again…
“No!”
In a daze, a cry from the depths of his soul suddenly snapped him awake.
I’ll die! I’ll die if I give in!
A surge of survival instinct thundered through his mind.
He snapped back to consciousness.
He didn’t want to die. He wanted to live, to live forever!
Nothing could stop him!!!
On the high platform beside the Plaza, Mo Qingqing—whose face had been etched with disappointment—suddenly raised an eyebrow, a trace of surprise flickering in her eyes.
She looked at Su Yun’s “egg.” The once-swollen body was slowly shrinking and hardening.
The “shell” of skin was gradually keratinizing, growing hard and lustrous, like an egg about to be reborn from the ashes.
Mo Qingqing extended her spiritual power, and in the next moment, a cry brimming with defiance and determination echoed from the depths of his soul—jolting her usually unshakable power.
“I… must not die!”
“I will live. I will keep living…”
“Interesting.” Mo Qingqing smiled faintly. With a flick of her slender hand, the remaining un-exploded “eggs” instantly shattered, dissolving into potion that flowed into Su Yun’s egg.
In her view, those people had already failed. Su Yun’s transformation was the true sign of success.
As the new potion merged, Su Yun’s egg didn’t react violently. Pain and comfort cycled perfectly within him, forming a seamless loop.
The potion’s “egg white” flowed gently, beginning to touch upon the illusory laws of life itself.
Barely perceptible, yet unceasing.
Mo Qingqing slowly descended from the platform and stood before Su Yun’s egg. From her sleeve, she drew a pitch-black stone that gleamed with an eerie luster.
It was the Enslavement Stone, made from the bone dust of a deceased Lord of the Path—a rare and irreplaceable artifact, each piece more precious than the last.
This was a Slave Contract of absolute inequality.
The contracted could never betray the user; everything they possessed would be shared with the user, while the user could freely choose whether or not to share their power.
The death of the contracted would not affect the user, but if the user perished, the contracted would die with them.
Mo Qingqing sliced her fingertip with her nail, letting a drop of bright red blood fall onto the Enslavement Stone. Then she slowly pressed the stone into the egg.
The stone didn’t break the egg’s structure; instead, it quickly fused into it.
Once the fusion was complete, Mo Qingqing used her spiritual power to gently lift the whole egg, a hint of excitement in her gaze.
“Now, just a little more time… I suppose… whatever happens, there’s nothing left to break here, right?”
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