Chapter 6: Rebirth

1768 Words
The world had barely begun to whisper of Ngwan Le’s death. Only a day had passed. The blood was still fresh on the ground where he fell. And yet, in that very place, something stirred. Not the fragile gasp of a fleeting life. But something heavier, sharper, something that once commanded the world’s deference the moment it drew breath. It wasn’t a birth, but a rebirth, Ngwan Le Tou. From the ether, a spiritual black flame coalesced. It hung in the air like a single, suspended drop of ink. From within its depths, a shape resolved as the flame stretched, preserving its form even as it expanded. A spiritual being? Coated in shadow, the materialized form took on a human silhouette. A man, perhaps twenty-one years of age, stood where the flame had been, blinking. “Oh, my head. Where am I?” Ngwan Le said, his voice flat. “A righteous man like me should have gone to heaven… is that it?” His eyes widened, and his face went blank. Before he could speak again, a whisper sliced through the air. “Shut up, you foolish child.” Ngwan Le froze. His blood ran cold. Someone was here. Someone who knew him. He hadn’t even assessed his own strength, was it that of a babe, or a man? Ngwan Le had assumed he was in heaven, having met his end. Yet hearing that familiar voice sent a tremor of unease through him. If it was someone he knew, someone who had arrived in heaven before him, and knew what Ngwan Le had done to the weak, a confrontation might ensue. And in a fight, Ngwan Le suspected he would be the one to suffer defeat. Fearless, he turned around. Nothing. No figure, no shadow, not even an aura. “Oh, was that my imagination th—” “Really?” The voice snapped again interrupting his speech, and this time, a figure materialized. No larger than a fist, a humanlike form radiating like a miniature sun, yet cloaked in black, a spiritual life-form. “Oh, it’s you. Darkness. You’re… still alive?” Ngwan Le stammered. “What do you mean, ‘alive’?” Darkness c****d its head, a curious expression on its face. Ngwan Le, flustered, changed tack. “Uhm… by the way, where’s Light?” Darkness sighed. “First of all, you’re neither in heaven nor in hell.” Before he could continue, Ngwan Le cut in impatiently, “Then am I in-between? I’m sure this is your fault.” “Calm your mind… You’re not in-between either,” Darkness dispelled his thought. “You are on Earth, I brought you back. It was an easy feat, considering you never utilized me. As for Light, it’s asleep.” “Asleep,” Ngwan Le repeated, his brow furrowed in thought. Darkness placed a hand to its forehead and exclaimed, “Man, you wielded the power of Light every day of your life and then you died. What did you expect? The power of Light should have died with you!” It let its hand fall. “Tsk… if it weren’t for me, that thing wouldn’t even be in this state.” “Ah! Now everything’s clear. I died and came back to life. And to think the power I had cast off as evil was the one that saved me.” Darkness leaned closer, its voice smooth as poison. “What will you do then?” Darkness asked, the same proposal it always made after hearing Ngwan Le’s words. “Mere existence amounts to nothing. Let’s kill them all.” Ngwan Le paid it no mind. He weighed the scales. With Light, he was helpless. A lamb for s*******r. But Darkness, though neglected, though cast aside, it still held power. Enough power to matter. Enough to rise. Darkness could grant him power, far from what he once possessed, but real and usable. Ngwan Le could feel the power emanating from him. Slowly, his lips curled into a grin. He had finally decided to accept this power. “I’ll use you this time,” Ngwan Le said slowly, “but it won’t be your way.” He lifted his gaze skyward, his eyes burning with something darker than madness. “No vengeance. No hero’s path.” His smirk widened as he raised his hands. Yes. “Neither true hero nor last boss. I will be a villain.” “A villain?” Darkness repeated. “Yes,” Ngwan Le confirmed. “A calculated, meticulous one.” A while after their discussion concluded, they departed. Ngwan Le wandered eastward, time slipping by, an hour perhaps, maybe more, until the path brought him before a towering mountain. There he stopped. From nothing, he conjured a short knife, its blade breathing dark energy that hissed and curled like smoke. “Oh, this power,” he whispered, his eyes gleaming. “It’s quite practical.” With a flick of his hand, the knife flew forward, carving the mountain as if the very rock obeyed him. In moments, stone folded and reshaped into an immense, cavernous dwelling, elegant yet menacing. Then Ngwan Le dove inside. 'Shwoosh…' “What do you think? You don’t even need to know the basics of house design to sculpt a magnificent home,” Darkness exclaimed as they walked. “Truth be told, your power is quite practical,” Ngwan Le replied coolly. He reclined upon a sofa woven from the same dark power. After he had already explored his new dwelling thoroughly. The mountain itself now felt like his throne. “Didn’t you say you wanted to be a villain?” Darkness reminded him. “What of it? You know I’m not much of a thinker,” Ngwan Le muttered, lounging carelessly. “Then let’s feast. A nearby village. Blood, chaos. A s*******r,” Darkness urged, its voice dripping with hunger. “A fine idea,” Ngwan Le admitted, “but before that, let me try something.” Ngwan Le concentrated. If he could form weapons and restructure matter, perhaps he could do more than craft objects, perhaps he could create life. He rose swiftly. Dark energy rippled at his command, swirling until it condensed into a figure. Ngwan froze. The figure was his mirror image. “He looks exactly like me…” he breathed. The double’s aura struck him harder than the likeness. The figure stood silent, its presence heavy. It radiated a power equal to his own, yet its aura was wholly alien, different from him, different from Darkness. “They call it a persona,” Darkness explained. “With my power, you can create as many impersonating personages as you wish. Each possesses the same realm of power as the creator and the potential to evolve independently, yet each life carries its own distinct aura.” “Why…” Ngwan started, but the word died in his throat. Why had Darkness hidden this? After all, wasn’t he the one who had discarded Darkness without giving him a chance? His veins pulsed with dark energy as he poured power into the construct, solidifying the Persona. It blinked back at him, breathing, aware. “Sit,” Ngwan Le ordered the persona. '‘Don’t tell me. No, uhm, just now, when he said ‘why,’ what was he thinking?’' Darkness wondered, perplexed. Even though Darkness and Ngwan Le were bound through their souls, it could not hear Ngwan’s thoughts. “Look at this map,” Ngwan instructed. “A map, where does it come from?” Darkness asked, ignored as Ngwan unfurled the plan without pausing. “There is a nearby village, not so far from here. How about—” After a thorough explanation of his first established plan, Ngwan ordered, “You, my persona, will bring this village to ruin, leaving only the younger ones alive. But before your stampede, I will go and preach, a gospel completely different from the one you will spread. Do not kill all the elders. You may take some captive.” Darkness’s thoughts curdled. '‘I knew it, he was going to do as he pleased. Here I thought we were finally going to s*******r them all.’' Still, the plan was already in motion. Then… “…Uhmn.” Ngwan Le’s gaze lingered on the figure before him. With a subtle wave of his hand, dark energy surged forth, weaving into a cloak that wrapped tightly around the persona. “You look just like Shadow Kagenou…” A faint smile touched his lips. “I’ll call you Dark god.” “Dark god,” Ngwan Le said at last, addressing the cloaked persona. “Yes, Ngwan Le-sama,” the newly named Dark god replied, bowing low with unwavering reverence. “Don’t call me that,” Ngwan Le muttered, his tone sharp. Ngwan Le’s creation, a god of darkness, was no different from an infant, blank and ignorant. Every step, every thought, every flicker of cruelty had to be taught. And so, Ngwan Le had spent the entire night shaping him, molding him into what a Dark god must become. Only now, in the stillness, did Ngwan Le find a sliver of time for himself. He drew a breath. The air trembled. As he stirred his core, waves of black energy rolled through his veins, licking across his skin like serpents. Shadows thickened around him, bending, waiting. “…The Fourth Cycle Realm. Hah. Not even half of what I once was.” He clicked his tongue. 'Tsk.' “Me, the Wall. Ngwan Le Tou, the Unbreachable. The Indefatigable. The one who reached the Unattainable Realm of legend. The Eleventh Cycle Realm itself.” The words echoed like thunder within the mountain. “Even the gods beyond the stars,” he spat, “only touched the Tenth Cycle. And yet here I stand, reduced to this husk. Forgotten. Stripped.” His gaze turned inward, memory blazing. “But I remember. I rose past legend. I shattered the ceiling of fate. I touched the Three’s Hold. After that fateful, dreamed encounter with that damn pillar of damnation, I pierced the Twelve-Dimensional Flow, opened the Four Orifices of the First Horizon of the Twelfth Cycle Realm!” “I was trapped for eons at the peak of the Seventh Horizon of the Eleventh Cycle…” His voice dropped, deeper than the abyss. “…but I broke through. I defied eternity. And now—” He clenched his fist. Darkness bled into reality itself. “—I will climb back. And woe to those who stand before Ngwan Le Tou once more.”
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