BOUND BY A MORTAL FLAME

The Eye Of Peek

*Chapter 7:🪞The Eye of Peek 👁️*

**{Devil Realm}**

At the far edge of the Devil Villa, beyond the black marble of the main palace, six massive pillars rose from the ground like silent giants. Each pillar was taller than ten men stacked together, carved from obsidian so dark it drank the light. Purple-black flames curled around their bases, and thin bolts of silver thunder danced up and down their length, never striking, never resting. The air around them crackled with pressure, heavy enough to make a grown soldier’s knees tremble.

This was the Eye of Peek.

Ancient Chinese characters, older than the realm itself, were burned into the bodies of the pillars. They shifted when no one was watching, twisting and rearranging like living things. No two pillars bore the same script. No mortal tongue could read them all.

Before the pillars, the entire court had gathered. Elders in blood-red robes stood beside armored commanders, their faces stern. Soldiers in black armor lined the edges, spears planted into the stone, eyes forward. None dared to whisper. The silence was absolute.

“Is everything prepared?”

The voice came like ice scraping stone. Cold. Deep. Final.

The great doors of the hall opened by themselves, without a sound, without a hand. A gust of heat rolled out, smelling of brimstone and ash.

From the shadows stepped the Young Lord.

Fue.

Handsome in a way that made the heart stop, with high cheekbones and eyes like molten gold, but there was no warmth in him. Only the promise of ruin. His black robes flowed without wind, embroidered with crimson flames that seemed to burn in place. His expression was devilishly calm, like a man who had already decided who would live and who would die.

He walked forward with slow, measured steps. Every head in the hall bowed before he passed.

“Greetings, Young Lord Fue.”

“Greetings, Young Lord Fue.”

The words echoed like thunder, a thousand voices as one.

Fue did not acknowledge them. His gaze was locked on the six pillars. He stopped before them, close enough that the purple-black flames licked at the hem of his robe but did not burn. Beside him, Mao stood like a statue, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Mao never left his side. Mao never blinked.

“Assistant Xing!” Fue called. His voice was soft, almost gentle. But in the Devil Realm, a soft voice from Fue was more terrifying than a scream. Even an ant in mid-air would fall dead from fear.

“Y-yes, My Lord!” Assistant Xing stepped forward, bowing low, forehead nearly touching the ground. His voice shook despite years of service.

“If everything is ready,” Fue said slowly, eyes never leaving the pillars, “why is it so quiet? Should I kill someone before you start?”

The words dropped like a blade.

Fear spread through the hall like wildfire. Officials paled. Elders lowered their heads further. Leader Mun, standing at the front, began to shake. He could not stop. Everyone knew what happened when Fue asked that question. Someone always paid.

Leader Mun forced himself to speak. His voice came out thin but steady. “Leader Mun awaits your command, My Lord. Shall we begin at once?”

He respected Fue. He always had. That was why Fue still listened to him. But respect in the Devil Realm was a knife. One wrong word, and it would be used to cut your throat. Leader Mun knew he was speaking at his own funeral.

Fue gave the smallest nod.

“Leader Fu,” Assistant Xing’s voice cut through the air, “insert the Kulun Mirror into the Eye of Peek.”

Leader Fu stepped forward. His hands trembled as he held the mirror. The Kulun Mirror was no ordinary glass. Its frame was bone-white, carved from the ribs of a fallen god. The glass itself was black, like a pool that reflected nothing.

He placed it against the center of the Eye of Peek.

The mirror did not fall. It floated.

A low hum filled the hall. The characters on the pillars began to move. They slid, twisted, reformed. Light poured from them, red and violet, painting the faces of the court in ghostly color.

Then the word appeared.

*LOSS.*

Bold. Burning. Impossible to ignore.

Assistant Xing lifted his head. “My Lord, the first Tribulation is Loss.”

Fue did not move. Did not blink.

The pillars shifted again. The characters danced faster, more violent. A second word tore itself into the air.

*MORTAL REALM. BINGHE.*

Assistant Xing’s voice rang out so all could hear. “The first Tribulation is Loss, in the Mortal Realm, at Binghe!”

The court dropped to their knees.

“Success and good luck on your first Tribulation to Binghe, Young Lord!”

“Success and good luck on your first Tribulation to Binghe, Young Lord!”

But before the last word left their lips, Fue was gone.

He turned into a column of black and crimson flame and shot straight into the Kulun Mirror. The mirror swallowed him whole. Mao followed a heartbeat later, vanishing into the glass without a sound.

The hall was left in stunned silence.

Then Commander Xin stepped forward, brows furrowed. “But…Assistant Xing, the Young Lord must drink the Ding Water before entering the Mortal Realm! It is our custom! If he does not, he will carry his demon memories and powers with him. He will not suffer. He will not learn.”

Assistant Xing turned slowly, eyes sharp. “Explain. For the benefit of those who have forgotten.”

Commander Xin bowed and spoke louder so the whole court could hear. “The Ding Water is sacred, forged in the Cauldron of Severing at the beginning of the Great Banishment. When the Almighty cast us from the Heavens, He bound our kind with one law: No demon shall walk the Mortal Realm with their true power, or their memories of it. To do so would be to tear the veil between worlds, to bring war back to the Mortal Realm.”

He paused, letting the weight settle.

“The Ding Water is drawn from the first tears of the Primordial Mother, collected in the Cauldron before it cooled. One sip seals a demon’s infernal core and clouds the mind of their past. For the length of the Tribulation, they live as mortals. They feel hunger, pain, fear, love. They can be killed. They can forget who they are. Only when the Tribulation is complete does the seal break, and memory returns.”

Murmurs rippled through the court. Even the elders looked uneasy.

“If the Young Lord enters Binghe without it,” Commander Xin continued, voice grim, “he will remember everything. He will be a god among ants. The Tribulation of Loss will mean nothing. He will crush it with a wave of his hand, and the Almighty’s law will be broken. The heavens will see. And the price…the price will be the destruction of the Devil Realm itself.”

Assistant Xing’s jaw tightened. His fists clenched until his knuckles cracked. “Should I call him back so you can tell him yourself?”

The words were edged with fury.

Commander Xin went pale. He swallowed hard and quickly changed his tone. “N-no, My Lord! The Young Lord does not need to! I misspoke!”

A sudden, violent wind tore through the hall. The flames around the pillars flared. The thunder grew louder.

Everyone froze.

For one heartbeat, they all believed Fue had returned. That he had heard. That judgment was coming.

“I need to take my leave,” Leader Mun whispered, voice barely audible. “Before my head reaches heaven before me.”

Without another word, he turned and fled from the hall. The elders followed. The commanders followed. The soldiers followed. None looked back.

Better to run and live with shame than to stay and die with honor.

The Eye of Peek burned on in silence.