Inside an ancient civilization's relic tower, the ground was littered with severed limbs, suggesting a fierce battle had taken place.
A young boy was pinned to an ancient altar by an iron sword. The scorching, blinding blood gushed out, forming a river that seemed alive, filling the inscriptions on the ancient monument.
Suddenly, the boy, whose head hung low as if devoid of life, trembled his eyelashes, delicate as butterfly wings.
"Pain..."
Lu Zhi's consciousness gradually returned amidst the pain. He wearily and with great difficulty opened his eyes, only to be met with the despairing sight of an iron sword piercing his chest, blood flowing from his body along the blade, dripping onto the altar.
What on earth was going on?
Lu Zhi remembered. Last night, he had stayed up late reading a novel. Dissatisfied that the author had killed off his favorite character in the end, he had left a negative review. At that moment, a danmaku seemed to appear on his phone, asking if he wanted to change the plot and alter the character's fate. He had chosen... yes.
Was this his own doing?
But Lu Zhi didn't want to die. He was only eighteen, with so much youth left to enjoy. Blood was draining from his body, his vision blurring. He had to find a way to save himself.
He strained to lift his head, observing his surroundings to confirm if he had truly transmigrated into the novel. Seeing the severed limbs within the tower and the four black totem pillars, a flicker of hope ignited in his dimming eyes. A passage from the novel surfaced in his mind.
Whether it was real or not, Lu Zhi had to try. His pale lips trembled open, his voice dry and hoarse, sputtering intermittently, "I... Lu Zhi... am willing to offer my soul, and pray... for my god's descent... I am willing to become my god's... most devout follower... Love what God loves... Hate what God hates... I am willing to offer all for my god... until the end of my soul's destruction... I implore my god to descend..."
As Lu Zhi's words fell, the entire tower began to shake violently. The black totem pillars erupted with intense golden light from within, shattering with cracking sounds and turning into powder.
The altar emitted a dazzling radiance. The ancient script sealing the altar flashed with intense golden light before Lu Zhi's eyes, disintegrating into golden dust. With two cracking sounds, the altar suddenly collapsed, revealing a pitch-black, bottomless pit, as if the gates of the abyss had been opened.
Lu Zhi was helpless to save himself. His weakened body followed the collapsing ground into the pit, and his consciousness plunged into darkness.
Rumble—
Under a clear sky, lightning flashed and thunder roared, as if the entire world were about to collapse.
Suddenly, a red light, accompanied by swarms of black and red moths, surged out from the abyss. Lu Zhi, whose life or death was unknown, was cradled in the air by a man radiating scarlet divine light.
He stepped barefoot onto the collapsed stone slabs of the tower. Golden streams flowed and spilled from his black attire as he moved. His open collar revealed his fair, sculpted chest muscles. His scarlet, blood-red eyes gazed coldly and mercilessly into the void, devoid of any divine pity or compassion. A mocking curve formed on his thin lips as he said, "A thousand years. How have you all been?"
Boom—
Under the clear sky, a bolt of lightning struck down.
He stepped on the void, his footprints creating ripples of blood. The buildings behind him rapidly collapsed and vanished. The sky resembled a shattered mirror.
The entire independent space was rapidly collapsing and disintegrating.
The iron sword that had pierced Lu Zhi's heart was gradually consumed and disappeared by the black and red moths. Instantly, the blood on Lu Zhi's body bloomed into clusters of vibrant, blood-red Lycoris radiata. His pale and ashen face gradually regained some color, no longer appearing lifeless.
He released his hands holding Lu Zhi. The surrounding Lycoris radiata and moths gently lifted Lu Zhi to his front.
He lowered his gaze to the believer who had awakened him, his cold, blood-red eyes filled with amusement. He extended his hand, placing it above Lu Zhi's chest, now covered in Lycoris radiata. A brilliant pink diamond condensed from his palm and slowly entered Lu Zhi's body.
He revealed a devilish and malicious smile, his body dissolving into a flurry of petals carried by the wind. His departing back left only words that struck fear into the hearts of men: "I bestow upon you the power to slay gods. Go forth and slay them..."
My follower.
—
"Brother Lu, Brother Lu, wake up..." A woman's voice urgently called out.
Lu Zhi's eyes snapped open abruptly. The blue sky and white clouds reflected in his unfocused eyes. Suddenly, he gasped and sat up abruptly, clutching his throat and coughing violently. He coughed up a few mouthfuls of blood-tinged saliva onto the ground, his eyes widening in terror. It was as if he had been snatched back from the brink of death. It took him a long time to recover his breath.
He... wasn't dead?
As his consciousness gradually cleared, he fumbled and reached towards his chest. The blood on his clothes was still damp, but the wound had already healed.
Had he... succeeded?
"Brother Lu, how are you?"
Lu Zhi turned to look at the woman beside him. Suddenly, he winced and raised his hand to cover his head as an influx of memories, not his own, flooded his mind. These included how the original owner of this body had entered the divine ruins, how he had been killed, and how his soul had been devoured by the tower's curse. The woman currently looking at him with concern was his neighbor and childhood friend, named He Yao.
"I'm fine. Can you help me up?" Lu Zhi could feel his body was still very weak. Although his wounds had healed, it didn't mean the blood he had lost had been replenished.
"Uncle He said a group of fierce-looking people entered the village, threatening everyone's lives and demanding you lead them to the ancient ruins. When I arrived, I only saw you lying on the ground, covered in blood. I thought you were dead... sniff..." He Yao choked back a sob, her eyes reddening.
"I'm really fine. This blood isn't mine either." With a practiced white lie, Lu Zhi steadied himself. His head was still a bit dizzy, his body weak, and his lower back ached faintly, likely due to some hidden injuries sustained inside the relic tower.
He Yao asked, both worried and scared, "Brother Lu, where are those bad guys?"
Lu Zhi shook his head and said, "Let's go back to the village first."
He Yao didn't ask further questions. The two walked along the river. Before long, a simple, rustic village appeared before them.
As Lu Zhi and He Yao reached the village entrance, they saw the village men, young and old, wielding farming tools and marching out aggressively. The elderly village chief stood at the entrance, trying to dissuade them. "Don't be rash, don't be rash! Little Lu did this to protect everyone's lives. Wouldn't you be throwing your lives away by rushing out there? Those people have guns, we can't fight them."
"The ruins are the temple where our village's guardian deity resides. If those people barge in like this and anger the deity, our entire village will face disaster!"
"Little Lu is still in their hands, we can't just abandon him."
"That's right, Village Chief, please let us pass."
Lu Zhi, having inherited the original owner's memories, knew these villagers were simple and kind, and they had treated the orphaned original owner exceptionally well. Otherwise, the original owner wouldn't have risked taking a group of people into the ruins alone.
Just as Lu Zhi was about to step forward to intervene, seeing that the villagers were uncontrollable, the sound of a helicopter suddenly echoed. The villagers froze, looked up, and saw a black speck leap from the helicopter high above.
The villagers flinched and retreated in fright.
A woman with a curvaceous, fiery figure appeared in their sight. She seductively tossed her long, wavy hair and asked in a sultry voice, "Where is Lu Zhi?"