With a malicious expression, Xiang Yu clutched his wounded chest. His eyes burned with a mix of pain and fury as his grip tightened on the serrated whip. His heart brimming with hatred, he raised the whip. Each strike he delivered carried the weight of his tormented past. It carried the weight of rejection, the flesh torn from his back at his father’s hands, the thousand stairs he was kicked down, and the agony of bleeding out on that cart while demons discussed taking his demon core.
The whip cracked through the air, tearing into the Demon King’s flesh. The first strike drew a howl of pain, the second a guttural growl. With each lash, the Demon King tried to get up to his feet but Xiang Yu’s relentless assault kept him down. Blood sprayed, and the crowd’s cheers turned to silence.
Each strike tore deep, exposing the Demon King’s bones. Covered in blood the Demon King struggled to his knees. Xiang Yu’s eyes gleamed with a sinister satisfaction. He raised the whip for the fifth strike, but his father caught it, his grip ironclad.
With a roar, he yanked it its sharp blades sinking into his skin. He dragged Xiang Yu with it. Xiang Yu stumbled forward but soon he steadied his feet fighting against the pulling force. He gripped the blades on his end and they pierced his palm blood dripping onto the sand. The tug of war continued for a while but Xiang Yu knew this couldn’t continue. His mind-raced, looking for an opening.
He suddenly stopped struggling and allowed himself to be pulled forward. His fingers fumbled on the ground before grabbing a fistful of sand. With a swift motion, he flung it into the Demon King’s eyes. The coarse grains accurately struck the target. His father roared in pain his vision obscured.
Seizing the moment, Xiang Yu let go of the whip his body aching with every movement. He dove for his sword just as his father blindly staggered over while swinging his blade.
Xiang Yu didn’t hesitate. With a fierce cry, he drove the blade into his father’s throat. The sword pierced through, emerging from the back of his neck. Blood sprayed, and his father’s roar turned into a gurgle.
Xiang Yu crawled away before collapsing on the ground his chest heaving. His vacant gaze stared into the sky his ears ringing. He had done it. He had finally done what he had dreamt of doing ever since his father heartlessly slit his throat. He was now the new Demon King.
He sat up with a jolt and got up, his robes covered in sand mingled with blood. He staggered to his feet and with his hand covering his chest wound he stood over his father. His lifeless body knelt on the ground using the sword as a crutch.
Xiang Yu knelt beside the Demon King’s body his emotions complicated. He placed his hand on his father’s shoulder and whispered, "Don’t worry father... I will make you proud."
His fingernails dug into the demon’s chest cavity looking for something. The crowd of demons watched, trembling in fear while a few glared angrily fighting the urge to attack him. With a final twist, Xiang Yu pulled free the glowing red core. He held it with his hand slick with blood. It pulsed with a sinister light, the essence of the Demon King’s power.
Without hesitation, he crushed it in his hand, the energy seeping into his dantian. His body shuddered as the power coursed through him, amplifying his already formidable strength.
A demon servant, eager to serve the new king scurried over and whispered something in Xiang Yu’s ear. His eyes narrowed, and he turned back to his father’s corpse. With a swift, decisive motion he cut out the heart, its dark flesh still warm.
He hesitated, the heart heavy in his hand. Consuming it would cement his rule, but it was a step into the abyss. The crowd held its breath, waiting. Finally, Xiang Yu brought the heart to his lips and consumed it, the taste of power and vengeance mingling on his tongue. The demons began to bow, their fear palpable. They bowed to their new King.
Xiang Yu stood tall his body drenched in blood. He was a half-blood, but his aura was terrifying and domineering, making it hard for anyone to oppose him. His gaze swept over the arena as a primal force surged from deep within him. It was a power he had never fully tapped into, a raw, unbridled energy that demanded to be unleashed.
His eyes blazed with an infernal light as he threw back his head and roared. The eerie sound was a declaration of his dominance, a proclamation of his new reign. The very ground trembled beneath his feet, and the air crackled with his power.
The disturbance rippled outward, crossing the boundaries of the northern demon realm and spilling into the other three realms. In the mortal realm, the skies darkened, and the winds howled.
In the immortals sects , the disciples paused, sensing the shift. Even the divine realm which was usually calm and serene, felt the tremor. High above in the celestial palace, the Heavenly King was sitting on his throne his eyes closed in meditation. The shift however small was sensed by him. It was a distant echo that carried with it something sinister. His eyes snapped open his brows furrowing slightly. He felt the disturbance, the shift in the balance of power.
Han Xin lounged on a chaise, his feet propped up comfortably. In his hand he held a jade pendant with a delicate flower carved into it, the smooth surface cool against his skin. He let it dangle on his fingers the sun reflecting on its smooth surface.
Across the room Han Zhan was sitting on a low stool meticulously polishing his sword. The blade gleamed under the soft light, each stroke of the cloth revealing the weapon’s deadly beauty. His actions were careful, like it was his most prized possession. The atmosphere was harmonious with two cousins doing their own thing.
Han Xin suddenly thought of something. His gaze locked on the pendant slowly swaying from side to side, he broke the silence. His voice tinged with curiosity he asked, "Ah-Zhan, do you think I am ugly?"