Jalan setapak menuju bukit timur Desa Qianlong telah berubah menjadi sungai darah. Lumpur kental bercampur cairan merah kental mengalir seperti air hujan di musim banjir. Setiap langkah yang diambil Li Xian meninggalkan jejak kaki yang dalam, penuh dengan darah hingga ke mata kakinya. Udara malam yang biasanya sejuk, kini terasa panas dan lembap, dipenuhi bau karat yang menyengat.
Di belakangnya, Desa Qianlong—kampung halamannya yang damai selama 200 tahun—kini berubah menjadi lautan api. Rumah-rumah kayu yang dibangun oleh leluhurnya terbakar satu per satu, api menjilati langit seperti lidah naga yang lapar. Asap hitam tebal mengepul tinggi, menutupi bulan purnama dan mewarnai langit dengan warna merah darah yang mengerikan.
“HAAAAAA! BUNUH MEREKA SEMUA!”
Teriakan itu bergema dari tengah desa. Li Xian mengenali suara itu—Shanghai Hei, pemimpin cabang timur Hei Ye Ting. Sebuah organisasi sesat yang telah membantai tujuh desa dalam tiga bulan terakhir.
Li Xian bersembunyi di balik pagar bambu, tubuhnya gemetar tak terkendali. Melalui celah-celah bambu, ia melihat ayahnya, Li Tao, bertarung mati-matian melawan tiga sosok berjubah hitam. Jubah mereka dihiasi dengan simbol bulan sabit terbalik berwarna perak—lambang Hei Ye Ting yang ditakuti di seluruh wilayah.
Li Tao, seorang petani sederhana yang hanya tahu cara memegang cangkul dan menanam padi, kini memegang parang berkarat dengan kedua tangannya. Wajahnya berlumuran darah, mata kirinya bengkak dan tertutup, tetapi tekadnya membara seperti bara api.
“Dasar bajingan! Anak-anak desa ini tidak bersalah!” teriak Li Tao sambil mengayunkan parangnya dengan liar.
Salah satu anggota Hei Ye Ting, yang wajahnya tersembunyi di balik topeng tengkorak, tertawa kejam. “Bersalah atau tidak, kita tetap membutuhkan darah mereka! Ritual Jiwa membutuhkan 300 nyawa!”
Li Tao mengerang marah dan menyerang. Parangnya berhasil merobek jubah musuh, tetapi tombak panjang menusuk perutnya dari samping. Darah menyembur keluar, membasahi tanah kering.
“AYAH!” Li Xian hampir berteriak, tetapi tangannya menutup mulutnya sendiri.
Li Tao terhuyung-huyung, tetapi tidak jatuh. Dengan amarah seorang ayah yang melindungi anaknya, ia menggigit telinga musuh yang telah menusuknya. Gigitannya putus asa, seperti binatang buas yang terpojok. Darah segar menyembur dari mulutnya, bercampur dengan darah musuhnya.
“PERGI KE GUA NENEK MOYANG! XIAN'ER! LARI KAAAAA!”
Suara ayahnya serak, hampir tak terdengar. Dengan sisa tenaganya, ia melemparkan pisau petani berkarat ke arah Li Xian. Pisau itu melayang, berputar di udara, dan menancap di tanah hanya beberapa sentimeter dari kaki Li Xian. Gagang bambunya bergetar, seolah masih membawa kehangatan tangan ayahnya.
Pesannya jelas: larilah, Nak. Selamatkan dirimu.
“Xian'er! Kemarilah!”
Itu suara ibunya, Su Mei. Wanita lembut yang selalu menyiapkan bubur hangat setiap pagi itu kini berlari membungkuk, rambutnya yang dikepang rapi acak-acakan, wajahnya berlumuran lumpur dan darah.
Su Mei menarik Li Xian ke dalam saluran pembuangan kecil yang membawa air limbah dari desa. Bau busuk menusuk hidung mereka—campuran kotoran, air kotor, dan bangkai hewan yang membusuk. Di tengah saluran pembuangan, seekor kuda mati mengapung, perutnya membengkak dan mengeluarkan gas.
“Ibu, aku takut…” bisik Li Xian, air mata mengalir di wajahnya.
Su Mei memeluk erat putranya. “Dengar, Xian'er. Aku akan mengalihkan perhatian mereka. Kau harus lari ke gua leluhur. Ingat cerita yang selalu kuceritakan padamu? Gua di balik air terjun?”
Li Xian mengangguk, tubuhnya masih gemetar.
“Lao Wen ada di sana. Dia akan melindungimu.” Su Mei menarik bangkai kuda itu dan menutupi Li Xian dengan tubuh binatang itu. Baunya sangat menyengat, tetapi itu satu-satunya cara.
“Jangan lihat! Jangan bersuara! Bernapaslah perlahan melalui mulutmu!” Su Mei mencium kening putranya. “Aku mencintaimu, Xian'er. Jangan pernah lupakan itu.”
Su Mei melompat keluar dari selokan. “HEI! KAU BAJINGAN! AKU DI SINI!”
ASTAGA!
An arrow flew and embedded itself squarely in her back. Su Mei fell to the ground, but her gaze was still fixed on the drain where her son was hiding. Her eyes said: run, son. Live for your mother and father.
Li Xian bit his lip until it bled, holding back the cry that wanted to explode. His salty blood flowed into his mouth, mixing with his tears.
Above the drain, Shanghai Hei’s heavy voice boomed. “Find the jade-eyed boy! He is the key to the ritual! His dark energy is pure!”
Heavy footsteps walked away. Li Xian waited until the sounds disappeared, and only then did he crawl out from under the horse carcass. His body was wet with blood and foul liquid.
Li Xian crawled under the thorny bamboo fence that separated the village from the forest. The sharp thorns scratched his cheeks and arms, leaving small, stinging wounds. But this physical pain was nothing compared to the pain in his heart.
The ground beneath him was no longer ordinary soil. The warm mud was mixed with pieces of human flesh, scattered intestines, and still-flowing blood. His hand touched something soft and sticky.
Li Xian looked down and almost vomited. A severed hand lay in the mud. The hand still wore a blue beaded bracelet—a bracelet he had made himself for Wei, his village friend.
“Wei…” Li Xian whispered, tears flowing again.
Wei was only 13 years old. A cheerful boy, always laughing, who dreamed of becoming a traveling merchant like his father. Now only his hand remained.
Li Xian continued to crawl, fighting the nausea bubbling in his stomach. Every meter he traveled revealed a new horror. A severed head, a crushed foot, the half-burned bodies of children.
Finally, he reached the small river that the village children usually played in. But what he saw was not clear, flowing water. The river was filled with corpses—dozens of corpses of children and adults floating like logs.
Faces he recognized. Ming, the little girl who always sold flowers in the market. Ah Bao, the chubby boy who was good at catching fish. Auntie Lan, the pastry seller who always gave him free cakes. All of them floated lifelessly, their eyes open, staring at the sky with empty gazes.
Li Xian had to cross. There was no other choice. He stepped slowly between the bodies, trying not to touch them. The river water, which was usually crystal clear, was now blackish-red, sticky like syrup.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” he whispered to every corpse he passed.
When his foot touched Ah Bao’s body, the corpse moved. Li Xian jumped in surprise, but it was only due to the river’s current. Ah Bao could no longer feel anything.
Li Xian’s tears had run dry. All that was left was emptiness, a gaping void like a black hole in his chest.
After walking for almost two hours, Li Xian finally reached the hidden cave behind a small waterfall. The roar of the water falling from a height of 20 meters covered the terrible sounds from the village. Here, at least, there was peace.
The cave was dark and damp. The air inside was cold, smelling of grave soil and long-extinguished incense. Li Xian lit the bamboo torch that was always kept at the mouth of the cave.
The torchlight illuminated the inside of the cave. In the center of the room stood a cracked statue of the ancient God of War. The two-meter-tall statue wore armor and held a sword, but its jade eyes were missing, leaving empty sockets that seemed to stare sadly.
“Lao Wen! Lao Wen!” Li Xian shouted.
On the stone altar below the statue, Li Xian saw the figure he had run to. Lao Wen, the 70-year-old village elder who always told stories about ancient legends, now lay in a pool of his own blood.
His stomach was pierced by a spear that was still embedded. His intestines were spilled out, mixed with the blood that pooled in the dragon carving on the altar. The bone rosary in his right hand was half-crushed, as if he had struggled until his last breath.
“Lao Wen! Grandpa!” Li Xian ran and knelt beside him.
Lao Wen opened his fading eyes. A faint smile appeared on his pale lips. “Xian’er… you came…”
“Grandpa, I’m scared… everyone is dead… father and mother…” Li Xian cried on Lao Wen’s chest.
“I know, child… I know…” Lao Wen stroked Li Xian’s hair with a trembling hand. “Listen to me carefully…”
With difficulty, Lao Wen pushed a black wooden chest made of ebony. The chest was carved with a dragon and a phoenix circling each other, with a rusted bronze lock on its front.
“Take… the Dark Heart Stone…” he whispered, his voice getting weaker.
“What stone, Grandpa?”
Lao Wen coughed, fresh blood spurting from his mouth. “Qianlong Village… was built on an ancient spring of dark energy. For 200 years… our ancestors have guarded it… so that it would not be exploited…”
Li Xian listened intently, even though his heart was still broken.
“The Hei Ye Ting… they are not an ordinary cult. They are hunters of dark energy. They slaughter villages built on springs like this… for the Soul Harvest ritual…”
“Why are they looking for me, Grandpa?”
Lao Wen gripped Li Xian’s hand tightly. His hand was as cold as ice, but his grip was still strong. “Your jade eyes, Xian’er… they are no coincidence. You are a descendant of the first Guardian. Your blood can absorb and control dark energy…”
Li Xian was shocked. All this time he had only considered his green eyes a genetic oddity.
“In that chest… is the Dark Heart Stone. A relic that stores pure dark energy… If the Hei Ye Ting gets it… they can open a gate to the spirit world… and release the demons…”
Lao Wen was breathing with increasing difficulty. “You… you are the only one who can stop them… But…”
“But what, Grandpa?”
“To use that power… you have to give up your humanity…” Tears flowed from Lao Wen’s eyes. “I’m sorry, child… this is a cruel fate for someone your age…”
Lao Wen lifted his trembling hand, touching Li Xian’s cheek. “Don’t let them get it… Qianlong is a gate… if this gate opens… the whole world will…”
His voice stopped. The hand that touched Li Xian’s cheek fell limply. Lao Wen was gone.
Li Xian hugged the old man’s body, crying in silence. In the silent cave, only the sound of his sobs echoed.
With trembling hands, Li Xian opened the black wooden chest. The rusted bronze lock opened easily, as if it had been waiting for him. Inside the chest, which was lined with red silk, was a stone that was unlike any other.
The Dark Heart Stone was shaped like a human heart, black as obsidian, but it pulsed. A regular pulsation, like a beating heart. Li Xian felt the pulsation in the air, 66 times per minute, exactly like a human heartbeat under stress.
When his finger touched the stone, a piercing cold sensation spread throughout his body. The stone felt alive, breathing, with a will of its own.
Suddenly, black smoke came out of the stone. The smoke formed ghostly hands that writhed, trying to pull Li Xian into the darkness. Sinister faces appeared in the smoke, their mouths open as if screaming.
Li Xian was startled and dropped the stone. The Dark Heart Stone landed right in the middle of the altar, and the ancient inscription carved on its surface began to glow with a blood-red light:
"迎你的新生" - WELCOME YOUR NEW BIRTH
The dark energy from the stone exploded, attacking Li Xian from all directions. The energy entered his body through the small wounds on his chest, flowing like a hot liquid that burned every cell.
The pain was indescribable. It felt like thousands of red-hot iron needles piercing his spine at the same time, burning every nerve, changing the basic structure of his body. Li Xian screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice breaking the silence of the cave.
“AAAAARGH! IT HURTS! STOP IT!”
But the energy did not stop. The longer it went on, the stronger it got. Li Xian felt his bones being broken and rearranged. His muscles twitched, his skin felt like it was burning from the inside.
In the midst of the suffering, flashbacks appeared in his mind. His father’s smiling face when he taught him how to catch fish. His mother’s voice singing lullabies. The laughter of his friends at school. The warmth of their small home.
Everything was gone. Vanished in one night.
“Why…?” he whispered in the midst of the pain.
Suddenly, a voice whispered in his ear. A voice that was not his own, but came from within himself:
“Do you want revenge?”
“What?”
“Do you want to live?”
“Yes… I want to live…”
“Live for what? Everyone you love is dead.”
Li Xian fell silent. The question pierced his heart.
“To… to get revenge!”
“Then surrender yourself. Accept this transformation. Become what they fear.”
Li Xian felt the choice before him. Die as a helpless child, or live as something else. Something that could get revenge.
“I don’t want to die a weakling!” he shouted.
He grabbed the Dark Heart Stone with both hands. The stone burned his palms, but he didn’t let go. He brought it to his mouth and bit it hard.
A terrible bitter taste filled his mouth. Like chewing rusty metal mixed with bile. Blood flowed from his injured gums, mixing with the black liquid from the stone.
“MAKE ME A DEMON!” he screamed with a mouth full of blood.
Immediately, the pain subsided. It was replaced by a wave of cold energy that spread throughout his body. His raven-black hair turned silvery white in a matter of seconds, 70% of his strands turning as white as snow.
His right eye changed completely. The cornea, which was once white, turned pitch black, while his jade iris glowed like a gem. Glowing blue-black veins appeared on his arms and neck, like the roots of a tree absorbing poison.
Most horrifyingly, a reversed swastika symbol appeared on his forehead, glowing with a blood-red light.
BOOM!
Dark energy exploded from Li Xian’s body, destroying the cave entrance and shaking the entire cave. Outside, five members of the Hei Ye Ting who were searching for him burned to ashes in the blink of an eye, before they even had a chance to scream.
Li Xian stood in the midst of the rubble, feeling his new body. He no longer felt weak or scared. What he felt was a terrifying power, flowing in his blood like lava.
Even more amazing, he could see the world in a different way. The life energy of plants and animals appeared as a glowing golden light. Hatred and anger appeared as red smoke. Fear appeared as a floating gray mist.
And in the distance, he could see the dark aura of the Hei Ye Ting like a black stain tainting the world.
Li Xian walked out of the destroyed cave. His steps were no longer those of a 12-year-old boy. There was a strength in his every movement, a dark and dangerous confidence.
He picked up a piece of jade from the broken altar—a fragment from the eye of the God of War statue. With the sharp tip, he began to carve something on his left arm. Blood flowed, but this time his blood was slightly black, mixed with the fluid from the glowing veins.
Pain no longer mattered to him. He carved character after character, forming a vow that would bind him forever:
"My blood is poison, my breath is a curse. I live only to annihilate the darkness!"
When the carving was finished, the wound on his arm glowed for a moment, then closed, leaving a scar that would last forever.
Li Xian tried to cry for his father and mother one last time. But what came out of his eyes were not ordinary tears—but blood. He could no longer cry like a normal human.
In his head, the voice of the stone that had merged with him whispered: “Annihilate them all. Don’t let a single member of the Hei Ye Ting live.”
“Yes,” Li Xian whispered back. “They will all die.”
Li Xian returned to the cave. With his new strength, he dug a deep hole for Lao Wen. His hands, which were once soft, could now crush stone easily.
He laid the old man’s body down carefully, folding his hands on his chest. “Thank you, Grandpa. I will continue your mission.”
Setelah menguburkan Lao Wen, ia membuat batu nisan dari batu besar. Dengan jarinya, yang kini dapat memotong batu seperti pisau, ia mengukir:
*"Di sinilah Berbaring Penjaga Terakhir Qianlong"
Lao Wen - Pelindung Gerbang
Semoga Rohnya Beristirahat dengan Tenang"*
Li Xian kemudian berjalan kembali ke desa.
“Ayah, Ibu… Aku akan membalaskan dendam kalian berdua.”
Akhirnya, Li Xian berjalan menuju sungai kecil yang penuh dengan mayat. Mayat-mayat itu masih mengambang, tetapi sekarang dia bisa melihat jiwa mereka yang gelisah, mengambang di atas tubuh mereka seperti kabut putih.
Li Xian melihat bayangannya di air berdarah. Yang terpantul di sana bukan lagi bocah lelaki berusia 12 tahun yang polos dan ketakutan. Siluetnya tampak seperti sesuatu yang lain—lebih tinggi, lebih gelap, dengan urat-urat bercahaya yang bergerak seperti ular di bawah kulitnya.
Yang paling menakutkan adalah matanya. Mata kanannya yang menghitam memancarkan cahaya dingin, sementara mata kirinya, yang masih giok, bersinar seperti permata hidup. Dan di kedalaman kedua matanya, simbol bulan sabit Hei Ye Ting berdenyut seperti target yang harus dihancurkan.
Li Xian tersenyum getir. Senyum yang bukan lagi milik seorang anak kecil, melainkan senyum seorang predator yang telah menemukan mangsanya.
“Hei Ye Ting,” bisiknya, suaranya bergema dengan kekuatan yang tidak wajar. “Kau tidak tahu apa yang telah kau bangunkan.”
Angin malam bertiup, membawa abu dari desa yang terbakar. Di kejauhan, suara tawa Shanghai Hei masih bisa terdengar, merayakan keberhasilan ritual mereka. Mereka tidak tahu bahwa di balik air terjun,
sesuatu yang jauh lebih mengerikan dari mereka telah lahir.
Li Xian—yang dulunya adalah dia—telah mati. Apa yang berdiri di tepi sungai berdarah itu adalah sesuatu yang baru. Sesuatu yang akan menjadi mimpi buruk bagi semua aliran sesat yang gelap.
Balas dendam baru saja dimulai.