The moon hung high over the forest, casting pale light over the dense thicket of trees. Lin Jian's heartbeat echoed in his ears, each thrum louder than the last. His breath was ragged, his legs burning from the unrelenting sprint, but he couldn't stop. The bandits were closing in, their cruel laughter a constant reminder of the danger he was in.
He had been carrying out a simple task, an errand for his father: deliver a message to the neighbouring village. But fate, it seemed, had other plans. What should've been an uneventful journey had turned into a nightmare. The bandits had ambushed him on the road, taking him by surprise. The leader, a tall man with dark, calculating eyes, had drawn his blade and given the order to take him down. They wanted his life, and Lin Jian was certain he wouldn't make it out alive.
The first few seconds had felt like an eternity. Lin Jian had no combat experience—he was just a simple messenger, not a warrior. The cold steel of the bandit's sword gleamed as it was raised, and Lin Jian had frozen. He had no weapon, no way to defend himself. But as the sword descended, something within him had stirred—a sudden, intense heat in his palm. It burned, searing him from the inside out.
He had screamed in agony, but before the sword could land, something else happened. His vision blurred, the world around him distorting, and the power inside him exploded. A shockwave of energy erupted outward, knocking the bandits off their feet. Lin Jian could hear the sounds of their bodies hitting the ground, the force of the power propelling them backward, but he didn't see any of it. He was overwhelmed by the force inside him.
His legs buckled as he tried to process what had just happened. His hand—the mark on his palm had flared to life, glowing with an unnatural red light. Lin Jian's heart raced, but not from fear—now, it was from something else. This wasn't fear anymore. This was something deeper. Something more dangerous.
A voice rang in his mind, cutting through the chaos like a sharp blade.
"You have been chosen."
The voice wasn't his own. It was ancient, commanding, and it reverberated through his very soul. Lin Jian's eyes widened. His chest tightened, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts. What did it mean? Chosen for what? The world around him seemed to grow still, the noises of the forest fading into the background as he struggled to comprehend what had just happened.
He stumbled backward, his palm still hot with the mark's burning energy. The bandits were groaning on the ground, but they had been knocked out cold. Lin Jian barely noticed them. The power within him had become his sole focus. It surged and pulsed, alive and demanding.
"You have been chosen," the voice repeated, this time more insistent. It felt like an order. Like a command that Lin Jian couldn't deny.
His thoughts were a blur, and the pain in his chest intensified. What was this power? Where had it come from? Was it a curse? Or was he somehow chosen for something greater? There was no time to figure it out. The bandits would recover soon. He had to run.
Without thinking, Lin Jian turned and bolted into the forest, his legs moving as though on their own. His heart hammered in his chest, each beat matching the rhythm of his footfalls. But it wasn't just the fear of the bandits that drove him forward. It was something else—the power within him, pulling him onward. He didn't know where he was going, only that he had to escape. The energy inside him was like a living thing, squirming and twisting, demanding to be set free.
As he ran, the trees seemed to close in on him, their branches twisting and bending in unnatural ways. The air grew thicker, the shadows deeper. The forest was changing, and Lin Jian could feel it.
He ran for what felt like hours, until his legs gave out beneath him. He collapsed onto the forest floor, panting and drenched in sweat. His heart was still racing, his breath still uneven, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something else was at play. The power inside him wasn't gone. It lingered, pulsating with an insistent hunger.
Lin Jian gritted his teeth, clutching at the dirt beneath him. The voice had returned, louder this time, echoing in his mind.
"The path you walk is not your own. You will face trials, and you will be tested. Will you rise to the challenge, Lin Jian? Will you accept your fate?"
Fate? Trials? What did that even mean? Lin Jian didn't understand. His world had been simple—until now. He was just a boy from a quiet village. He had no training, no destiny. He had no idea what to do with this power, this curse that had been thrust upon him.
The forest around him seemed to grow quieter, the eerie stillness filling the air like a heavy fog. Lin Jian shivered as the mark on his palm pulsed again, the heat radiating from it almost unbearable.
He knew one thing for certain: there was no going back. Whatever this was, whatever had chosen him, there was no escaping it now. The power was a part of him. And it was only just beginning.