Divine Emperor of Death - Chapter 57: Twenty Days

Ein was a hitman on hire. A killer, a shadow, a death with insomnia, if you may.He had witnessed countless pairs of eyes dim as the light of life faded, leaving nothing but vile hollowness. Needless to say, the sight of a soul popping out of the dead body was a first.And it wasn't just any soul. It was the dead heir of Byers Holdings, the same guy he killed with his own hands. Turns out the rich boy Adriel had a horribly irritating and loud soul, but worst of it all - impossible to get rid of.Who would have thought that killing on a blue moon night could lead to being haunted?

In a supernatural infested world, we have the awakened- an elite group of people gifted with superpowers. And the transcenders- humans who consume divinity potions even at the risk of losing their sanity.And then, we have me who awakened with little to no prior memory of my past. Now trapped in a cursed, and wretched land infested with nightmarish creatures of all kinds.I; with the help of my latent time-rewind ability, the mysterious blue chaotic flame; alongside fragmented memories and unlikely allies made in the world of nightmares must find a way to escape to the real world.All while trying to keep in check a small yet dangerously fatal side effect.But the deeper I delve into this world’s horrors, the more I realized—I wasn't just running from the monsters around me. I was running from the one inside.Additional tags: Dark fantasy + Dark souls element, supernatural + psychological horror and finally:Mystery, tension and suspense + ground breaking lore and world building.

Some crowns are forged in blood. Others are drowned beneath it.In a city strangled by smoke and silence, where children are shackled to machines and shadows rule behind gilded masks, Keiran is just another forgotten soul—until the mark appears.Buried beneath the factory’s foundations lies a world long erased from history. Ancient oaths whisper through stone and water, and something older than memory begins to stir. As Keiran is drawn deeper into the abyss, he uncovers a legacy not meant for mortal hands—a crown shattered in defiance, a flood sealed by sacrifice, and a power that demands a price.Hunted by tyrants, haunted by echoes, and bound to secrets he never asked for, Keiran must choose: drown in the tide of what came before, or rise against the current and reclaim what the world was forced to forget.But the deeper he goes, the more the truth unravels…And beneath it all, something still breathes.

Tang Qiu was a substitute bride–forced to take her half-sister’s place and marry the young master of the Jiang family, a deformed cripple with less than 6 months left to live.

“Who would have thought that even a sickly whelp like Jiang Shaocheng would find himself a bride?”

“I hear that he’s practically on his deathbed and he’s only marrying the Fengs’ daughter to improve his lifespan.”

Tang Qiu ignored the whispers around her and focused on her husband-to-be, who coughed violently in his wheelchair. At the altar, after they had said their vows, she lifted her veil and knelt in front of Jiang Shaocheng, pressing a hesitant kiss to his lips.

The marriage contract was signed. No matter his physical deformities, he was now her husband.

She wasn’t afraid of the scars that marked his face, nor was she repulsed by him being confined to a wheelchair. Every morning, she made him breakfast, attended to his needs, and thought of little else beyond her duties as a wife.

“Young Master Jiang is a cripple who can’t get it up,” her best friend argued. “When he dies, you’ll still be untouched. You should set your sights higher.”

“A sickly invalid like Jiang Shaocheng can’t give you happiness,” her ex-boyfriend insisted. “I’ll wait for you.”

But Young Master Jiang only scoffed. “I have plenty of time left to be with her.”

Later in their marriage, Jiang Shaocheng wanted to enjoy his little wife in all ways–the press of her lips against his, the brush of skin on skin; the way a husband and wife were supposed to. But Tang Qiu refused him, blushing. “No, we can’t. The doctor says you can’t exert yourself.”

Jiang Shaocheng’s desire was surging through him, a heat in his core that demanded to be satiated. He cursed, I should have gotten rid of that doctor and the wheelchair long ago.

But he yearned to make love to his little wife, and so he revealed his true identity. In the blink of an eye, the deformed cripple transformed into a powerful businessman–tall, dark, and handsome. He quieted Tang Qiu’s protests, his body positioned over hers, his arms caging her as she lay on the bed. His voice was low when he asked, “What about now?”