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    Translator:  Ashish

    Translation Checker: Silvain

     

    The Shadow Realm was shrouded in mystery. It was a place which no man could find.

     

    However, this did not mean Slytherin was without means.

     

    So long as this Shadowkin harbored fear in his heart, Slytherin could tether his will to that fear… and through it, find the location of the elusive Shadow Realm.

     

    And now that the brand of fear had been etched, all that remained was to wait, to wait for this Shadow Clansman to make his choice.

     

    At this point, it should be brought to notice that the current Slytherin was the manifestation of fear.

     

    Born from fear, sustained by fear, and destined to vanish should the fear itself cease to exist. As long as fear lingered in the hearts of Mortals, this creature could never be truly destroyed. The most one could do was seal him away.

     

    This was his Eternal Legacy, an unspeakably terrifying and almost indestructible legacy.

     

    When he became a Hegemon, he would become more than just an entity of horror. He would be Fear Incarnate. At that point, his Hierarchy of Life would be elevated, pushing him on par with Principles.

     

    And this was what set him apart from other Hegemons.

     

    Compared to ordinary Hegemons, he was far more terrifying and bizarre.

     

    However, even the current him was already a force to be feared.

     

    And when it came to weirdness, it was even more nerve-wrecking.

     

     

    Time slowly slipped by.

     

    The Shadowkin, whose seals had been lifted, slowly seemed to regain his composure. He had stopped trembling, and his breathing was steady.

     

    However, his eyes, they still betrayed his internal turmoil.

     

    A flicker of panic lingered in their depths.

     

    He had never seen anything so horrific. Never felt so utterly helpless.

     

    Even now, if he dared shut his eyes, eight pairs of blood-hued eyes would rise in his mind, staring dead straight at him.

     

    His body would grow ice-cold, and his back drenched with sweat.

     

    “But why…?” He muttered, his voice thin. “Why did you release me? Are you hoping that I’d lead you… to the Shadow Realm?”

     

    As the question hung in the air, his mind sharpened with a grim understanding.

     

    He was certain. Somewhere, the Demon Court’s agents were monitoring his every move, waiting for him to run.

     

    [Unfortunately for you, my homeworld, the Shadow Realm is not something that could be found so easily.] Chuckling to himself, the Shadowkin cared little about being monitored. He slowly rose and limped toward a nearby patch of shadow.

     

    The moment he stepped in, ripples bloomed outward as the patch of shadow began to whirl. Slowly, his body sank into it.

     

    All shadows were gateways, but only for the Shadow Clan.

     

    To all others, they were locked doors without keys.

     

    And thus, even if they knew about it, the Shadowkin was unafraid.

     

    However, far away, unseen by him, an extremely terrifying monster watched the spectacle unfold, a cruel smile tugging the corner of his jaws.

     

    “Too naive, little one…” Murmuring, Slytherin’s cold and sinistrous eyes slowly closed, as if slumbering.

     

     

    That very day, the Shadow Clansman returned to the Shadow Realm.

     

    His name was Narak, a prodigy of the famed Nar Family in the Shadow Clan. One of the youngest in history to reach Tier-4. He was a true genius.

     

    Now, when he returned to the Shadow Realm, to his Clan’s territory, aside from the occasional inspection by other Clansmen, ensuring no tracking spells lingered, life seemed to resume its normal pace.

     

    However, there was still something wrong.

     

    If one looked closely at Narak, they would notice it. His complexion had grown pale, haggard. His aura had begun to wane, like a candle burning too fast.

     

    “Why? Why do I dream that every night? Why… can’t I stop seeing that monster?” He roared to himself, an inexplicable panic coursing through him.

     

    He could feel it. There was something formless coiling around him, binding him.

     

    An invisible terror pressing in from all directions.

     

    And as the days passed, that pressure only grew stronger, sharper, closer.

     

    Until one night, a whisper echoed in his ears, soft and inescapable, “Because… you fear me.”

     

    And in that moment, Narak’s body trembled uncontrollably, even his expression changed drastically.

     

    Panic overtook him, because that was the voice. The voice of that monstrous entity.

     

    [Impossible! No… this is impossible!] And yet, in that moment of disbelief, Narak’s gaze wandered just for an instant toward a pool of shadows, and he gasped in shock and fear.

     

    Reflected in the mirrored surface of the pool of shadows was his own silhouette.

     

    However, something about that reflection was wrong, so very wrong.

     

    The eyes, his eyes were glowed faintly red.

     

    And around his figure, wisps of black mist began to writhe and twist, coiling around each other, slithering like living things.

     

    And then, from that miasma of shadows, something took form, coiled upon his shoulder. It was a monstrous being, no more than a meter tall, with eight heads, and eight tails.

     

    “So this is the Shadow Realm…so very mysterious,” came a voice smirking, cold, full of cruel amusement, as Slytherin looked toward the pitch-black sky.

     

    Narak froze.

     

    His throat tightened, blood draining from his face.

     

    “No… How? How are you here!?” Disbelief turned to horror, and he stumbled backward, legs trembling, heart racing.

     

    But Slytherin only smiled.

     

    “Wasn’t it you… who brought me here?”  He sounded genuinely puzzled but there was mockery in his voice. Thick and deliberate.

     

    And then Slytherin’s eyes turned fully upon him, and said, “Alright, no more wasting time. Just stepping into this realm already cost me half a month. Any more delays, and my Master might grow displeased…”

     

    Talking to himself, Slytherin turned his gaze downward. He locked eyes with the boy who had collapsed onto the ground, body trembling beyond control.

     

    “Now then, little one… Spread fear in my name. Let all of the Shadow Realm tremble at the mention of it. Let them know what true fear is. Only then… can my True Body descend in full.”

     

    With each sentence, Narak’s eyes become more and more bloodshot. Faintly, deep within them, something stirred, something monstrous. A eight-headed, eight-tailed monster, howling toward Heaven.

     

     

    And while Slytherin plotted his descent into the heart of the Shadow Realm, far away in the Nine Realms, Yu Zi Yu had not been idle.

     

    And if one were to glance at the spot before him, they would see a figure standing silently in place.

     

    A young Human.

     

    Long, black hair cascaded down his back, and his eyes were cold and sharp. And behind him, hazy shadows seemed to be stirring in a bizarre and uncanny manner.

     

    This was Leng Feng, one of the earliest Human Prodigies to follow Yu Zi Yu, who was born with the strongest Innate Talent, a Darkness Elemental Talent.

     

    Innate Talent: Dark Shadow(Tier-5) — A shadow resides within him, capable of solidifying at will. He can freely bend, twist, and morph it to his will, allowing him to vanish into darkness and strike from the unseen. It’s a terrifying combat talent.

     

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