Lin Zhengxin left Qing Teng Academy in a disheveled state. Just then, a thought slipped into his mind like a ghost. The
Earl of Carlton… the new Earl of Carlton… the things he brought… The assassination of the Earl of Carlton in the square shocked the entire aristocratic circle. The new Earl of Carlton, his son, after handling the funeral arrangements and officially taking over the territory, sent someone with "something among the old Earl's belongings that might be related to the Lin family." It was said… it was said that the box was found at the scene of the old Earl of Carlton's assassination… At the time, Lin Zhengxin was lost in thought, still placing the inconspicuous black wooden box in the corner of his study, ignoring it. Now, in the carriage, Lin Zhengxin's heart skipped a beat, a strange light flashing in his empty eyes. "Go back, go back immediately," he finally straightened his back and commanded. "Yes, sir." Seeing his master, the coachman finally perked up and secretly breathed a sigh of relief, driving the carriage back at a leisurely pace. It wasn't too far from Qing Teng Academy. Upon arriving at the Lin family residence, Lin Zhengxin staggered alight from the carriage and headed towards the inner room. The study was dimly lit. Relying on his memory, he found a black wooden box in a corner of the desk piled high with documents and books. The box wasn't large, made of ordinary material, and its surface was devoid of any patterns or markings, giving it an antique and mysterious appearance. Lin Zhengxin's fingers trembled as they hovered over the lid. He knew this thing was no ordinary object. The assassination of Old Earl Carlton, the presence of traces of an evil spirit at the scene, which resulted in many deaths—he naturally knew what it implied. "Dangerous…" he murmured repeatedly, his eyes filled with complex emotions. Reconciling with Su Yu meant that Weiwei's revenge would never be achieved; he would carry this humiliation and pain for the rest of his life. And who knew what would be released if this box were opened? Reason told him he should destroy the box immediately or hand it over to the royal family, staying away from the unknown danger. For the sake of his family, he couldn't take any more risks. But… he remembered the way Vivi died, her shriveled body, her pained and disbelieving eyes, Su Yu's cold face, the helpless yet resolute "reconciliation" at the family meeting, and finally, the deep-seated powerlessness he felt at that moment…
An indescribable madness began to fester within him.
"Weiwei… my Weiwei…" his voice was low and hoarse.
"Click."
A soft sound rang out as the wooden box's clasp opened.
The instant the lid opened, a gray mist carrying a strange, sweet, and slightly fishy odor billowed from the box. The mist was icy cold, and upon contact with the skin, it felt as if countless tiny tentacles were gently scratching.
Immediately afterward, a faint whisper, as if from the depths of a distant dream, echoed within the mist.
The voice was neither male nor female, neither high nor low, like countless people murmuring simultaneously, yet also like a single voice speaking in his ear.
The content was indistinct, yet it seemed to penetrate directly into his heart, stirring up deep-seated, dark desires and fears.
Lin Zhengxin held his breath, staring warily at the box.
Inside was only a deformed identity tag, seemingly belonging to a sergeant. Besides that, there were no notes, no letters, nothing that could identify him or indicate his purpose.
"Heh heh, cautious Earl Carlton,"
only the ever-flowing mist and the eerie, dreamlike whispers emanated from the identity plaque.
"This... is this what appeared at the scene of old Earl Carlton's assassination?" Lin Zhengxin murmured, his heart pounding.
He could clearly sense an extremely evil, extremely chaotic aura contained within the mist—the aura of an evil god!
His reason screamed, urging him to immediately close the box and flee.
This thing was too dangerous; a slight misstep could lead to utter destruction!
However, just as his hand was about to touch the lid, he abruptly stopped.
The aura of an evil god...
Lin Zhengxin's eyes instantly hardened. He abruptly closed the box, re-sealing the eerie mist and whispers within.
Then, he took a deep breath, strode out of the study, his voice regaining some of its usual authority, and ordered the servant outside the door, "Go, immediately summon the Second Master; I have important matters to discuss with him."
The servant dared not delay and hurried away.
Lin Zhengxin stood there, hands behind his back, gazing out the window.
Not long after, Lin Zhenghong arrived in a hurry.
His face still bore the weariness of the meeting and worry for his brother.
"Brother, you called for me?"
Lin Zhengxin turned around, his face expressionless, devoid of both his previous dejection and the excitement of the meeting, leaving only an almost numb calm.
"Zhenghong, sit down."
Lin Zhenghong sat down as instructed, but his heart was filled with even greater unease.
"Brother, are you... alright? Don't take the meeting too seriously, we were just..."
"I'm fine." Lin Zhengxin interrupted him, his tone as indifferent as if he were discussing something unrelated to himself: "I accept the meeting's decision. For the sake of the Lin family, this is the right thing to do."
Lin Zhenghong was somewhat surprised, not expecting his brother to have come to his senses so quickly.
He breathed a sigh of relief and was about to offer some words of comfort when Lin Zhengxin dropped a bombshell.
"Zhenghong, I'm going to pass the position of family head to you."
"What?!" Lin Zhenghong jumped up from his chair, his face filled with shock and disbelief. "Big brother! You... what did you say? How can this be! You're still healthy, and... how could you do this at a time like this..."
He simply couldn't understand.
The death of his daughter was certainly heartbreaking, but it didn't
warrant giving up the position of family head!
This was the core of power in the Lin family, passed down for centuries, a position many people dreamed of.
Although his elder brother had lost his daughter in middle age and was deeply affected, he shouldn't be so despondent, or even give up on himself.
Lin Zhengxin waved his hand, gesturing for him to sit down, his tone still calm: "My mind is made up. Zhenghong, you are my own brother. Over the years, you have devoted yourself to the Lin family, and your abilities are evident to all. The position of family head will inevitably be passed to you sooner or later; it doesn't matter much whether it's sooner or later."
"Even if Weiwei were alive, I wouldn't pass the position to her. This position is yours."
"As the eldest brother and family head, I only wanted to pave a smoother path for Weiwei's path to becoming a mage."
"Now that Weiwei is gone, what's the point of me being the family head?"
"But eldest brother..." Lin Zhenghong wanted to speak.
"No buts." Lin Zhengxin's tone was resolute. "Weiwei is gone, and my... heart is dead. I no longer have the strength to sit in this position of family head. Rather than being a mere figurehead, it's better to let you, with your more energy and ability, lead the Lin family forward."
He paused, his gaze falling on Lin Zhenghong's face, seemingly filled with expectation. "From now on, put more effort into nurturing your son. The future of the Lin family depends on your generation."
Lin Zhenghong looked at his brother's seemingly lifeless eyes, his heart filled with mixed emotions.
There was shock, there was sympathy, but undeniably, deep down, there was also an uncontrollable sense of joy and excitement.
The position of family head!
This was the goal he had strived for for most of his life!
Although it had come in this way, he couldn't refuse.
"Brother, are you really... sure?" Lin Zhenghong asked again, his voice trembling slightly.
"Hmm." Lin Zhengxin nodded, closed his eyes, and seemed to age ten years in an instant. "I'll have the family arrange the handover ceremony. Go back and prepare."
"...Yes, elder brother." Lin Zhenghong gave his elder brother a deep look, finally suppressing the complex emotions in his heart, respectfully bowed, and turned to leave.
As he reached the door, he couldn't help but look back, seeing Lin Zhengxin still sitting there with his eyes closed, motionless, like a statue.
After Lin Zhenghong left, the council hall returned to silence.
But this time, the calm on Lin Zhengxin's face quickly faded, replaced by a ferocious and cold expression.
He suddenly opened his eyes, strode back to his study, and locked the door.
He took out the black wooden box from his pocket and placed it on the desk.
At this moment, this ordinary wooden box seemed to have transformed into a magic box containing the power of revenge in his eyes.
"Heh heh...heh heh heh..." He chuckled softly, the laughter growing louder and louder, echoing in the silent study, sounding particularly sinister and terrifying.
"Su Yu...Lin Pengpeng...and those who decided to sacrifice Weiwei...you wait...wait for me..."
His laughter abruptly stopped, and he stretched out his trembling right hand, slowly but firmly, and opened the black wooden box again.
He looked at the mist swirling around the twisted nameplate in the center of the box.
Lin Zhengxin took a deep breath, reached out, and pressed down heavily! "
Buzz—"
It was as if the entire space trembled.
This time, it wasn't a slowly overflowing mist.
As if suppressed for too long, a thicker, more viscous gray mist suddenly burst out of the box, instantly filling the entire study!
The sweet, fishy smell became even more pungent, nauseating.
The dreamlike whispers suddenly became clear, no longer indistinct murmurs, but countless fragmented, sharp, alluring, and malicious sounds that exploded directly in his mind!
Lin Zhengxin's body trembled violently, from fear, from excitement, from the awakening of evil power!
He could feel this power permeating his body, his soul.
Tap...tap...tap...
The footsteps were so close they seemed to be right next to his ear, and illusions began to appear before his eyes: endless mist, figures appearing and disappearing.
And a huge, indistinct yet majestic silhouette.
He knew this was the whisper of an evil god, a forbidden summons.
But he didn't care!
To avenge Weiwei, he was willing to give anything, even his own soul!
"I...accept..." Lin Zhengxin opened his mouth, his voice distorted, no longer entirely his own: "I am willing...to pay any price...as long as...I can take my revenge!"
The mist responded, flowing, changing, pulling.
This was not an illusion.
Lin Zhengxin, as a baron, had received orthodox training in occultism and was no stranger to various mental attacks and spatial distortions.
But this time was different. He could clearly sense that this mist was "real," like an invisible giant net dragging the entire study into a certain area.
Figures began to emerge from the mist.
At first, they were just blurry outlines, gradually becoming clearer as the mist churned.
Some wore faded and rotten ancient clothing, their skin withered like leather, their eye sockets empty—clearly mummies who had long since lost their lives.
Others seemed to be composed of the mist itself, appearing translucent, with eerie blue will-o'-the-wisps flickering in their empty eye sockets—wandering ghosts.
They wandered aimlessly, their steps slow and heavy, uttering unintelligible whispers or low sobs.
Lin Zhengxin sensed a deathly stillness in these beings; however, the mist was not devoid of stillness.
Occasionally, distinctly different figures would flash among the ghosts and mummies.
They walked through the mist with firm steps, their eyes fanatical and bright.
Their clothing varied, their faces obscured by the mist
, but without exception, they all exuded an aura of "life."
More importantly, Lin Zhengxin could clearly perceive a hidden connection between them, as if an invisible thread linked them together, and this mist was the materialized manifestation of that thread.
"Cultists of an evil god…" Lin Zhengxin murmured to himself.
He understood instantly.
These people were members of secret cults scattered throughout the land, their souls wandering in the mist.
Just then, his gaze was drawn to a figure deep within the mist.
It was an extremely peculiar being.
Unlike the cultists or the undead, he seemed to be at the center of this mist.
Thick fog swirled around him like a magnificent robe, drawing wandering ghosts and mummies to his side. He wore a long black robe, but even from afar, Lin Zhengxin felt an indescribable pressure bearing down on him.
This person… was different.
Lin Zhengxin's heart began to race.
He had a strong premonition that this person was the core, the leader of the believers, and perhaps even… the direct embodiment of the evil god's will.
As if sensing his gaze, the figure in the fog slowly turned its head.
Even through the layers of mist, Lin Zhengxin felt as if his soul had been pierced by those eyes hidden beneath the hood, instantly devouring all his courage and will to resist.
With a thud, Lin Zhengxin's knees buckled uncontrollably, and he knelt heavily on the cold floor.
A metallic taste rose in his throat, his mind went blank, and only one thought echoed wildly: "Rank… here, only rank matters…"
In the secular world, he was a noble baron, possessing territory and power.
But here, before this being surrounded by mist and the undead, he was nothing.
The gaze lingered on him for a moment, as if scrutinizing an insignificant ant.
After an unknown amount of time, the suffocating gaze shifted away.
Lin Zhengxin collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, his shirt soaked with cold sweat.
Suddenly, a pang of regret arose within him.
No matter how strong his resolve for revenge, truly accepting the power of the evil god made him tremble all over.