From DEMON to TRASH: The rise of Demonic Emperor Zhiyun

——— Chapter 2 ———

- - - ZHIYUN'S POV – – –

I watched with detached amusement as my disciples faltered, their faces contorted in terror. The four celestial kings, who had once exuded confidence, now appeared as nothing more than fragile shadows of their former selves. The barrier they had woven with their combined strength began to fracture, the cracks spreading like spiderwebs across glass, each fracture a harbinger of their impending doom. The realization was dawning on them—they were going down with me.

"Fools," I muttered to myself, a cruel smile creeping across my lips. The satisfaction of knowing I would take them all down in the end was the only thing that kept me tethered to this moment.

But then—pain.

It surged through me in waves, a searing heat that shot through my chest and radiated out in all directions. It felt like my very soul was being scorched, my dao heart burning from the inside out, as though I were being consumed by the inferno of my own making.

"What is this?" I thought, struggling to focus through the agony, my vision blurring, the world around me warping. My heart raced, my body growing heavier with each passing second, the edges of my consciousness beginning to fray.

The pain was unbearable—until it suddenly stopped.

Just as quickly as it had come, the sharp, fiery sensation dulled, replaced by something far more sinister—an empty, all-encompassing numbness. My senses faded slowly, as if I were sinking deeper into an abyss, a void where nothing existed. I could no longer feel the warmth of my own body, nor the coldness of the surrounding destruction. The world became a blur, and with it, I could sense the inevitable pull of the void, beckoning me closer.

I closed my eyes.

The numbness continued to creep, swallowing me whole, until it became the only thing that existed. I was no longer Zhiyun, no longer a demon king, no longer anyone. Just an empty shell, drifting in a sea of nothingness.

'So this is what death feels like…'

The thought floated through my mind, hollow and distant, as if it were someone else's words, not my own.

'Is my life ending without deciphering the book of arcane?'

'i refuse to die like this!'

Deep within me, a stubborn flicker of life refused to fade—a defiant ember burning against the void, clinging to existence with a determination that defied all reason.

"Are you done sleeping?" The voice was distorted and inhuman, reverberating through the emptiness like a whisper from another plane. It jolted me awake, dragging me from the stillness.

I opened my eyes and found myself adrift in an endless expanse of white. There was no sky, no ground—just an infinite void. Yet, I wasn't alone. Sitting before me was it. A figure that wasn't a figure. No features. No substance. Just a shadow in the shape of a man, its presence suffocating and absolute, its gaze piercing through the nothingness to pin me in place.

My eyes drifted on my right feet and noticed I unconciously step back, not even deathbed made me wanna run, I am a demonic emperor! and whatever decision or situation I was in I always move forward!.

Never in my existence had I felt this way. Not in the face of the most fearsome demons, not before the heavens themselves. Yet.. this… this thing unnerved me in a way I couldn't explain. It began to stand and circle me, its movements slow, deliberate, like a predator toying with its prey.

I couldn't move. Couldn't think. The oppressive weight of its presence bore down on me from all sides, suffocating and relentless. For the first time, I felt small. Fragile. Insignificant—a mere speck before an incomprehensible force. The cruel irony of it struck me like a blade: I, the Demon King, who had mocked death and defied the heavens, now stood frozen in fear.

And yet… I wanted it.

The fear. The raw, primal terror this entity instilled in me. I craved it. Not because I was weak, but because it reminded me of something I hadn't felt in millennia—a power greater than mine. A power beyond comprehension.

I wanted it. I wanted its power.

"I like the glint in your eyes, child. It's rare to find someone who dares to crave my power in my very presence," the entity said, its distorted voice curling through the air as if it could pierce into my thoughts.

A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. Meeting its gaze—or what I assumed to be its gaze—I replied, "Dreams are for everyone… even the dead."

The entity let out a laugh, low and resonant, echoing as though the entire void was laughing with it. "Ahaha, interesting. Very interesting."

Its shadow seemed to shift, growing darker and more ominous, as if the void itself bent to its will. "It would be a shame to let someone as intriguing as you simply perish," it mused, a wicked dark smile spreading across its shapeless face.

And then, in the blink of an eye, it vanished.

What just happened? I thought, my instincts flaring to life.

All of a sudden the ground beneath me rippled, melting away into liquid. Before I could react, the solid floor turned into a cold, abyssal water, swallowing me whole.

The icy liquid surged over my head, pulling me deeper into its murky depths. My limbs felt heavy, my movements restricted, as though unseen hands gripped me from every side.

A relentless force dragged me further down into the abyss, the pressure crushing against my chest. My demonic power, once boundless, felt utterly useless in this suffocating void.

So this is how it ends… again, I thought bitterly as the water began to fill my lungs, stealing away my final breath.

- - - NO ONES POV - - -

Yan City

"Search for that boy! He's poisoned, he can't have gone far!" barked a tall, bald man, his booming voice carrying through the outskirts of the city. His sharp, commanding tone left no room for hesitation.

The group of henchmen scattered in response, fanning out into the dense woods surrounding the city. The sound of rustling leaves and snapping twigs filled the air as they combed through the underbrush, determined to track their prey.

Deep within the forest, a young man with jet-black hair and frightened teal-green eyes stumbled through the underbrush. His breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps, and sweat poured down his pale face. Every step felt heavier than the last as his legs threatened to give out beneath him.

"I… I have to make it back to the young masters… I have to," he whispered shakily, his voice trembling as he clutched a tree for support. He fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a crumpled note. His hands trembled so violently that the paper almost slipped from his grasp.

But before he could even read it, a sharp, searing pain exploded in his chest. He gasped, clutching at his heart as his knees buckled, sending him collapsing to the ground. His body shuddered as he fought for air.

The poison… it's spreading faster… His thoughts spun wildly, panic clawing at his mind. He tried to stand, his vision swimming, but his legs felt like lead. He pressed his back against the tree, dragging himself upright.

"Tracks! Over here—he's close!" a shout rang out, far too near for comfort. His blood turned ice-cold as the words echoed in his ears

They're coming… I can't let them catch me… Fear surged through him, momentarily stronger than the poison ravaging his body. He staggered forward, each step a desperate attempt to stay ahead of the men hunting him.

Breaking through the trees, he stumbled into a clearing. His wide eyes immediately locked onto the vast lake stretching out before him. He froze, his breaths ragged and uneven. There was no way forward, and every other path would lead straight back to his pursuers.

"Boss! Over there, by the water! It's the kid!" The shout sent a jolt of pure terror through him, and he whipped around to see dark figures emerging from the treeline.

I don't want to die! I can't die here! His heart pounded violently in his chest, and tears pricked the corners of his eyes as panic consumed him. With no other choice, he bolted toward the lake, splashing into the frigid water.

"Boss! He's in the lake! He's trying to get away!"

"Don't let him escape!" the leader roared, his voice cold and merciless. "Alive or dead—I don't care. Just bring him to me!"

The boy's teeth chattered as he swam further into the icy depths, his body trembling with exhaustion and fear. But he didn't stop—he couldn't. The thought of what awaited him if he were caught was far more terrifying than the freezing water pulling him down.

Multiple attacks rained down upon him, each laced with killing intent. The air seemed to hum with deadly force. A two arrow, shrouded in a fierce Qi aura, tore through the air and struck him squarely in the shoulder blade and his torso. The sheer impact drove him back, and a cry of agony tore from his lips as he staggered, his body wracked with unbearable pain.

Blood sprayed from his pale lips, staining the water below him crimson. He could feel it now—the poison had reached his heart and clawed its way into his mind. His body was failing, and he knew, with chilling certainty, that this was the end.

The once vibrant, crystalline teal of his eyes dimmed, clouding over as his strength ebbed away. His movements faltered, each step slower, weaker, until his body finally gave in.

Slowly, the boy's form sank beneath the cold, dark water, his breath slipping away with the soft ripples. His face, etched with longing and unfulfilled determination, disappeared into the depths.

Someone… anyone… please… protect the young lady and young masters… The thought flickered in his mind, a desperate prayer, before the consuming darkness claimed him completely.

Boss, the boy's gone under. I think he's dead," one of the pursuers reported, his voice tinged with a hint of finality. The others nodded, their gazes fixed on the bloody ripples staining the lake.

"Good. Retrieve the body," the bald man ordered, his dark smirk widening with satisfaction. "Take the token and the letter. Those brats must never get their hands on them."

The men nodded in unison and quickly set to work, hauling a small boat to the water's edge. Two of them rowed out to the spot where the boy had disappeared, the eerie stillness of the lake unsettling despite their ruthless intent.

One of the men dove in, the surface of the lake swallowing him whole. His partner waited in silence, leaning over the edge of the boat, eyes scanning the water.

But the seconds stretched into minutes. Ten passed, and still, there was no sign of the diver.

"Where the hell is he?" the man in the boat muttered, unease creeping into his voice as he peered into the murky depths.

The man's gaze snapped to the blurry shape of his colleague rising from the water. A sense of relief swept over him, easing his previous doubt. He perched on the edge of the boat, clutching the paddle in readiness to leave. As he heard the water ripple, he called out to the figure.

"What took you so long? Boss is about to explode with anger, you know!" he snapped, irritation evident in his voice. "Do you realize how mad he is waiting for us?"

But the figure remained silent. Growing frustrated, he stood and moved closer.

"Hey! Are you even listening, you idiot? Get over here and bring the body, now! Quick—" His words trailed off as his gaze locked on the horrifying sight: his colleague's lifeless body, floating motionless in the water.

Before he could even comprehend what was happening, a chilling hand shot up from the depths, grabbing his head with terrifying strength.

"ARRGH—HELP ME!" he screamed, struggling to free himself, but the grip only tightened as he was dragged beneath the surface.

His frantic thrashing slowed as his breath grew shallow, his lungs filling with water. In his final moments, all he could do was struggle weakly, but his body soon fell limp, slipping into the quiet, suffocating darkness of the lake.

The pursuers on the shore heard the chilling scream, their attention snapping to the now empty boat.

"What was that?!" one of them shouted, eyes wide in confusion.

"I don't know… I can't see those two idiots anymore," another replied, his voice filled with uncertainty.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the water, sending a shock through the group. It wasn't their missing comrades—it was the child they thought was dead.

"B-boss! Is that a… ghost?" one of the men stammered, his back hitting the dirt as he tried to scramble away.

"Idiot! That's no ghost! It's the kid we've been chasing! Get moving!" barked the leader, his command cutting through the fear and rallying the group.

"Let's catch that brat! How dare he scare us!" one of the men yelled, while another shouted, "I'll make you pay for being born!" as they rushed toward the water.

But before they could even step foot in the lake, the boy was already standing among them. His body was drenched, his pale skin making him look like a corpse. But it wasn't his lifeless appearance that terrified them—it was the cold, soulless glint in his teal-green eyes, glowing with a dangerous intensity that seemed to pierce through them like daggers.

The group froze. How could he have reached them so quickly? It should've taken at least eight minutes to swim back to shore.

"Wha—" one of them began, but his words were cut off as he felt his world flip upside down.

Blood sprayed from the severed bodies, showering the shore, as five lifeless corpses crumpled to the ground.

The others, including the boss, were too stunned to react. They didn't realize the boy had already picked up one of the dead man's knives and was slowly stabbing each fallen body one by one, as if carefully picking flowers from a garden.

Three more men collapsed, their bodies spilling blood onto the sand.

"Last one," the boy said in a cold tone, sending a wave of dread through the leader.

"P-please don't kill me… I'll give you money!" the leader croaked, finding his voice at last, but the boy kept walking toward him, his eyes unblinking.

"I have no personal grudge against you!" the leader pleaded desperately. "I was paid by someone to kill you and the kids!"

Step. Step. Step.

"I-I can tell you who it was! I have their messages in my pocket!" he cried out, now frantically searching for any way to escape his fate.

I-I can tell you who it was! I'll take you to them—they left me their token!" the bald man stammered, his voice shaking with desperation as he searched frantically for a way to save himself.

The boy halted a step away from him, staring coldly, his teal green eyes void of mercy.

Taking this as a sign of leniency, the bald man's panic turned to eager pleading. "The person who gave me your whereabouts and paid us to kill you—I can tell you everything! I can give you proof!"

But before another word could leave his mouth, his world spun violently, his final sight a glimpse of the ground rushing toward him. His head fell with a thud, severed cleanly from his body.

"Who do you think you're bargaining with, mortal?" the boy's icy voice cut through the rain that had begun to fall, washing away the blood that stained the earth.

Suddenly, an agonizing pain surged through his entire body. The boy—Zhiyun—fell to his knees, coughing up blood as the storm poured relentlessly around him.

'What is happening?' he thought, disoriented, his vision blurring. His eyes caught his reflection in a puddle, and his breath hitched.

Staring back at him was the face of a boy no older than fifteen, his skin pale as death, his obsidian black hair clinging to his forehead. His teal blue eyes shimmered faintly in the water's reflection, but his appearance was nothing remarkable. He looked weak, ordinary—a boy who could easily be mistaken for a slave.

"Is this… my new body?" Zhiyun muttered in disbelief, piecing together the fragments of what had transpired. He recalled that entity's mocking words about not letting him die just yet.

Another wave of excruciating pain wracked his fragile frame, forcing him to heave for breath. His knees wobbled as he struggled to stay upright.

"This body… it's defective," he hissed, extending his senses inward to examine his new vessel. His expression darkened.

"This body is trash. Its meridians are completely shattered, there's no spiritual root, and to make it worse, it's poisoned!" he growled, gripping his knees for support as he stumbled forward, desperate to find shelter.

'That last attack—it wasn't even at my peak strength. It was nothing more than a fraction of my normal power, yet this body is already breaking down,' he thought bitterly, more blood spilling from his lips.

'This is pathetic!'

The cruel reality began to sink in as his vision dimmed and his limbs grew heavy. A chilling thought crossed his mind:

'Am I really about to die for the third time?'

Zhiyun's grim thoughts were interrupted by a chilling gust of wind, slicing through the rain and sending shivers down his broken body. Through his blurred vision, the vague outline of a figure emerged. The silhouette was hard to discern, but something about it screamed power.

Even with his condition, Zhiyun's instincts flared—a built-in sense from his years as a demonic emperor. His sharp intuition, honed through centuries, told him this was no ordinary being. Despite the limitations of his new, weak vessel, he could sense it clearly. This person was strong. Likely a Nascent Soul cultivator, an extraordinary rarity in these mortal lands.

His heart quickened, but he didn't let his panic show. If this individual was an enemy, his current state left him helpless in a direct fight. He wouldn't stand a chance unless he struck at the perfect moment.

Calming his breathing, Zhiyun concealed the dagger he had used to slaughter his pursuers earlier.

'its a risk but its a necessity, once this person is closer I will quickly apply a short fragment of my soul aura in this dragger and latched it straight to his neck' altho the setbacks are high cause that involves forcing his soul energy out of a crippled body, its a better option than just dying.

He let his body sag, feigning unconsciousness. With his heightened senses—though dulled by his current physical limitations—he focused on the approaching figure. The footsteps were unnervingly light, almost imperceptible, but he could still detect them.

Step.

Step.

Step.

The temperature plummeted with each step, frost seeping into his fingertips. The cold bit at his skin, a sharp contrast to the poison burning through his veins. His body trembled involuntarily, but his mind remained sharp, calculating his next move.

Then, a soft scent hit him—light yet distinctive. Lavender and lilac.

The unexpected aroma made his mind falter, striking a chord of distant familiarity. He could feel himself slipping, his carefully laid plan unraveling as he failed to reconcile the cold presence with this warm, gentle fragrance.

Before he could react, icy fingers grazed his face. His body stiffened. Instinct screamed at him to fight, yet the touch was delicate, not hostile. It lacked the intent to harm.

'No enemy would touch their target's face so gently… would they?' Zhiyun's thoughts raced as his body hesitated.

"This child is still alive. I can save him," a soft, melodious voice broke through the chaos. Feminine. Kind. The sheer gentleness of her tone momentarily shattered his defenses, and his eyelids fluttered open.

His vision was still a blur, but through the haze, he could make out a faint silhouette clad in white. She seemed ethereal, her presence almost glowing against the stormy backdrop.

Before he could process what was happening, another sharp wave of pain wracked his body, forcing him to cough up more blood. His movements grew sluggish, his consciousness slipping.

The figure knelt beside him, her hands steady yet urgent as she held him in place. He heard her muttering incantations under her breath, her words laced with urgency. Zhiyun's world dimmed, but a faint green light began to shine through his foggy vision. The warmth of it seeped into his skin, countering the icy chill that had overtaken him.

'She's… helping me,' he realized, the thought echoing faintly in his mind.

His body relaxed, the tension draining from his limbs as the soothing light enveloped him. For the first time in what felt like ages, Zhiyun allowed himself to succumb to exhaustion, the softness of her touch lingering in his mind as he drifted into unconsciousness.