Reborn in the Abyss: The Warrior's Vengeance

Darkness.

Endless. Suffocating. Alive.

Murong Chen floated in it, his battered body suspended in an ocean of cold shadows. Time lost all meaning. Seconds blurred into hours, hours into eternities. He didn't know how long he drifted—days, weeks, or just fleeting moments. Pain had long faded, leaving behind a hollow numbness. Only one thing remained constant—rage.

The betrayal clung to his soul like chains forged in fire.

Zhao Ren's blade piercing his chest.

Lin Yue's cold eyes.

Jiang Wei's smug grin.

The memories returned in fragments, stabbing into his mind like shards of broken glass. He had given everything—his blood, his honor, his loyalty—for the empire, for his people. And they had cast him aside like filth, labeling him a traitor, a threat.

"Is this death?" Chen wondered.

No.

Death would have been merciful.

Suddenly, the void trembled. A crimson light flickered beneath him. Then came the voices.

Whispers, ancient and guttural, seeping into his bones.

"Another fallen. Another betrayed."

"Will you fade... or rise?"

A force tugged at his soul, wrenching him downward. He gasped as his body plummeted, the darkness giving way to an expanse of obsidian stone lit by rivers of molten fire. The ground rose up, and he slammed into it with bone-jarring force.

Agony.

He tasted blood.

Groaning, he struggled to his knees. His surroundings were alien—a hellish wasteland of jagged rocks and twisted ruins. Above him, the sky was a swirling maelstrom of red and black, thunder rumbling in its depths. The air was thick with ash, stinging his throat.

He had fallen into the Abyss.

Legends spoke of this place—a realm between life and death, where the forsaken were cast to suffer eternally. A prison for the betrayed.

"Why…" His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. "Why am I here?"

No answer came.

Only silence.

Chen tried to stand but collapsed. His limbs refused to obey, his strength drained. His once-golden armor was in tatters, reduced to scorched rags. Stormbreaker was gone.

As he clenched his fists, a shadow stirred before him.

A massive figure emerged—a beast, wrought from molten stone and flame. Horned, hulking, with eyes like burning coals. Its breath came in gusts of smoke, and when it spoke, the ground quaked beneath his feet.

"You seek vengeance. Then fight."

The creature lunged.

A fist the size of a boulder crashed toward him. Instinct took over. Chen rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the blow, but the shockwave sent him sprawling. Dust and heat scorched his skin.

He gasped, coughing, heart pounding.

"No weapon... no strength..." he muttered. "I can't..."

The beast's foot came down, aiming to crush him. He rolled again, wincing as pain lanced through his ribs. Every breath burned. His vision blurred, but his resolve remained.

He couldn't die. Not yet.

Clenching his teeth, he stood. His body screamed in protest, but he stood.

"I will not break."

The beast snarled, charging again. Chen ducked, grabbing a jagged shard of obsidian from the ground. As the creature swung, he drove the shard into its arm. A gout of molten blood erupted, sizzling against the ground.

The monster roared, fury unchained. Its massive hand lashed out, catching Chen across the chest, sending him flying into a stone pillar. The impact shattered bone. He fell, coughing blood.

Darkness threatened to take him again.

But he remembered their faces.

Zhao Ren, spitting lies.

Lin Yue, turning away.

Jiang Wei, laughing.

No. He wouldn't die here. Not in this pit. Not forgotten.

A spark ignited in his chest—a heat, foreign yet familiar. The ground beneath him pulsed, runes glowing red. Power surged into him, searing his veins, awakening something ancient.

A voice echoed in his mind—not a whisper this time, but a command.

"RISE."

Light erupted from his body, shattering the darkness. His wounds sealed, pain vanishing in a storm of power. His eyes snapped open, now glowing crimson. The shard in his hand transformed, lengthening, warping—becoming Stormbreaker once more, now forged anew in black steel and flame.

The beast recoiled, sensing the shift.

Chen stood tall, energy crackling around him.

"I have suffered," he said, his voice like thunder. "I have bled. I have fallen. But I am not broken."

With a roar, he charged.

Stormbreaker cleaved through the beast's arm, severing it in a spray of molten fire. The creature bellowed, staggering back. Chen moved like a phantom, cutting, slashing, striking with precision born of pain.

The fight was no longer one-sided.

As he drove the blade through the beast's chest, its body erupted in flame. The ground trembled. From the ashes, a pillar of light rose, bathing Chen in warmth.

The whispers returned, now reverent.

"You are worthy."

Chains of energy wrapped around him—not to bind, but to empower. Symbols etched themselves onto his skin, glowing with power.

He was no longer just Murong Chen, the betrayed general.

He was the Abyss's chosen.

A gateway opened before him, revealing the world above—the empire thriving in its lies, his enemies living in stolen peace.

His eyes narrowed.

"I am coming."

And the heavens would tremble.