Chapter 102: Luoyang, the Eastern Capital (End of Volume One: The Great Sage Sorcerer)

Chapter 102: The Eastern Capital Luoyang (Volume One: The Great Sage Sorcerer Concludes)

Liu Hong never dreamed he would become emperor. When Emperor Huan of Han passed away without an heir, Empress Dou and her father Dou Wu orchestrated the enthronement of Marquis Jie Du Pavilion, Liu Hong, to continue the dynasty.

At the beginning of Emperor Ling’s reign, still a child, Empress Dowager Dou held the reins of government. She reinstated officials like Li Ying and Du Mi, who had been suppressed during the first Disasters of the Partisan Prohibitions. However, due to the treachery of the eunuch Cao Jie, Du Mi, Zhang Jian, and others were arrested and executed.

Soon after, a palace coup unfolded. Dou Wu intended to eliminate the eunuchs but was exposed, and the eunuch faction struck first, exterminating Dou Wu and Chen Fan’s clans. From then on, Emperor Ling relied heavily on the eunuchs, whose power reached its zenith. A group of about a dozen eunuchs, led by Zhang Rang and Zhao Zhong, became the emperor’s closest confidants and favorites, known among the people as the “Ten Attendants.”

The “Ten Attendants” referred to twelve eunuchs during Emperor Ling’s reign: Zhang Rang, Zhao Zhong, Xia Yun, Guo Sheng, Sun Zhang, Bi Lan, Li Song, Duan Gui, Gao Wang, Zhang Gong, Han Kui, and Song Dian. Though humble in origin, by consorting with dark spirits and gaining imperial favor, they rose step by step to the pinnacle of power.

Among them, Zhang Rang and Zhao Zhong were especially infamous. Zhang Rang was notorious for extortion and greed, so indulgent that Emperor Ling even called him “father.” Zhao Zhong colluded closely with Zhang Rang, jointly controlling the court. Under their manipulation, corruption flourished, and the people suffered terribly.

Emperor Ling, fond of conducting business within the palace, had long been intent on buying land and building houses. Yet after a while, unable to expand his ventures inside the palace, he lost interest and ordered the creation of a marketplace in the harem. There, rare and exotic treasures confiscated from the common folk were sold.

To make it realistic, palace maids and concubines played the roles of merchants and customers. The marketplace buzzed with tea houses, taverns, cloth shops… there were singers and acrobats—like a miniature society in itself.

Liu Hong would eagerly stroll through it every day—sometimes wandering aimlessly, sometimes drinking and listening to music, or bargaining with shopkeepers. He even drove a donkey cart himself, holding the reins and whipping the animal as he raced through the streets.

Later, when palace maid He gave birth to a prince, she was elevated to the rank of Noble Lady due to the birth’s prestige, winning Emperor Ling’s favor. After giving birth to prince Liu Bian, she was made empress. Her father, He Zhen, was posthumously titled General of Chariots and Cavalry and Marquis of Xuande of Wuyang; her mother was brought into the palace and titled Lady of Wuyang. He’s two brothers, He Jin and He Miao, were recruited into important government positions.

The He family, formerly butchers, prospered greatly thanks to their sister’s influence.

At this time, Emperor Ling Liu Hong was unaware—or perhaps unwilling to acknowledge—the grave internal and external crises facing the Han Empire under his rule.

One afternoon, Emperor Ling strolled enthusiastically through the imperial gardens. Towering ancient trees and fragrant blossoms surrounded him, while various stalls set up by palace staff created a peaceful, harmonious scene of buying and selling.

But shortly after, an eerie mist rose silently from all directions, swiftly engulfing the entire garden.

The fog was thick and tangible, seeming to swallow all light and sound. The palace maids and attendants beside Liu Hong vanished one by one, as if evaporated into thin air. Their shouts and footsteps were swallowed by the mysterious fog, leaving no trace.

“Who’s there? Come quickly to protect the emperor!”

“Anyone there?!”

“Chief of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, where are you?!”

Yet no one answered from the void. Even those adept at exorcising evil, who had long hidden in the shadows, were nowhere to be seen—only a hollow echo remained.

A nameless dread welled up in Liu Hong’s heart. He looked around, seeing only a sea of white mist; familiar sights blurred beyond recognition. He tried to call for his attendants, but his voice was trapped, unable to escape the fog. Alone, he stood amidst the strange mist, feeling the chill and unease closing in.

As time passed, the fog thickened, and his heartbeat quickened. Doubt gnawed at him: was some unspeakable secret concealed within the mist? Amid boundless terror, he seemed to hear a low, sinister sound emanating from its depths—yet he could not discern its nature.

Liu Hong wished to flee this unnerving garden, but the once-familiar grounds had become an indistinct maze. He could find no way out and no sense of direction.

Suppressing his fear, Liu Hong sought to calm himself. “Do not be afraid, do not be afraid.”

Suddenly, he heard distant sounds growing nearer.

At first, strange phenomena appeared in the sky. The once sapphire-blue heavens darkened as ominous clouds gathered swiftly, swirling unnaturally as if stirred by an invisible giant hand.

The clouds were so black they seemed to drip ink, flashing with eerie light—an unsettling crimson rather than the bright white of lightning.

It was as if flames from the depths of hell burned within the clouds. Between them, arcs of electricity leapt, glowing a sickly cyan and crackling ominously.

Each flicker stirred the air into restless agitation, carrying a biting cold that seemed to emanate from the darkest corners of the cosmos, piercing Liu Hong’s robes and chilling him to the bone.

A low buzzing rose—a faint hum at first, growing louder over time, like thousands of bees frenziedly swarming near the ear, making his eardrums ache.

Suddenly, the sky tore open like a colossal maw, and a terrifying figure slowly emerged.

Its massive form filled half the sky, comprised of countless shadows congealed into a chaotic, indistinct shape—like primordial chaos given form.

This dark substance flowed like liquid yet bore the hardness of stone, its surface rippling as if countless creatures writhed within.

Swirling vortices spun endlessly across its body, deep and black, threatening to engulf everything nearby. Their edges glimmered with a cold light, like the faint glow of the coldest stars, freezing the soul at a glance.

Its enormous head was a grotesque mass—an amalgam of nightmares—covered with countless eyes of all sizes arranged at random.

Some eyes were as large as wagon wheels, burning with green flames like ghostly fire, flickering with malevolent intent. Each flicker seemed to reach into Liu Hong’s mind, attempting to drag him into an abyss of terror.

Others were tiny, needle-like, but equally chilling, clustering densely to form intricate, horrifying patterns—ancient, evil scripts spreading dread across the world.

Where their gaze fell, the air seemed to ignite and warp, as if space itself grew fragile under their stare, ready to shatter at any moment.

Its body resembled a towering mountain of darkness, soaring into the clouds, so immense that its full extent could not be seen at once. The sheer oppressive presence was enough to induce despair.

Its skin was an unfathomable black, embodying endless darkness. The more one looked, the more one felt drawn into its bottomless abyss.

Across this pitch-black surface ran countless glowing markings—alive, writhing, twisting like flowing currents or ancient, obscure runes—shifting through complex, mysterious shapes, silently conveying the darkest, most forbidden secrets.

Each flicker spread an aura of fear and hopelessness into the world.

Standing within this cursed black space, the air around Liu Hong seemed to solidify. Every breath felt like inhaling icy despair.

At its center—the nightmare’s source—an unbearable chill crept from his feet through his entire body, raising every hair and pinning him in place as if pierced by thousands of steel needles.

Before it, Liu Hong felt as insignificant as a speck of dust, swallowed by its indescribable terror. Its very existence desecrated all life, embodying the universe’s darkest, oldest secrets.

From it radiated a supreme indifference—an arrogance that regarded all life as mere ants. This haughty oppression nearly overwhelmed him.

Its surface was riddled with countless holes of varying sizes and depths, from which came deep roars and piercing screams—as if countless souls were trapped within, endlessly tormented.

Each sound drilled into his ears, sending shivers down his spine and flooding his heart with primal fear.

Wherever it passed, pavilions and towers crumbled instantly, shattered like fragile blocks, sending clouds of dust and debris into the air.

The once-mighty buildings that symbolized Han’s dominion stood powerless before it—torn apart as easily as paper.

Massive stones crashed down from above, roaring thunderously, composing a dirge of death.

People fled in terror through the ruins, screaming and begging for help, but their voices were faint and helpless in this apocalyptic chaos, soon drowned beneath the clamor.

The wind howled louder, a furious beast attempting to sweep away the walls, the dynasty, and Liu Hong’s very will.

His long hair whipped wildly in the gale; his robes flapped fiercely.

Liu Hong had no strength left to think—the raging north wind seemed to carry away his remaining soul, as if to sweep away the dynasty itself.

Facing this endless storm and the dynasty’s doom, his heart brimmed with anger and resentment—but above all, helplessness. He was powerless to reverse fate, to save the dynasty, or to reclaim lost lives.

The wind continued to roar as if it had swallowed Liu Hong’s soul and hope alike.

His mind became a void—a blank space swept clean by the wind.

His lips moved slightly, as if to cry out or rage, but no words came. He stood quietly, letting the wind carry away his soul and the dynasty together.

Volume One: The Great Sage Sorcerer (End)

Epilogue:

Volume One concludes here. Thank you all for your heartfelt support. A brief glimpse into what lies ahead:

Volume Two: The Era of Great Strife

As the Yellow Turban Army swelled into the millions, Zhang Jiao and Zhang Sanlu realized that the Way of Great Peace could not save the people but only increased the number of refugees. Initially, Zhang Jiao’s forces maintained discipline and fed the refugees. But as regional gentry, bandits, and other factions joined, they often coerced civilians to supply provisions, sometimes resorting to plunder worse than that of ruthless officials.

The court appointed General Huangfu Song to quell the rebellion. To break the Yellow Turban’s momentum, he beheaded over a hundred thousand rebels and refugees, erecting a sacrifice altar in the capital. This drew down the wrath of the Queen Mother of the Western Abyss, leading to a decisive defeat of the Yellow Turbans.

The remaining rebels scattered, triggering a chaotic struggle among warlords vying for control. This strange world grew even sicker. Meanwhile, Zhang Jiao, struck down by the backlash of hastening Heaven’s demise, fell gravely ill and died.

Volume Three: Turmoil in Three Directions

Dong Zhuo sought power from ‘It’ to dominate the world.

Dong Zhuo sought ‘It’ to seize absolute control of the court.

Dong Zhuo sought ‘It’ to reach the pinnacle of power.

Meritorious in suppressing the Yellow Turbans, Dong Zhuo entered He Jin’s view and was secretly summoned by the Grand General He Jin to lead troops into the capital to eliminate the Ten Attendants. Soon, chaos erupted in the capital. Dong Zhuo, having saved the emperor, rose to immense power, recruiting the mighty “Flying General” Lü Bu. He later assassinated the young emperor and Empress Dowager He, seized control of the court, and was appointed Grand Tutor, reaching the height of power.

Zhang Sanlu returned to the imperial capital Luoyang, now in turmoil. What fearsome power could wooden figures or incantations hold? The true terror was the ‘thing’ already awakened.

Volume Four: The Ode to Copper Sparrow Terrace

Cao Cao exhausted all master craftsmen to build a towering, magnificent platform called Copper Sparrow Terrace. Facing the rivers Luo and He, with the three towering pavilions of Ye at its back, what was truly enshrined there? What had Cao Cao sought from ‘It’?

To be continued...