THE FOLLOWING STORY IS MADE BY THE AUTHOR JUSTAHOBBY (MAR
WAN)
The last thing Liang Zhen felt was the cold kiss of steel—Zhao Tian ren's blade piercing his heart. Darkness swallowed him. But fate, it seemed, was not done with him yet.
Three years earlier...
The night burned red.
Embers danced in the air, carried by the howling winds, their glow flickering against the pools of blood that stained the battlefield. The once-pristine courtyard of the emperor's garden had been reduced to ruin—bodies strewn across the ground, their lifeless eyes reflecting the infernal glow of the burning palace beyond. The scent of charred wood and flesh mixed with the thick stench of blood, filling the air with the sickening perfume of war.
At the heart of it all stood a lone figure.
Liang Zhen's body was drenched in sweat and blood—his own, and that of the countless enemies who had fallen before him. His breath came ragged, his vision blurred by exhaustion and pain. His once-proud armor was cracked, the fabric beneath torn and soaked in crimson. His grip on his spear trembled, yet he remained standing, unbroken despite the agony that wracked his body.
Surrounding him were the remnants of those who had dared to strike him down—assassins, warriors, disciples of the martial alliance. They had come in droves, believing their sheer numbers would be enough. But numbers had never been enough against Liang Zhen.
And yet, in the end…
It was not the nameless warriors who had brought him to his knees.
A shadow loomed before him, stepping through the haze of burning ruins with slow, deliberate steps.
Zhao Tian ren.
The sword saint stood untouched, his robes pristine, his sword glistening with a cruel sheen. He gazed down at Liang with the same detached calm he had always worn—the same expression of quiet authority, now stained with betrayal.
Liang tried to lift his spear, but his body refused. The weight of battle, of wounds too deep to mend, held him still.
Zhao sighed. "You fought well, Liang." His voice was steady, without mockery, without sympathy. "But this is the end."
Liang's spear trembled in his grip. Zhao leaned closer, his breath a whisper against the roar of the flames.
"Your father's last words were amusing. He swore you'd kill me. But look at you—broken, alone. The mighty Heavenly Spear, reduced to a dying dog."
Liang's vision swayed. His blood dripped onto the stone, his strength abandoning him. The spear in his hands—the very weapon that had carved his legend—felt like dead weight.
The burning heavens above seemed to close in on him, flames roaring like the voices of the dead. His father. His siblings. His clan.
A deep, searing pain tore through him as Zhao's blade found its mark.
Darkness closed in.
And then—silence.
Somewhere in the void, the dragon tattoo on his arm pulsed once, as if answering a call no living soul could hear.
(梁震), The Heavenly Spear's Wraith
Chapter 1-3
The Fall of the Heavenly Spear
Liang Zhen was once hailed as the pride of the martial world, revered for his unmatched spear skills and unshakable discipline.
He was of the Zhen clan. A clan so noble it was almost compared to royalty. Liang zhen was the eldest son of the clan, the one who was destined to become the head of it. Liang was a general of the most renowned warriors chosen by the emperor himself. He was the strongest after his master Zhao Tian ren. Along him were two other generals greedy for power and wealth.
The night before the march to intercept the Eliana Kingdom, Liang Zhen stood atop the fortress walls, his spear gleaming under the moonlight. A whisper of unease prickled his neck—something in the wind felt wrong. Behind him, Zhao Tian ren observed in silence, his fingers tracing the hilt of his sword.
"Master," Liang said without turning. "Do you ever wonder if loyalty is a weakness?"
Zhao's reply was smooth as silk. "Only fools mistake loyalty for blind trust. A true warrior knows when to strike—and when to let others bleed for him."
Liang frowned. The words coiled in his chest like a serpent, but he dismissed them. Tomorrow, he would ride to war.
After getting a royal decree from the emperor to intercept the soldiers of the Eliana Kingdom who were trying to overthrow the Jiang-Shen Empire, Liang Zhen along with his most loyal disciples and warriors began to prepare. He was never the one to trust easily, but to his comrades he was as loyal as a princess' Knight.
Along with his comrades Liang Zhen rode their horses and set off to intercept the Elliana soldiers who were waging war, while the two generals Zhen Luo and Zhen Cheon stayed behind. After all, the royal decree stated there should be only one general to lead while the others to protect the fortress alongside the strongest in the empire, Zhao Tian ren. He was a sword saint, a master of all weaponry and the master of Liang.
As Liang's army rode toward the Eliana Kingdom, a crow circled overhead. Its shadow flickered across his path—an omen he ignored. Behind him, the fortress gates sealed shut with a finality that echoed in his bones.
As Zhao Tianren and the two generals look from atop of the fortress at Liang Zhen leading the calvary away, an evil smile creeps up on Zhao's face as he says, "Finally my plan.. my grand plan is in action." loudly to the two generals. The two generals reply in unison, "it is all due to your great wisdom, Great Saint Zhao."
"Rest assured you both will get a high position after this is over." he replies. Yes, they were going to overthrow the Zhen clan as it proved to be too strong that even the emperor couldn't grasp full control of them.
The emperor was in cahoots with the strongest saint in the dynasty.
Liang Zhen reigned victorious upon the invading forces. Of course he could easily defeat thousands on his own just using his spear, yet this war felt too easy. They set up a camp fire to sleep and returned tomorrow morning. While the sword saint and the two general siblings burn the Zhen clan alive. They finish burning and killing all of the clan members along with Liang's father- Zhen Ornn. He was an old man who couldn't protect the clan. The sword saint had cut his right arm off and pierced his sword in the abdomen the cut was deep enough ensuring no survival. The old man laughs as he coughs blood,"guha... guhahaha... y-you think Liang will let this go? HOW FOOLISH SOMEONE SO HIGH IN POSITION LIKE YOU COULD BE." He coughs more blood as he spends his energy warning the sword saint. "Y-you won't escape my son's wrath." He says as he takes his final breath. The whole Liang clan that used to be the most peaceful clan was now in ruins and fire. "It is done now Liang is next, prepare yourselves to go to the yard of the emperor's garden." Zhao Tian ren says. "He always returns to that place first we will execute him there before he even gets to know the truth of his clan." He follows up to the two generals. The generals bow and begin moving...How wrong they were!
Comes the next day at night time Liang and his army had just returned. He excused his army and went to the yard of his own clan instead of the emperor's yard where he usually goes to.
He had wanted to apologise to his sister for teasing her a lot.....
The night was thick with the acrid scent of smoke, the once-pristine sky now veiled by columns of rising fire. The heavens did not weep for the fallen—no rain came to smother the inferno consuming his home. The moon hung high, its pale glow barely piercing through the thick haze, casting the scene in a ghostly half-light.
Liang Zhen stood at the heart of the devastation, his spear gripped tightly in his hand. Flames roared around him, their violent dance reflecting in his cold, unreadable gaze. The grand courtyard, where his kin once gathered for training and celebration, was nothing more than a scorched ruin. Charred bodies lay strewn across the stone paths, their once-proud forms reduced to blackened husks. The scent of burning wood and flesh filled the air, mixing into something vile, something unforgettable.
The red banners that once bore his clan's emblem hung in tatters, curling at the edges as fire hungrily devoured them. The ornate wooden halls, where he had once sought wisdom from the elders, had collapsed into smoldering wreckage, their intricately carved pillars now reduced to glowing embers. The koi pond, once a tranquil sanctuary, had turned into a boiling pit, its serene waters now bubbling with heat and stained dark with the blood of the fallen.
But the worst was the silence. A silence that swallowed everything, more suffocating than the smoke that burned his throat. No voices called his name, no disciples rushed forward to greet him, no elders stood to welcome their triumphant general. The only sound was the crackling of flames and the occasional collapse of a weakened beam, sending sparks flying into the air like dying fireflies.
He then found the bodies of his family crucified instead of a banner with the naked body of his sister slaughtered in half
Both halves crucified separately. He cried he cried hard in anger and rage
His sister... was raped
Liang zhen gets on his knees stuttering "l-little Chen Chen I-I am so sorry this failure of a brother failed to protect you" He cries.
The stench of burnt hair and iron-thick blood clung to her remains. His fingers brushed a half-melted hairpin—the one he'd gifted her last New Year. It seared his skin, but he clutched it tighter.
For a heartbeat, the flames around him vanished. Instead, he saw her—Chen Chen, twelve years old, grinning as she shoved him into the koi pond for teasing her. "Stupid Liang!" she'd laughed, her sleeves dripping. "I'll tell Father you skipped training again!"
Then the vision burned away. The pond before him now boiled with blood.
Liang Zhen did not move crying on his knees. The sight of his family was too much to bear even for someone like him. The moment the alliance grew uneasy with his strength, he knew betrayal would follow. The martial world was built on power, and power bred fear. The same people who once lauded him as the empire's greatest warrior had feared what he could become.
His grip on his spear tightened, his knuckles turning white. His home—his people—were gone. The weight of the moment pressed against him, his heart throbbing aching with rage. He had saw the place that he had called home become nothing but Ashes. Then-
.
From the shadows, figures began to emerge—his closest comrades, the elders of the martial alliance. At their head was Zhao Tian ren, Liang's mentor and father figure, his face a mask of calm authority.
Liang's voice was sharp as a blade, cutting through the still air. "..So it was you master? "He says looking at them with burning eyes.
His eyes pure red threatening his bloodlust going off
It was clear he was not going to show mercy to anyone anymore
Zhao stepped forward, his hands clasped behind his back. "Liang Zhen, you've grown too powerful, too influential. The martial world is fragile, and your strength threatens the balance we've worked so hard to maintain."
A bitter frown played across Liang's lips. "Balance? You think i believe this bullshit? I am going to murder every single one of you tonight."
Zhao's expression hardened, but he kept his composure. "You leave us no choice. Surrender now, and we will grant you a swift and honorable death."
Liang's cold rage-filled voice echoed through the courtyard, laced with disdain.
"Honorable death? Spare me your sanctimonious lies, Zhao. The only thing you care about is power—and anyone who threatens it. Do you really think I didn't see this coming? But to think... you'd turn my clan into this." he says with a sorrowful rage filled tone.
"You will all fucking ... PAY FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE!!" He screams at the top of his lunges
Zhao sighed, shaking his head. "You were like a son to me, Liang. But your ambition blinded you. The alliance must come first. Always."
Liang meets Zhao with a chilling glare. "Don't talk to me about loyalty. You call yourselves protectors of the martial world, yet you plot and betray like cowards. If I am ambitious, then it is because I refuse to kneel before hypocrites like you."
Zhao's eyes narrowed. "Enough of this. You are no longer part of the alliance. You are a threat to its survival, and I will do what must be done."
Liang's voice dropped, a deadly monstrous rage overtaking him. "Then come and try, Zhao. Let's see if the alliance you cherish so much is worth dying for."
the warriors charged.
One of them said in a creepy manner. "Your sister was so tasty"
Liang grabs his neck his grip hardening then severing his body in two halves
Then impaling both parts with arrows
The warriors watched in horror as they charged then-
Liang moved like lightning, his spear a blur of silver as it cut through the first wave of attackers. He showed no mercy, his strikes precise and deadly.
The bodies of his former comrades fell around him, their blood staining the stones of the garden.
"You dare raise your blades against me?" Liang spat, his voice filled with contempt and rage as he skewered a disciple through the chest.
"You owe your lives to me, yet this is how you repay me? Pathetic."
Another assassin lunged at him, but Liang sidestepped with ease, his spear slicing cleanly through the man's neck. "If this is the best the alliance has to offer, then it's no wonder they fear me."
The disciples hesitated, their fear palpable, but Zhao's cold voice cut through the chaos. "Do not falter! He is only one man. Overwhelm him!"
Liang says loudly in a cold piercing tone, his voice carrying across the courtyard. "One man is all it takes to bring down your house of lies, Zhao. Send as many as you like—it won't change the outcome."
Wave after wave of warriors descended upon him, their swords and spears glinting in the moonlight. Liang danced between them, his movements a perfect blend of grace and brutality. His spear lashed out in every direction, severing limbs, piercing hearts, and shattering weapons.
"Do you hear their screams, Zhao?" Liang taunted as he impaled two warriors with a single thrust. "This is the sound of your failure. The sound of your lies crumbling."
More assassins appeared, their faces obscured by black masks. They surrounded Liang, their weapons poised to strike. He narrowed his eyes, his grip on the spear tightening.
"So, you send the shadows now?" Liang sneered. "Desperate times, indeed."
The assassins attacked in unison, but Liang met them head-on. He spun his spear in a wide arc, the blade cutting through flesh and bone with terrifying ease. Blood sprayed across the courtyard as the assassins fell one by one.
"I expected better," Liang muttered, his voice dripping with disdain. "Is this truly the might of the martial alliance? Pathetic."
He leapt into the air, his spear descending like a thunderbolt to skewer three more attackers. As he landed, a ring of enemies surrounded him, their weapons raised.
Liang smirked. "Come, then. Let me show you why they call me the Heavenly Spear."
For hours, it seemed, Liang fought without pause. The courtyard became a battlefield of blood and bodies, yet the attackers kept coming. Despite the overwhelming odds, Liang remained unyielding, his spear moving with precision and power.
"You think sheer numbers will defeat me?" he roared, his voice echoing over the din of battle. "I am Liang Zhen! Remember that name as you draw your last breath!"
Another wave charged at him, but Liang's movements were faster than the eye could follow. He deflected strikes with the shaft of his spear, countering with deadly thrusts that claimed more lives.
In a rare moment of respite, he turned his gaze to Zhao, who still stood at the edge of the battlefield, observing silently.
"Is this all you have, Zhao?" Liang called out, his voice filled with scorn. "You cower behind your pawns while I carve through them like wheat. Face me yourself, or admit your cowardice!"
Zhao's expression didn't change, but his voice carried a chilling weight.
"You will tire, Liang. Even the mightiest mountain crumbles with time. And when you do, I will be there to end this."
Liang's eyes was sharp and bitter. "Tire? You truly don't know me, Zhao. My will is unbreakable. My rage endless. If I fall, it will be on a mountain of your corpses!"
The fight continued, a relentless storm of violence and fury. Liang's body was battered and bloodied, but his resolve remained unshaken. Every enemy that fell was a testament to his unmatched skill and unyielding spirit.
He was sweating... Liang staggered leaning on the hilt of his spear.
Liang was silent as the rain started to pour heavily.
Zhao tian ren then began to move. He gazed down at Liang with the same detached calm he had always worn—the same expression of quiet authority, now stained with betrayal.
Liang tried to lift his spear, but his body refused. The weight of battle, of wounds too deep to mend, held him still.
Zhao sighed. "You fought well, Liang." His voice was steady, without mockery, without sympathy. "But this is the end."
Liang's spear trembled in his grip. Zhao leaned closer, his breath a whisper against the roar of the flames.
"Your father's last words were amusing. He swore you'd kill me. But look at you—broken, alone. The mighty Heavenly Spear, reduced to a dying dog."
Liang's vision swayed. His blood dripped onto the stone, his strength abandoning him. The spear in his hands—the very weapon that had carved his legend—felt like dead weight.
The burning heavens above seemed to close in on him, flames roaring like the voices of the dead. His father. His siblings. His clan.
A deep, searing pain tore through him as Zhao's blade found its mark in his abdominal.
Darkness closed in.
And then—silence
A few hours pass..
Liang barely escaped that night, his body, and his beloved spear broken, his clan annihilated. He stumbled through the wilderness, his vision fading as blood poured from his wounds. For the first time tears flew from the young general's eyes as he remembered the vision of the state of his own blood and clan. It was engraved in his mind. His sister's body mutilated, crucified and raped, both his twin brothers bodies crucified together with arrows to their bodies and their head severed
He screams as he cries blood swearing to annihilate each and every one starting from the emperor till the traitors of his clan.
By sheer will alone, he survived.
Days turned into weeks as he nursed himself back to health in a desolate mountain cave. It was there, in the silence and solitude, that his grief turned to rage.
"I knew this day would come," Liang murmured, his voice like steel. "But I was a fool to believe I could change the nature of men." His gaze fell on his spear, now chipped and battered into pieces, lying across his knees. He looks at his right arm, looking at the inheritance that he took from the Zhen family before he went to war. It was a tattoo. A very dark and ominous emmitant tattoo of a dragon with a spear head coming out of its mouth.
He then closed his eyes, the faces of his betrayers burned into his mind. Slowly, his lips curled into a bitter smile.
"I will not rest," Liang swore, his voice echoing through the cavern. "Not until every one of them pays with their lives."
Years pass as the scars remain reminding him of that day
Every day, he trained with a singular focus, pushing his body beyond its limits.
The Liang Zhen who had once fought to protect the weak was gone. In his place stood a man consumed by vengeance.
It had been 3 years and the man who was known to be the legend no longer had a spear.
The kusarigama's chains coiled around his arms like serpents, their scythes glinting in the moonlight. A farmer-turned-bandit had wielded them before Liang slit his throat. "Fitting," he'd muttered. "A peasant's tool to butcher nobles."
The young general was shaped into a man... A man filled with vengeance and revenge and no other emotions. He appears quite lean, the strength and vigor he once possessed, now seem obsolete.