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Chapter 0: Before the Fire, the Rift Whispered

  The inspiration for Soul Ferryman came from a dream of flames.

  In that dream, I tried to save lost souls—

  but I was powerless.

  It made me think of the soul guides of the underworld—

  Black and White Impermanence.

  But what if they were more than just enforcers of fate?

  What if they had souls of their own... and choices?

  What then?

  In Daoist belief, reincarnation requires passing through ten trials,

  culminating in the Hall of the King of Hell.

  But the King of Hell is merely a position—

  a ruler bound by ancient law.

  Can such laws remain unchanged forever?

  And when order begins to falter,

  when its enforcers start to question the rules...

  Can the world still hold?

  This idea came from my real-life experience as a manager.

  I often saw employees with better solutions—

  yet still bound by outdated SOPs.

  Rules exist to help systems function.

  But when they become rigid,

  they leave no room for evolution.

  And I began to wonder—

  Is the Spiritual Realm really any different?

  In my story, the Thirteenth Envoy is the Soul Ferrymen—

  guides who lead the dead across the threshold to their next life.

  But what happens when Soul Ferrymen begin to grow souls of their own?

  When the Judges feel powerless?

  And when the Rift appears, shaking the very foundation of all that was once called “order”?

  What choices remain?

  In the end, the male protagonist chooses to vanish—

  to be erased from memory.

  Because for the living, memory is the heaviest shackle.

  He chooses to become “nothing”—

  Yet his love remains,

  everywhere.

  ——————

  When the Rift appears, the rules of the world will no longer remain whole.

  Can Order and Judgment truly define what is good or evil?

  Are laws always just?

  Are rules truly infallible?

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  Some guard the Order, sealing the Rift.

  Others whisper in the shadows, questioning the truth of the world.

  When flame consumes reality,

  When black mist engulfs the soul—

  Who has the right to decide the future?

  When faith collapses and judgment descends—

  Does Chuxin still remain?

  —The trial has already begun,

  and the Rift can no longer be closed.

  This is an era where Order collapses, the Rift awakens, and memory fades.

  Only the chosen one can awaken the truth.

  ———————

  “This time, I won’t escape.” — Lin Xiaoqing

  “Right or wrong, I’ll choose my own path.” — Song Lanfeng

  “The world isn’t just black and white—It’s the human heart that holds the deepest fog.” — Li Yu

  ———————

  The world had never truly been whole.

  The Rift—a nameless space between the Mortal Realm and the Realm of Souls—harbored countless abandoned souls.

  The Silver Wings once stood for Order—the Thirteenth Envoy, tasked with upholding balance between realms.

  Rules defined good and evil, just as laws defined justice and sin.

  But as the Rift expands, and the world begins to tremble—

  do those rules still hold?

  Night descends.

  Invisible power seeps deep into the city’s heart.

  Streetlights flicker. Traffic veers ever so slightly.

  Shadows stretch at alley ends—yet no longer align with those who cast them.

  No one notices—the collapse of Order has already begun.

  No one, except us.

  We see them.

  The dead are waking, slowly, from deep within the Rift.

  Is this the world’s mistake?

  Or was the world always fractured?

  The Soulbreaker stands before a crumbling palace,

  gazing upon the Rift—chained and bound.

  Black mist roils.

  The whispers of the dead rise and fall,

  coiling around his ears like curses:

  “Rules define good and evil, just as laws define justice and sin.”

  He chuckles softly, his voice laced with contempt.

  “But are laws always just?

  Do rules never fail?”

  His eyes pierce the darkness.

  In the distance, a silver light begins to draw near.

  The Arbiter has arrived.

  Silver irises, blade in hand—its edge radiating a cold, silver glow:

  the chill of Order itself.

  The Soulbreaker only spreads his arms, fearless.

  A slight smile curves his lips.

  “Do you truly believe the world needs rules to survive?”

  He speaks slowly—softly—like a sigh.

  Or like a lure.

  “Or is it simply that you fear a world... without rules?”

  The Arbiter’s hand, gripping the sword, trembles—ever so slightly.

  The Soulbreaker narrows his eyes, amusement flashing within them.

  “This time, nothing can stop me.”

  The Rift begins to expand.

  The war between Order and the Rift has begun.

  And this war—

  begins with her dream.

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