PROLOGUE

In a cold room where no window existed, not even a small hole. The walls were tightly packed with cement, making the temperature inside the room worse. Completely torn off from the outside world, tangled in chains that were highly coated with a forbidden spell. 

A lamp was hanging up in the corner, the yellow flames within it were enough to show a silhouette standing in the middle of the cold room. Chains tightly tangled around his wrists, the room was so cold and silent, even the blood drops falling from his wrists on the cold ground made a loud and clear sound.

The person standing in between the room, tightly held down by chains with spells was no one other than a woman. Her silhouette was at least 167 cm long. Her white robe was drenched in blood, some blood stains were dry and some were newly formed. Her mouth was tightly shut by one of the spells, trailing her off from casting her own magic. 

As if this wasn't enough to stop her from escaping, both of her index fingers were broken, trailing her off once again from using any of her spells. Notwithstanding, she tried to cast a spell but failed miserably due to her lack of stamina. 

But still stood as if she hadn't been ruthlessly tortured for a week straight now. Her posture was straight, her expression was stern and her eyes were cold. Not a hint of tear or pain within those green eyes. 

Her long, brown, and thick hair was draping down on her shoulders like a curtain, and some were resting on her back, somehow giving her a little warmth. Her face hung low as she pondered over the barbarous being who caught her.

She slightly raised her eyes once she heard footsteps coming towards the room. The surroundings were so calm, the footsteps were even louder as if the person was walking in anger. In no time, the door flung open by a strong kick, half hanging by the strings for his dear life.

She did not flinch.

She was one of the masters of the Liberation front sect.

She lowered her gaze, not wanting to see the person before her. The man standing in front of her was almost 190 cm tall, and he had such pale skin...it was so pale, you can even spot him in the darkest of the dark room because of his pale skin. After all, he was the head of the Linya clan. He easily overshadowed her silhouette with his.

She dared to look up right into his eyes.

The man was breathtakingly handsome, he was tall and had pale skin. His hair was dark black and long till his waist, they were slightly wavy. His eyebrows were sharp like blades, they were thick and black going well with his pale skin. His eyelashes were thick and long too and his eyes were so black and deep, they were so cold, she could hear screams of those who he killed brutally in the depth of his dark black orbs.

His nose was thin and sleek, and his lips were thin and long but even after all these godly features, he possessed the personality of a devil. In the eyes of the people, he was nothing but a monster seeking another monster. Trampling people's life, trampling clans and sects just to bring someone like himself back to life. 

He wore a black robe with a black leather belt around his strong slender waist. He wore long black shoes just like her. They were ending below their knees. His sleeves were tight unlike hers, they were wide. A black wolf's fur scarf was resting on his broad shoulders and his lapel had golden embroidery on it. 

She never pitied herself, no matter what she went through...but one thing made her pity herself. She engraved his flame tattoo between her chest and he engraved her flame tattoo on his right arm. Their souls were tangled but none of them cared. 

They were going against fate.

"Even after all this I still see no reaction on your face. I must say... you're truly from the liberation front, judging by those green eyes you belong to the scarlet blossom clan." He said, his dark black eyes looking at her from head to toe. He took a step closer to her, they had an arm gap between them. This was the first time he, himself showed up. The first time, she had a close look at him. Before that, it was either his men torturing her for answers or some delicate maids with food that almost tastes like a gutter.

"You bear no feminine behavior. No delicacy at all...even after being from such a gentle clan." He said he had seven percent coldness in his eyes and three percent anger. 

"What a crappy match God has made. You see I'm into a woman who is delicate, soft, and extremely beautiful. The one who trembles beneath me even when I just look at them. That makes me look more powerful." He said and she snorted. Finally looking up into his eyes. 

She was not delicate, she was not soft. She did not tremble beneath his gaze; instead, she passed him a gold, icy look with a stern face. 

She was his soulmate, downright opposite to his taste.

Her snort was enough to mock him, the side of his lips twitched and he did not remove the spell from her lips. 

"No matter what I did, you still did not speak. Tell me should I pull out that tongue of yours? After all, your magic all relies on your voice." He said, threatening her, wanting to see a reaction from her but she stood unfazed. Coldly staring into his soul.

"Should I cut your already broken figure so that you won't be able to use any of your spells anymore? They are useless anyway." He said, staring down at her as if she was a peasant. She never cursed her fate for her hard life but she did when she suddenly engraved his tattoo on her chest.

But still did not waver.

Seeing her unfazed, his jaw clenched in anger. His seven percent cold turned into seven percent anger and three percent anger turned into three percent hatred.

His eyes suddenly caught fresh blood trailing down her cheek from the fresh beat she got an hour ago.

Such satisfaction he got whenever he saw blood. He raised his long and pale hand, it was so pale his veins beneath the skin can be seen easily. Without a second thought, an idea crossed his mind and he decided to touch her even though he had no desire to.

He brought his hand closer to her cheek and caressed the blood trailing down her cheek. After everything he had heard about her, how holy she is, how chaste she is...he wanted to test something. His wicked intention always gets others and sometimes himself too.

As soon as his cold hand came in contact with her cold cheek. Her eyes slightly widened in anger and she pulled away as if burnt by his touch. The loud noise of chains suddenly echoed in the deadly silent room. She abruptly stepped back and rubbed her cheek on her shoulder aggressively before passing him a disgusting look, her eyes were red as if angry.

He could not help but stare at her...the corner of his lips slightly curved up once his black cold orbs got buried into her green one. Those green orbs held anger and disgust in them.

She was acting like she was robbed of her chastity in front of the whole crowd. 

"I see..." He whispered under his breath. Nothing made her react but his slightest touch.

He felt sudden excitement...after all, he loved pain and loved to see people in pain. Since nothing made her answer...his touch will. 

As if he forgot...if he was the 'Devil on earth', 'The dark blade of Linya', 'The leader of the shadow army' then she was the master of those disciples who was blooming within her guidelines and will attain the world in the future.

They were different, so different, yet bound by fate. 

Will the flame vanish before it can even bloom?