Reborn as a Devouring Dragon with a System
Chapter 144: Lifetimes of Suffering, Pain and sorrow (5)

Chapter 144: Lifetimes of Suffering, Pain and sorrow (5)

"Why..."

"Why me..."

A young man was falling into a bottomless abyss—he was the embodiment of brokenness. Ninety-nine lifetimes of love, pain, suffering, and heartbreak.

Each time, he had fallen in love with the same woman. And each time, fate carved a tragic ending.

He was reborn as a young master of a wealthy clan—but he fell in love with a maid named Lyla. The maid loved him too. They were the very definition of true love.

She was a beauty capable of enchanting countless men. He, too, was handsome enough to captivate any woman.

Then came the news—sudden and cruel. She was dead.

And what happened was this: a young master, more powerful in influence, riches, and might, had set his eyes on her. Enamored by her beauty, he desired her. But she refused him. Her heart belonged to another—him.

The young master persisted, pestering her again and again. But Lyla never yielded.

Until, at last, his patience shattered. He tried to violate her.

By sheer chance, she escaped—mere seconds before the deed. But she knew she couldn’t run forever. She knew she couldn’t win.

And so, in those fleeting moments of freedom, she chose death. Rather than be defiled, she took her own life.

When the young man found her corpse—those lifeless eyes staring through time—he roared into the heavens:

"If my name isn’t Drakion, I will have my revenge!"

He spent every coin he owned and bought a coffin—one forged from ancient materials, capable of preserving her body through the ages. Then he severed all ties with his family, unwilling to drag them into the storm that would follow.

It was then that a legend was born.

The Coffin-Carrying Man.

His identity was unknown. But his wrath was a storm that swept across the lands. One by one, he hunted a specific breed of men. The vile. The complicit. The guilty.

He killed them with ruthless precision. They searched for him—desperately—but found only whispers.

And then, he annihilated an entire clan—erased them from the world like a name scratched off stone. They were one of the most powerful clans. Now, they were dust.

That massacre carved his name in legend.

The Coffin-Carrying Man.

"Lyla, don’t worry," Drakion whispered, standing beside the coffin—his fingers brushing the cold wood as he looked at the beautiful maiden inside, her face serene, as though still dreaming. "I will help you get your revenge."

But the enemy—the young master—was from a world beyond theirs. A higher world. Stronger. Older.

And Drakion... he planned to ascend.

If anyone had known that he was defying the heavens not for power, not for glory, but for a maid, they would have been speechless.

He began his ascension, but the karma of the countless deaths he’d caused weighed heavy on his soul. The tribulation struck him with brutal fury.

But he endured it—carrying the coffin on his back as he rose into the next world.

There, he found the one responsible. He didn’t strike immediately. No. He lay low, biding his time. He grew stronger. And stronger. And stronger—until the world could no longer ignore him.

Then he struck.

The world watched as the Coffin-Carrying Man declared war.

For a maid.

He fought to the death, slaughtering not only the one who had wronged Lyla, but all those who had shielded or aided him.

And when it was over—when his vengeance was fulfilled—he stood beside the coffin once more.

"I have finally avenged you, Lyla," he said softly, a rare smile forming across his tired face.

He opened the coffin, entered it, and pulled her close—her head resting gently against his chest. The coffin was no longer what it once was. He had reforged it, elevated its grade. It was worthy now.

He activated the coffin, commanding it to bury itself in the deepest parts of the earth—far beyond reach.

"I can finally join you, Lyla."

And with that... he committed suicide.

A soft smile lingered on his lips, but sorrow deeper than the stars stretched across his face.

\\\

Another moment... he was reborn as a prince of an empire. And once again, he fell in love with a lowly commoner. Her name was Lyla.

His father—the Emperor—vehemently opposed the relationship.

And the reason was clear: he was a prince. A prodigy. The most talented of all his siblings. The Emperor had already decided to make him crown prince.

But he refused.

He vanished without a trace, eloping with the commoner. A prince disappearing into obscurity.

He hid with her in a quiet mortal town, living in secret. For a while, they knew happiness. Peace. Love.

But only for a moment.

Three years passed. They had a daughter—now over a year old. That day, he had gone out to hunt, to bring back something for them to eat.

But when he returned...

All he found were corpses—his wife and child lying lifeless.

AHHHHH!

His scream tore through the skies. The heavens shuddered. His eyes turned hollow, stripped of all light, all will to live.

He buried his wife and daughter. And then, he began his path of revenge.

After countless deaths, he found the truth.

The one behind it all... was his father. The Emperor.

Drakion’s soul wailed in agony. He stared at the man who gave him life and whispered:

"Why... why... why, Dad?"

The Emperor stood frozen—shocked. He never imagined his actions would twist his own son into this... this empty thing filled only with rage. Those eyes—they held nothing but death.

Before the Emperor could utter a word...

His head was severed.

"I have finally avenged you, Lyla."

Drakion returned to the burial site of his wife and daughter. Without hesitation, he committed suicide—burying himself beside them.

It continued.

And continued.

A cycle of love, pain, and sorrow.

\\

A dark-skinned young man walked along the roadside. A sad story lingered behind every step. He had the worst luck with women—rejected by ninety-nine ladies.

Wandering downtown, he spotted a foreign girl—young, probably around sixteen. He, himself, was twenty.

She stopped him, a bit lost.

"Please... how can I get back to Lagos Airport?" she asked softly. Then she added, with a slight bow, "Oh, sorry for not introducing myself—my name is Lyla."