Bloodcurdling screams echoed across the Jing Manor.

The sounds of swords slashing against each other, metal against metal, filled the entire courtyard.

A man dressed in fine red and black sat atop a tall tree, leisurely taking large sips of the recently popular wine in Luoyang. His eyes were shrouded by a few bangs of unruly hair, but a light shade of red peeked out from within. His lips were tilted into a light curve as he stared at the countless bodies that bled onto the courtyard tiles.

The man leaned his head back against the tree trunk, gazing up at the moon with a carefree smile as the Jing Manor caught fire and burned under the glowing moonlight.

"Hic!" A small figure covered in a tattered and soot-lined white robe ran out from within the flames, tears streaming down his face.

The boy held the palm of his hands over his mouth to prevent his cries of anguish from escaping.

The men responsible for such a massacre, all masked and shrouded in dull robes, encircled the compound of the manor. They had thickly braided hair with ghost feathers and a blood red tattoo slithered on their wrist.

The Ghost Valley.

The men of the Ghost Valley sliced apart the survivors who dared climb over the wall to escape from the spreading flames.

As soon as the boy stepped out of the courtyard, one of the men encircled him. The man swung a broad and blood tainted heavy sword, intending to cut down the boy with a single move. After all, his opponent was nothing but a mere child, his age running somewhere between ten to twelve.

The boy froze at the sight of the weapon swinging down on him but ducked in an unbalanced manner at the last moment. A huge chunk of his long hair was torn apart by the sword and all that remained were fine brown strands that unevenly caressed his slightly burnt shoulder.

As the man swung his sword once more, the boy lifted his palm and delivered a heavy blow at his shoulder. The sound of a bone being dislocated could be heard from the effect of the Jing clan's special martial art technique, the Nine Hands of God, and the man gritted his teeth in anger. He stopped underestimating the boy and went all out, driving his sword to the boy's heart.

The boy shifted quickly and the sword pierced through his arms and sent him flying to a tree. As his body slammed against the tree trunk, it violently shook, spilling some of the man on the tree's wine.

It landed on his cheek, sliding down, and the boy jutted out a tongue to taste it. The weird and strong taste had the boy wanting to puke and he looked up to catch a glimpse of a pair of legs. But before he could observe more, the man from the ghost valley attacked him.

The boy rolled on the ground as he tried to evade the attack. He was grabbed by the throat and pressed to the ground. He coughed and flailed his arms around, his eyes focusing not on the man who held his neck and could command his death, but rather on the man who stayed on the tree.

The man on the tree smirked at the boy as his face turned a pale shade of purple from the suffocation. He masked his red eyes and stared straight at the boy with a false shade of light blue, the eyes of a common cultivator.

The boy broke away contact first as he roughly grabbed the head of the man suffocating him and yanked at his hair. He even opened his mouth to bite at the man causing him to groan in pain.

Clearly, he was not using any technique at the moment, fighting purely on his instinct to survive. But being the sheltered and righteous young master he was, he couldn't bear to deal a fatal death blow and kill the man in front of him.

Chugging another mouthful of wine, the man on the tree pressed his index and middle finger together and made a soft flick downwards.

Suddenly, the boy felt a heavy force manipulated his arm and before he could hesitate, he landed the Third Hand of God at the member of the Ghost Valley. The man's eyes rolled back as he spewed out a mouthful of blood, before he collapsed onto the ground motionless.

The boy covered in blood and wet mud stared at the blood in his hands and at the dead man before him. His face was frozen as he recollected all that had happened.

The clouds came together in the night sky, masking the bright moonlight. And as they collided, heavy drops of rain fell, putting out the fire in the Jing Manor and leaving behind nothing but the remains of some bones and ashes.

Thunder clapped the skies and along with it the boy's silent tears thudded onto the floor.