"Why?"

"WHHYYY?!"

A shout rumbled like thunder in a distant sky, a reflection of the turmoil within a person's heart.

Amidst the desolate landscape, a lone figure knelt on the cold, unforgiving ground. Dark clouds loomed overhead, casting a pall of shadow across the scene, while a relentless drizzle fell, as if the heavens themselves wept for the tragedy unfolding below. The air was thick with unspoken sorrow.

Tears mingled with raindrops on his cheeks; his grief was like a torrential downpour from within as his sister lay in his arms. Her breath came in shallow, each one a painful reminder of their short time together. He held her close, trembling arms wrapped around her, desperately shielding her from this cruel reality.

As her breath gradually grew weaker, his life flashed before his eyes.

When he was three years old, the young boy wore a big smile while pointing at a shadow in the sky. He raised his head, gazing at the middle-aged man next to him. "Dad! I'm going to become a cultivator like them and use my power to protect our family."

His father's warm smile was etched into his heart, a stark contrast to the agony he now endured.

"Hahaha. Dad will support you with whatever you want to do." His supportive words had become a sharp nail in his heart. Those were the last words his father ever spoke to him.

The next day, his father returned home not on his own feet but with the help of four people carrying a stretcher made of ragged clothes. His body had gone cold, and his head had been half-destroyed.

It was said that his father had fallen from a cliff and was rescued by a cultivator. However, the truth was much worse.

When the innocent boy strolled around the market, the truth came to light one way or another.

An uncle from the shop whispered, "That kid is unlucky. I heard his father died because a cultivator used him for target practice, almost destroying his head."

"I heard that his mother became a widow and had to work in a brothel to feed the family."

The boy's pure admiration was not easily shaken. Even in the face of harsh truth, he still believed in the idols he had admired all this time.

Unfortunately, his tragedy had yet to end.

In just three more years, the boy had to kneel in front of the city gate. In his hands was his mother's lifeless body, now pale. He could do nothing but hug her as the soldiers had just cut the rope that had hung her on the wall.

Onlookers averted their gazes as though he didn't exist. The guards ignored the boy's cries. Instead, they stared at him as if he were filth, not because he was the son of a sex worker, but because he was the reason for his mother's death.

No one dared approach the child. They could only whisper to each other, spreading rumors of what had actually happened.

"Did you hear? His mother made a minor mistake, spilling some wine, and that small mistake cost her her life."

"What? Did the authorities take any action?"

"No. What could we do? The one who did it was a cultivator. Instead of upholding justice, the army just brushed it aside."

"Damn those cultivators. I've always hated them; they treat us like insects."

"But what can we do? We're just common people."

Their words felt like sharp blades, slashing his heart apart. All the remaining positive images of his idols shattered, casting a dark shadow over his heart.

Yet, the boy didn't descend into madness. After burying his mother, he returned home. One last light remained in his heart.

A warm smile that always greeted him in the morning, saying, "Good morning, Yu. Did you sleep well?"

It was his sister, the only family he had left. Despite the sorrow, they knew they had to keep living.

Without their parents to support them, the brother and sister did their best to weave sandals to earn a living. Even if they had to go to bed hungry, they clung to each other for survival. 

But even that tiny light eventually vanished.

On his sister's birthday, young Hao Yu went to the city to buy her a small present. Given their circumstances, this little joy meant a lot.

He carried the gift with a big smile on his face, but that smile disappeared the moment he reached the city gate.

Soldiers on horseback rushed westward, looking panicked and in a hurry.

A soldier shouted orders, "Hurry up! We need to assist the cultivators."

The boy was shocked because the direction the soldiers were headed was his village. Panicked, he dashed after them.

Sadly, it was too late. When he arrived, all that remained were lifeless bodies.

That was right. The entire village had been massacred, and the soldiers were searching the houses for survivors.

Without hesitation, the boy rushed to his home, only to find his sister's body lying on the ground. Her breath was already so weak that she could die at any moment.

A deep sword wound ran from her left shoulder down to her right waist, staining the ground red with her blood.

It seemed that her only reason for hanging on was the desire to see her brother one last time. Her face was pale, but she managed to offer a weak smile, parting with two last words.

"Live…on…"

That was likely the final memory they would create together as she closed her eyes for the last time.

"Elder Sister... Sis..." Hao Yu shook her lifeless body, tears streaming down his face. He held her fragile form and cried out, "Please, help my sister!"

The soldiers heard the boy's cries and rushed to check on her.

But it was in vain. The soldiers could only shake their heads, confirming her death.

"Why?"

"Why…" Hao Yu let out a loud cry.

Meanwhile, the soldiers couldn't do anything to console him. They could only watch from a distance, whispering among themselves.

"He's lucky to have been away when this happened."

"I heard that a cultivator was responsible. There was a conflict among the cultivators, and this village became the victim."

"Cultivators again... I was the first to arrive, but you'd be shocked when you see them. They didn't even flinch after killing all these people."

"I despise cultivators. They treat us like insects."

"But what can we do? We're just lowly commoners."

Their voices echoed in his ears. Lucky? No one would think that way if they had experienced what he had. His father died at the hands of a cultivator, his mother died because of a minor mistake, and everyone turned a blind eye simply because the culprit was a cultivator. Now his sister had died in his arms. He had longed to replace all these people if it could protect his beloved family.

The thunder grumbled as if expressing its anger.

"WHHYYYY?!!!"

The cultivators, once the light in his heart, had turned into pitch darkness. Hatred surged within him, a fiery storm fueled by injustice. His jaw clenched, his fingers tightened involuntarily around his sister's frail body.

He cast his gaze upward, narrowing his eyes at the heavens.

A thought flashed in his mind. 'Cultivators were said to be those who defied the heavens.'

'If that's the case, then I shall become Heaven itself. I will reject everything about cultivators and eradicate them so that no one dares to challenge me again.'

'I will remain a mortal and eliminate all cultivators, even if it's the last thing I do.'