The sun was hiding behind the horizon, casting its last light over a small village called "Spring Flower." The village, nestled between the embrace of nearby forests and hills close to the Mist Flower Sect.
Night crept into the village like a heavy visitor, spreading its dark cloak over the small wooden huts. The stars, which usually adorned the sky, had disappeared behind thick clouds, resembling mysterious shadows concealing secrets. The air was cold, but it wasn't just a natural chill; it carried with it a strange calm, as if nature itself held its breath in ominous anticipation, awaiting the birth of a hidden disaster. The village of Spring Flower, which had always lived in reassuring tranquility, did not know that this night would be its last.
The small wooden huts were scattered amid fertile fields like seeds that had sprouted without order, sheltered by the dense forest that surrounded them like a natural wall. The windows of the huts reflected a pale light from oil lamps, while shadows danced on the interior walls as if they were spirits unaware of the impending danger. Despite its simplicity, the village was under the protection of the Mist Flower Sect. For the villagers, this was enough to let them sleep at night without fear… at least until now.
However, some villagers couldn't hide their worries during the day. The inner disciple of the sect responsible for protecting the village had left at noon in response to an urgent call from the sect elder to confront a spirit beast attack in neighboring villages. 'He'll be back before evening,' the villagers said confidently, being accustomed to his quick response… but night came, and he had not returned.
Inside a modest hut on the village's outskirts, nine-year-old Zhou Yuan sat on the floor, watching his mother as she rearranged the firewood by the hearth. His deep blue eyes shone with intelligence and curiosity beyond his years, but he remained silent for a while before speaking.
"Mother, will I ever be strong?"
He asked in a quiet voice, but it was not devoid of hidden desire. For a moment, his mother, Liu Hua, saw something strange in his deep blue eyes, as if she were staring into an endless void. Her heart tightened for a moment without knowing why, but she quickly ignored the fleeting feeling and smiled at him. Holding a piece of firewood in her hands, she said, "And why do you want to be strong, my son?"
Zhou Yuan hesitated for a moment, then answered honestly, "So I can protect you and father… I don't want to be weak."
Liu Hua felt a slight inner turmoil, but she didn't show it. She sat beside him and placed her hand on his head. "My dear, strength isn't just muscles or combat skills. True strength is in the ability to make the right decision when the time comes."
Zhou Yuan wasn't entirely convinced, but he nodded. There was something inside him that rejected this simple answer.
On the other side of the room, his father, Zhou Ling, was sharpening his long spear, his brows furrowed as if in a silent battle with his thoughts.
"Don't complicate things, Liu Hua. Strength is strength, and the weak are crushed in this world. That's the reality," he said in a deep voice without looking up from his spear.
Liu Hua raised an eyebrow and looked at her husband. "Really? And have you forgotten that strength sometimes comes with a price not everyone can afford?"
"If the price is protecting my family, I'd pay it without hesitation," Zhou Ling replied confidently, then turned to his son. "Listen, Zhou Yuan, true strength isn't just being stronger than your opponent, but understanding when and how to use your power."
Zhou Yuan continued to look at his father silently. His father's words made sense, but something in his voice made him feel that his father spoke from experience, an experience he didn't want to talk about.
"I heard that the spirit beasts attacking other villages were behaving strangely," Zhou Ling said while sharpening his spear. "They weren't like the usual beasts that only defend their territory. They attacked in organized groups, as if led by something."
Liu Hua raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Maybe it was just a coincidence. But if true, it means something dangerous is approaching."
Outside, the wind was violently shaking the trees. Suddenly, everything stopped. No wind sound, no movement in the air. It was as if nature had frozen in place.
Zhou Ling immediately raised his head, and his facial expression changed from relaxation to caution. He put his spear beside him and quickly got up, heading towards the door.
"What is it?" Liu Hua asked in a low voice, but received no answer.
Zhou Ling opened a small gap in the door and looked outside. His eyes widened slightly when he saw a fire glow on the other side of the village. The muffled sounds of screams began to reach his ears.
"No time to explain. Take Zhou Yuan and his sister and go to the forest. Don't stop, don't look back," he said firmly, grabbing his spear.
"But—"
"I said don't stop!" he shouted, tightening his grip on the spear. "I'll follow you, just go."
The tension in his voice made Liu Hua realize the situation was more serious than she had imagined. She grabbed Zhou Yuan's hand and signaled him to follow her.
"Mother, what's happening?" Zhou Yuan asked, trying to look back.
"Don't ask now. Just move!"
Outside the hut, high-pitched screams filled the air, mingling with the sounds of swords tearing flesh and bone. One of the mercenaries, holding a burning torch, approached a burning hut and began pushing fleeing villagers towards the fire. The sounds of their screams pierced the air, but he was unaffected. Instead, he looked at his companions and said, "Do you smell that? The smell of roasting meat... maybe we'll take some with us tonight." Blood covered the dirt roads, flowing like a black stream telling stories of unforgettable suffering. Every scream echoed in the horizon, fading as if the earth itself swallowed it.
Another mercenary, dragging a screaming little girl, looked at the leader and asked with a smile: "Sir, children cry delightfully when we cut their fingers first. Doesn't this pleasure deserve a little time?"
The huge leader, known as Xiao Rang, stood atop the nightmare, holding a sword blazing with black flames. He looked coldly at the burning huts, then at a mercenary dragging a little girl. "If you're looking for fun, I'll show you fun in our camp. Now kill her."
Then he added in a deathly whistle-like voice: "Don't waste time. Their blood is no ordinary blood. The elder wants it pure. Any drop wasted on the ground means punishment for you."
As Liu Hua dragged her children towards the fields, three mercenaries appeared before them. The first was short with a face scarred as if it had once been burned. His eyes gleamed with a frightening reddish hue, and a twisted smile revealed irregular yellow teeth.
"Where do you think you're going?" he said in a rough voice. Then added while licking his lips: "Your running makes it more fun."
Liu Hua didn't hesitate for a moment. She quickly placed Zhou Yuan behind her, picked up a small stone from the ground, and tightened her grip on it.
"Stay behind me!" she shouted, but didn't finish her sentence before one of the mercenaries attacked her. With a jagged sword he slowly drove into her chest, he whispered in her ear: "Brave mothers always give us a fun time."
Her strangled voice didn't stop him. The sword rose again, and blood flooded the ground beneath her feet. Her weak body hit the ground with a thud, but that sound echoed in Zhou Yuan's mind as an endless resonance, like knocking on a fragile wall shattering something inside him he didn't know could break.
"Mother!"
Zhou Yuan's scream split the air, but to him, it felt like it went nowhere, as if the sound itself vanished into a deep void.
His small body froze in place, as if his feet were glued to the ground. His wide eyes, filled with shock, couldn't look away from his mother's body collapsing slowly before him. The blood flowing from her chest seemed to move unnaturally slowly, its dark red color reflected in his eyes like an indelible stain.
Time seemed distorted, either painfully slow or rushing forward violently. What is this feeling? His heart pounded against his chest, yet he felt as if the air had abandoned him. His breaths were shallow, closer to panicked gasps, while his small hand trembled involuntarily.
Inside his head, everything screamed:
"No… this isn't possible. This isn't real."
But it was real. The metallic sound the sword made as it pierced his mother's body, the way she looked at him in her final moments, a look of pain and fear, but also love and protection. Even in her last moment, she thought of him, not herself.
Why didn't he move? Why didn't he do something?
He was helpless. Weak. Powerless.
With every passing second, a heavy feeling like a rock settled on his chest. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks, but he didn't feel them. Inside, there was a raging war between conflicting emotions: fear, anger, guilt, and despair.
"If I were strong..."
These words echoed in his mind like an unending resonance. Strength, that's all he needed. If he were strong enough, he could have protected his mother. He could have protected his sister. But he didn't.
Then, as his mother's body hit the ground, that "rock" weighing on his chest took a new form: fire.
At first, it was a weak flame, barely able to burn. But with every second, with every horrific scene before his eyes, the flame grew stronger.
Anger began to overcome fear, but it wasn't a random anger. It wasn't a momentary burst that would soon fade. It was a promise, an unspoken vow:
"I will not be weak anymore."
Zhou Yuan, who stood there like a rock in the storm, felt something inside him change forever. The child who asked his mother about strength in the morning… died at that moment.