The air reeked of blood and burning wood. Screams of the dying had long since faded, leaving only the crackling of fire and the occasional groan of shifting debris. The once-thriving Jin Tribe was no more.
Jin Xu staggered forward, his small body trembling. His clothes were soaked in grime and blood—some his own, most of it not. His dark eyes, once full of curiosity and innocence, now reflected the flickering flames that consumed his home.
Corpses lay strewn across the ground, warriors and civilians alike. Familiar faces twisted in agony, eyes frozen in terror. His father, once a proud hunter, now lay motionless beneath the rubble of their family hut. His mother's lifeless arms still clutched the body of his younger sister, as if trying to shield her even in death.
His legs buckled. He wanted to scream, to cry, but no sound came. His throat burned, whether from smoke or sorrow, he could not tell.
A heavy boot crushed the dirt near him. Jin Xu looked up, his vision blurry. Towering above him was a Gu Master of the Jin Tribe, clad in golden armor and his face partially concealed behind a mask sculpted like a roaring lion. In his hand, he held a long spear, its tip glistening red.
"Another rat still breathing?" the Gu Master sneered, raising his weapon. "Let's correct that."
Jin Xu's body screamed at him to move. But fear, exhaustion, and despair held him down like chains. His muscles refused to respond. The Gu Master's spear descended, and Jin Xu saw the reflection of his own terrified face in its polished surface.
Then— A sharp crack split the air. The spear, once aimed at his heart, shattered into fragments before it could strike.
Wind howled through the ruins, and the atmosphere shifted. From the shadows, a figure emerged.
The man before Jin Xu froze, his expression twisting from arrogance to sudden caution. The surrounding Gu Masters, once basking in their victory, stiffened like prey before a predator.
The newcomer wore tattered robes yet carried himself with an unshakable air of dominance. His long, unkempt hair was streaked with silver, and his piercing eyes held a depth that seemed to see through everything.
"…Who are you?" one of the Gu Masters demanded, gripping what remained of his weapon.
The man ignored him. His gaze fell on Jin Xu, who was barely clinging to consciousness. A moment passed. Then he spoke, his voice devoid of emotion.
"You want to live?"
Jin Xu, his body battered and his spirit broken, didn't understand the meaning behind the words. But even in his dazed state, something inside him burned—a small ember of defiance, refusing to be snuffed out.
With the last ounce of his strength, he nodded.
The mysterious man's lips curled slightly, almost imperceptibly. He turned his gaze back to the Gu Master, whose composure was cracking.
"Then forget who you were."
The Gu Master's jaw tightened. His hands trembled slightly, whether from fear or fury, Jin Xu did not know. But the battle was over before it truly began.
A gust of wind surged from the mysterious man, carrying an unseen pressure that made the Gu Masters stagger backward. One even fell to his knees, gasping for breath. The air itself became heavier, charged with an unknown force.
"You—!" the Gu Master leader started to shout, but he never got the chance to finish.
A blur of movement— In the next second, the leader's head left his shoulders, spinning into the air before landing with a dull thud. A clean cut, as if his neck had never even resisted the blade.
Silence.
The remaining Gu Masters, once filled with arrogance, now trembled like children before a storm. They turned on their heels and ran.
Jin Xu's vision blurred. The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was the shattered remains of his past life fading into the wind.
Jin Xu awoke to the sensation of cold stone beneath his back. His body ached, his wounds pulsed, but he was alive.
A dim fire flickered nearby. Shadows danced on the cave walls, and the faint scent of herbs lingered in the air.
Sitting a short distance away was the man who had saved him. He was seated cross-legged, his expression unreadable as he sharpened a dagger against a whetstone.
Jin Xu tried to sit up but found his limbs too weak. The man didn't look at him at first, but then spoke.
"You survived."
Jin Xu swallowed, his throat dry. He wanted to ask so many things—Who was this man? Why did he save him?—but he could barely form words.
The man finally turned his gaze toward Jin Xu. "I don't save the weak," he said. "I save those who have potential."
Jin Xu clenched his fists. His family was gone. His tribe was gone. He had nothing left.
No.
That wasn't true.
He still had himself.
And as long as he lived, he could make them pay.
Seeing the flicker of resolve in Jin Xu's eyes, the man's lips curled into a faint smirk. "Good," he said. "We begin your training at dawn."
And so, the last survivor of the Jin Tribe was reborn—not as a victim, but as something far, far deadlier.