The prison was shrouded in darkness.
Not a single ray of light could penetrate its depths. The air was cold and damp, carrying a faint stench of blood that seemed to have seeped into the very walls. Somewhere in the distance, water dripped steadily onto the stone floor.
Clink! Clink!
The sound of chains echoed through the silent chamber. At the center of the prison sat a young boy, his thin figure barely distinguishable from the surrounding darkness. Heavy iron chains bound his wrists and ankles, while his disheveled black hair hung over a pale, emaciated face.
His clothes were torn beyond recognition, and countless scars covered his body. Some had long since healed, leaving behind ugly marks, while others were still fresh, with traces of dried blood clinging to his skin. Yet despite his miserable appearance, the boy remained motionless. His dark eyes stared at the ground, devoid of the fear or despair one might expect from a child in his circumstances. Only the occasional movement of his fingers suggested that he was still conscious.
Suddenly, a gentle voice broke the silence.
"Child, have you finally come to your senses?"
A woman emerged from the darkness. She wore flowing crimson robes that accentuated her slender figure. Her long, snow-white hair fell past her waist, while her beautiful face carried a warm, almost motherly smile. However, her eyes were an unnatural shade of red, resembling two pools of fresh blood.
"Why must you continue making things difficult for yourself?" she asked softly. "You've already suffered so much. Wouldn't it be better to tell us what we want to know?"
The woman crouched before the boy and reached out to brush a strand of hair away from his forehead. Yang Bei instinctively leaned back. Her hand paused. For a brief moment, something cold flashed through her crimson eyes. Then her gentle smile returned.
"Still afraid of me?"
Yang Bei did not answer.
The woman sighed. "Look at you. You're barely recognizable anymore." She studied his face, seemingly searching for some trace of the child who had first been brought into this prison six years ago. "All this suffering could have ended long ago. You only needed to cooperate."
Yang Bei slowly raised his head. His lips moved faintly.
"Father..." His voice was hoarse, almost inaudible. "Mother..."
The woman's smile faded slightly.
Yang Bei lowered his gaze. "Forgive this useless son."
Crack!
His fists clenched so tightly that his fingernails pierced his palms. Fresh blood dripped between his fingers, falling onto the stone floor.
Drip. Drip.
The sound was particularly clear in the deathly silent chamber. The woman watched him for a moment before shaking her head.
"Yang Bei, must you continue being so stubborn?"
For the first time, the boy looked directly into her eyes. She felt an inexplicable chill. There was no obvious killing intent in his gaze, nor the frantic hatred she had witnessed from countless prisoners. His expression was almost unnaturally calm. That calmness disturbed her more than any curse or threat could have.
"Have you finally decided to cooperate?" she asked.
Yang Bei's lips slowly curved into a faint smile.
"I'll kill you."
The chamber fell silent. The woman stared at him before letting out a soft sigh.
"How unfortunate."
With a wave of her sleeve, a golden whip appeared in her hand. Strange runes flickered across its surface, emitting a faint spiritual radiance.
"Since you refuse to listen, I have no choice."
She raised her arm.
Whoosh!
The whip tore through the air. Yang Bei closed his eyes, and in that brief moment, memories he had desperately tried to bury resurfaced.
Six years earlier.
The autumn festival had arrived in Willow Creek Village.
Colorful lanterns hung from the rooftops, and the streets were filled with laughter. Merchants shouted to attract customers, children chased one another between the stalls, and the pleasant aroma of roasted meat drifted through the evening air.
A five-year-old boy walked through the crowd, holding tightly to his father's sleeve.
"Father! Look!"
Yang Bei pointed excitedly toward a performer juggling several flaming daggers. The performer moved with astonishing agility, his feet shifting across the ground as though he weighed nothing.
Yang Li followed his son's gaze, a smile appearing on his weathered face. "Bei-er, what do you notice about that man?"
Yang Bei tilted his head. "He's really fast!"
Yang Li chuckled. "Look at his feet."
Yang Bei immediately turned his attention downward. The performer shifted his weight from one foot to the other, making small, almost imperceptible movements.
"Do you see it?"
Yang Bei nodded, although he did not entirely understand.
"That is a variation of the Cloud-Stepping stance," Yang Li explained. "Even ordinary performances can contain the principles of martial cultivation." He gently patted his son's head. "Remember this, Bei-er. Strength isn't merely about how hard you strike. A cultivator must learn to observe."
Yang Bei's eyes shone. "Father, when can I start cultivating?"
"Haha! Already impatient?" Yang Li laughed heartily. "When you turn ten, I'll personally teach you our family's cultivation technique."
"Why not now?"
"Because your meridians are still developing. Cultivation requires patience. If you rush and damage your foundation, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."
Yang Bei puffed out his cheeks. "Five years is too long!"
A melodious laugh sounded behind them.
"Look at our little Bei-er. He hasn't even begun cultivating, yet he's already dreaming of becoming an immortal."
A beautiful woman approached, carrying a small bundle of festival sweets. She was Yang Bei's mother.
"Mother!"
Yang Bei immediately released his father's sleeve and ran toward her. She caught him in her arms.
"Did you behave yourself?"
"Of course!"
Yang Li raised an eyebrow. "Then who was complaining about waiting five years to cultivate?"
"Father!"
The three of them burst into laughter.
For Yang Bei, those ordinary moments were more precious than anything in the world. He did not know what powerful cultivators looked like, nor did he understand the vastness of the cultivation world. He only knew that his father was strong, his mother was gentle, and their little village was the safest place imaginable.
That evening, his mother tied a red ribbon around his wrist.
"For good luck," she said.
Yang Bei looked at it curiously. "Will it make me stronger?"
She smiled. "No. But whenever you look at it, you'll remember that your mother is cheering for you."
Yang Bei grinned. "Then I'll never take it off!"
His mother laughed and gently pinched his cheek.
"My Little Dragon."
Yang Bei hugged her tightly. He had no way of knowing that this would be the last festival they ever spent together.
That night, disaster descended upon Willow Creek Village.
Rumble!
A terrifying pressure suddenly enveloped the entire settlement. The ground trembled, and the lanterns hanging along the streets shattered one after another. Before the villagers could understand what was happening, five figures appeared above the village.
They wore gray robes, each bearing a strange beast-shaped insignia on the forehead. At their head stood a towering man whose muscular arms were covered in bone-white tattoos. Between his brows was the image of a black tortoise.
The man's name was Cai Heng.
His gaze swept across the village before settling on a particular area.
"So this is the place."
One of the gray-robed cultivators stepped forward. "Elder Cai, shall we begin searching?"
Cai Heng's expression remained indifferent. "There's no need to waste time."
The black tortoise insignia between his brows suddenly began to glow.
"Manifest!"
Boom!
A monstrous silhouette appeared behind him. It was an enormous black tortoise, so vast that its body seemed to cover the entire village. Its shell resembled an ancient mountain, while its gaping jaws revealed rows of jagged teeth.
A dreadful aura spread in every direction. The villagers collapsed to the ground. Some fainted immediately, while others screamed in terror.
Yang Li rushed outside with his wife and son. When he saw the enormous creature looming overhead, his expression changed drastically.
"A demonic beast manifestation?"
He had barely finished speaking when the tortoise opened its mouth.
Whoosh!
A violent suction force swept through the village. Houses collapsed, trees were uprooted, and villagers were dragged into the creature's enormous jaws. Their desperate cries disappeared into the night as entire sections of Willow Creek Village vanished.
"Run!"
Yang Li grabbed his wife and son, preparing to flee. However, before he could take another step, a cold voice sounded.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Cai Heng appeared before them. Yang Li immediately placed himself between the stranger and his family.
"Senior, we have no grievances with you. Why are you attacking our village?"
Cai Heng ignored the question. His gaze swept over the small residence behind them.
"Where is it?"
Yang Li frowned. "What?"
"The thing your family has been hiding."
"I don't understand what Senior means."
Cai Heng's eyes turned cold. "Then you're of no use."
He casually waved his hand. A streak of black light flashed through the darkness.
Pu!
Yang Li's head separated from his shoulders.
"Father?"
Yang Bei stood frozen. For a moment, his young mind could not comprehend what had happened. His father had been standing there only an instant earlier. The man who had promised to teach him cultivation, the man who had carried him on his shoulders through the festival, now lay motionless on the ground.
"LI!"
His mother screamed and lunged toward her husband. Cai Heng raised another finger.
Pu!
Her body fell beside Yang Li's.
Blood spread across the ground. Yang Bei stared, his mouth opening without a sound emerging. He looked at his father, then his mother, then the red ribbon around his wrist.
The world seemed to lose all color.
Cai Heng frowned. "Search the residence."
Several subordinates immediately entered the house. A short while later, one returned.
"Elder Cai, there's nothing."
Cai Heng's expression darkened. "Impossible. The information couldn't have been wrong."
His gaze shifted toward Yang Bei. The boy was kneeling beside his parents, completely unresponsive. Cai Heng studied him for a moment.
"Take him."
A subordinate hesitated. "Elder, he's only a child."
"Then he should be easier to question."
Cai Heng turned away.
"Bring him back alive."
And just like that, Yang Bei's childhood came to an end.
Present day.
Bang!
The golden whip struck the ground beside Yang Bei. Stone fragments scattered in every direction. The woman frowned. She had deliberately missed, but the boy hadn't even flinched.
"Yang Bei, this is your final chance."
He slowly opened his eyes. His expression remained unchanged.
The woman was about to speak again when—
BOOM!
A deafening explosion shook the prison. The walls trembled violently, and dust fell from the ceiling. The woman staggered backward, her crimson eyes widening in alarm.
"What happened?"
Another explosion sounded. This time, it was accompanied by the unmistakable clash of spiritual energy.
Rumble!
A terrifying sword intent swept across the prison. The woman's expression changed drastically.
"Such powerful sword intent..."
A voice rang out from somewhere beyond the chamber.
"Hahaha! You Cai bastards really know how to hide yourselves!"
The woman's face turned pale.
"Impossible..."
Without another word, she disappeared into the darkness. Yang Bei remained seated. For several breaths, the prison was silent.
Then—
Crack!
A sword light flashed across the chamber. The reinforced prison door split into two.
A large, round-bellied man stepped through the opening. He wore patched robes, his gray-brown hair was disheveled, and an enormous wine gourd hung from his waist. At first glance, he looked no different from a wandering beggar. However, the faint sword intent surrounding him caused the very air to tremble.
"Hoho! What's this?" The man looked toward Yang Bei. "A little brat?"
He scratched his beard. "Those Cai dung beetles are even more shameless than I thought."
Yang Bei watched him silently. The stranger took a swig from his gourd.
"What's your name, little fellow?"
Yang Bei hesitated. "Yang Bei."
"Yang Bei, huh?" The man nodded. "Not bad."
He glanced at the chains binding the boy. Then he casually flicked his finger.
Clang!
The iron restraints shattered.
Yang Bei's eyes widened. Those chains had been reinforced with formations. No matter how desperately he had struggled over the years, they had never loosened. Yet this man had destroyed them with a single gesture.
"Who are you?" Yang Bei asked.
The man grinned. "Cho Ye."
Yang Bei had never heard the name. But somewhere beyond the prison, a cultivator shouted in terror.
"Sword Master Cho Ye! Retreat! We can't withstand his sword intent!"
Cho Ye clicked his tongue. "Always shouting. Can't an old man enjoy his wine in peace?"
He looked back at Yang Bei. "Come along, little brat. This place is about to collapse."
Before Yang Bei could respond, Cho Ye waved his sleeve. The surrounding scenery distorted. The darkness vanished, and a cool breeze brushed against Yang Bei's face.
He blinked.
They were standing on a grassy hillside. In the distance, enormous mountain peaks pierced the clouds. Birds circled overhead, and sunlight illuminated the forest.
For the first time in six years, Yang Bei saw the sky.
He stared upward. His lips trembled.
Cho Ye watched him without speaking. After a while, the old man reached into his robe and produced two objects. One was a weathered manual. The other was a golden badge engraved with the image of a sword.
"Take these."
Yang Bei instinctively caught them. "Senior, what are they?"
Cho Ye pointed toward the distant mountains. "Beyond that forest lies the Sword Creed Sect. It's a rank-three sect. If you want to become a cultivator, you can try your luck there."
Yang Bei lowered his gaze toward the manual. Its cover was plain and unremarkable.
"What's this technique called?"
Cho Ye smiled mysteriously. "Open it and see."
Yang Bei carefully turned to the first page. Only a single character had been written there.
Kill.
The character was ordinary in appearance. Yet the moment Yang Bei looked at it, a piercing sensation spread through his mind. For an instant, he seemed to hear countless swords clashing against one another.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
He hurriedly closed the manual. Cho Ye's eyes flickered with interest.
"You can actually withstand looking at it?"
Yang Bei looked up. "What is this?"
"Something useful, if you survive learning it."
Cho Ye took another drink. "That manual has seven levels. If you manage to cultivate it to the seventh level, come find me at Sword Mountain."
He paused.
"When that time comes, I'll consider accepting you as my direct disciple."
Yang Bei tightened his grip on the manual. "Senior, why are you helping me?"
Cho Ye looked at him. For a moment, the old man's carefree expression disappeared. Then he laughed.
"Who knows? Maybe I just dislike the Cai family."
He turned away. "Remember, little brat. A sword is only as dangerous as the person holding it."
His figure began to fade.
"And don't lose that badge."
Whoosh!
Cho Ye vanished.
Yang Bei stood alone on the hillside. For a long time, he did not move. Then he slowly lowered himself to the ground.
The warmth of the sunlight felt unfamiliar. The grass beneath his fingers was soft, and he could hear birds singing in the distance. Everything seemed unreal.
He was free.
After six years of darkness, he was finally free.
Yang Bei looked at the manual in his hands. Then he thought of his parents. His father's laughter. His mother's gentle smile. The red ribbon she had tied around his wrist.
He lowered his head.
"Father... Mother..." His voice trembled. "This son is still alive."
Tears finally rolled down his cheeks. He had not cried when they tortured him. He had not cried when they threatened to kill him. But now, sitting beneath the open sky, he could no longer restrain himself.
After a long time, he wiped his face. His eyes gradually became firm.
"I swear..."
He looked toward the distant horizon.
"One day, I'll make the Cai family pay for everything they've done."
His voice was quiet. There was no one around to hear him. Yet he spoke each word with absolute clarity.
"I'll become strong enough that none of them can escape."
Yang Bei stood. He tucked the manual into his torn robes and placed the golden badge beside it. Then he began walking toward the forest.
He did not know how to cultivate. He did not know where the Sword Creed Sect was located, and he had no idea what kind of person Sword Master Cho Ye truly was.
But he had survived.
For now, that was enough.