The Invincible Young Master

His breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps as he reached the edge of the forest.

Above the treetops, thick black smoke coiled into the sky like a serpent, blocking out the sun and casting a heavy shadow over the land. His heart pounded against his ribs, each beat reverberating with growing dread.

He didn't stop. He ran with urgency.

The acrid scent of burning wood stung his nose, mingling with something far worse, a metallic tang that turned his stomach.

Breaking through the tree line, he stumbled into the open, his eyes widening in horror as the village came into view.

Everything was ablaze.

Flames leaped from rooftops, devouring homes and casting flickering shadows across the scorched ground. Entire buildings collapsed under the weight of the fire, their wooden beams snapping with sharp, agonizing cracks.

The air was thick with heat and smoke, clawing at his throat with every breath.

Bodies were scattered across the ground, lifeless and charred beyond recognition. Yet, even in their burned state, he knew them. He knew them all.

These were the people who had raised him after his father's death, the ones who had welcomed him with warm smiles and hopeful words when he returned.

The same villagers who had asked him about the girl.

Now, that hope was nothing but ash.

The sight burned itself into his memory, an image he knew would haunt him forever.

A strangled sound tore from his throat as he stumbled forward, his legs trembling.

He couldn't stop looking, even as the sight burned itself into his memory.

Movement caught his eye, a faint, trembling motion among the wreckage. His heart leaped.

Rushing toward it, he found a figure slumped on the ground, their skin blackened and peeling.

They barely clung to life, their breaths shallow and labored. He dropped to his knees, carefully lifting the figure into his arms.

"It's me," he said, his voice trembling as he cradled the villager against his chest. "Don't speak; save your strength. I'll get help."

The villager's cracked lips moved, but no sound came. He leaned closer, his ear hovering near their mouth.

"Imm…ortals…" the person uttered, their voice barely audible. Their breath hitched once, then stilled.

The boy froze, his arms tightening around the lifeless body. He sat there, unmoving, the world around him reduced to silence.

A deep, consuming fury boiled within him, rising with every passing second. His hands shook as he gently lowered the villager's body to the ground, his jaw clenching tight.

These people, they had been his family. After losing his father, they had been his anchors, the ones who gave him a reason to keep going.

Enjoy more content from empire

And now, they were gone.

"Whoever they are, they'll pay," He whispered, his voice low and unfamiliar even to his own ears.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

A deafening explosion suddenly ripped through the air, the ground beneath him trembling as the sound of destruction tore him from his thoughts.

Not far from there, a massive plume of fire erupted, consuming yet another part of the village.

His fists clenched tighter, his nails biting into his palms. He turned back to the lifeless figure beside him, his hand resting briefly on their shoulder before rising to his feet.

Without another thought, he ran in that direction.

The air grew hotter as he approached, the smoke thicker, but he didn't slow down. The rage burning within him was hotter than any flame.

His senses were overwhelmed the moment he arrived in the area. The acrid stench of burning flesh stung his nose, and the screams of the dying entered his ears.

Everywhere he turned, the flames consumed what little remained of the homes and lives that once thrived here. Villagers thrashed on the ground, their bodies engulfed in fire, their faces frozen in pain and terror.

Then he saw them.

High above the carnage, a group of figures floated effortlessly in the air. Their postures were relaxed, as if they were spectators at some cruel spectacle.`

Their expressions carried an air of amusement, cold and detached, as they watched the chaos unfold below.

Rage boiled within him, his body trembling as he locked eyes on them.

"Stop!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the roar of flames and the screams of the dying.

The figures all turned toward him at once, their attention now fixed on the lone boy standing amidst the destruction.

"There you are," one of the men said, his voice carrying a mocking tone. He wore the robes of the school, the emblem on his chest gleaming in the firelight. "We thought you'd keep hiding forever."

His heart raced as his gaze darted between them. He recognized their faces, each one etched into his memory. These were the men from the school.

"Why?" His voice trembled, though fury filled every word. "Why are you killing mortals? The ascendant teachings forbid harming the innocent!"

One of the men sneered, folding his arms. "Mortals exist to serve the strong. Their lives are ours to decide."

The elder of the group stepped forward, his long, flowing beard framing eyes as cold as steel. He raised a hand to silence the others.

"Don't kill him," he commanded, his voice sharp and authoritative. "Not yet. We need to know how he survived the beast…"

His gaze darkened. "…and how he's regained strength."

Another man smirked, raising his hand. A bow of shimmering energy formed in his grip, its glow casting eerie shadows across his face.

Without a word, he drew the string back and loosed an arrow aimed straight at the boy's legs.

The boy's breath caught as the arrow streaked toward him, its speed blinding. He was too weak, too slow to dodge.

But just as the arrow neared him, it suddenly disintegrated mid-flight, breaking apart into wisps of mist before vanishing entirely.

The attacker froze, his smirk replaced by confusion. He narrowed his eyes, thinking it was a fluke, and fired another arrow.

Once again, it dissolved before reaching the boy.

"What…?" the man muttered, his disbelief evident.

Frustration overtook him, and he unleashed a barrage of arrows, each one cutting through the air like a falling star. The deadly rain of energy streaked toward the boy, but every attack met the same fate, dissolving into a harmless mist before it could touch him.

The other figures exchanged bewildered glances, their arrogance cracking under the inexplicable sight before them.

"How is this possible?" one of them murmured.

"He must have some kind of treasure protecting him," said the elder. "Everyone attack at once."

Then they all rained down attack on the defenseless boy. But it was all vain, as their attacks too disappeared into the mist of energy.

The boy stood frozen.

He did not understand it either. Those attacks should have killed him, his crippled body was no match for such power. Yet, here he was, unscathed. It was as if something unseen had shielded him.

He looked down at his trembling hands. A faint warmth radiated from within him, a sensation unlike anything he had ever felt before. Could it be the deity's core?

The barrage continued, energy arrows streaking toward him with relentless fury. Then, without thinking, he raised his arm.

Something incredible happened.

The incoming attacks froze midair, suspended as if held by invisible chains. The fiery arrows quivered, their energy flickering as they hovered in place.

His eyes widened. He could feel it, a connection to the energy around him. It was as though the energy itself waited for his command.

He hesitated, then tentatively waved his hand forward.

The suspended arrows shifted, their tips turning toward the figures in the air.

With a single motion from him, they surged back toward their origin.

The men above scrambled, erecting barriers of light to shield themselves.

The redirected attacks slammed into the barriers, sending shockwaves rippling through the air.

The sound of crackling energy echoed like thunder as their defenses strained under the onslaught.