The snow fell in heavy, suffocating silence. Xue Lian gritted her teeth, her entire body shaking, torn between two impossible choices.
She was about to rush toward the rubble, to dig through the wreckage, to pull her son from beneath the ruins—
But then, she felt it.
An aura.
A Rank 2 cultivator.
Near. Too near.
She had seconds.
Seconds to decide.
Try to save Han Yu… or run.
And then—she heard him.
Muffled beneath the crushing weight of wood and stone, Han Yu's voice reached her. A broken, pained sound, filled with agony.
Through a narrow gap in the rubble, his eyes met hers.
Tears streaked his dirt-covered face. He was in pain. He was afraid. He was still just a boy.
And yet—
She turned away.
Tears fell freely from her own eyes, but her legs moved. She gripped Han Yi tighter, her chest burning, her entire soul screaming.
"I'm sorry, Han Yu… I'm so sorry…"
She ran.
She ran, abandoning her son to die.
Han Yi saw it all.
Saw the hesitation in his mother's movements, the lingering gaze—but, in the end, she chose to leave.
A small smile formed on Han Yu's lips.
Not a smile of joy.
A smile of immense pain, of deep, soul-crushing sadness. His vision blurred with tears, but his heart burned.
"I was never as valuable to you as Han Yi, huh?"
The air was cold.
The snow was merciless.
But something inside him was hot.
Burning.
Rage.
Hate.
"I DON'T NEED YOU."
"I DON'T NEED ANY OF YOU!"
"I CAN SURVIVE ON MY OWN! I CAN—AND I WILL!"
He gritted his teeth, body trembling, but the fire in his heart did not waver.
"You always chose her… both you and Father."
His breath was ragged, his body weak, but his mind… his mind was sharper than ever.
"I KNOW YOU LOVED HER MORE. I ALWAYS KNEW."
"FATHER PUT HIS DISCIPLE OVER ME—HIS OWN SON—BEFORE."
"AND I KNOW HE'LL DO IT AGAIN."
He turned his gaze toward the path his mother had taken, the snow stinging his skin, but he didn't feel the cold anymore.
He only felt the fire.
"You picked her over me because of her talent. Her personality. Everything about her was perfect. But to all of you… I was a defect."
"All that bullshit you told others—that mortals should strive, that talent means nothing, that hard work and willpower make a cultivator great—you went against all of it."
"The moment it was me, you denied your own words."
"Your own beliefs."
He let out a shaky breath.
"The moment you look at me, disappointment fills your eyes."
"Pity fills your voice."
"You chose a stranger as your disciple and told me to work hard on my own. You told me I had to prove myself first. But you never made him prove himself, did you, Father?"
The hatred in his heart grew sharper, more refined.
"I hope whoever is attacking us kills you."
"I hope they kill everything you love."
"I hope you watch each other die in the worst torment imaginable."
"And if you survive—so will I."
"And I will make you experience everything I felt."
"The weakness."
"The loneliness."
"A hundred times worse than what I suffered."
Han Yu had nothing left for them.
No love. No forgiveness. No hope.
Only hatred.
Hatred for the family that abandoned him.
Hatred for the father who chose someone else over his own son.
Hatred for the world that never gave him a chance.
He clenched his fists, ignoring the pain, ignoring the rubble pressing down on his body, ignoring the ice biting at his skin.
"No matter how much I begged… he always refused me."
The memory resurfaced—one that had long festered in the darkest parts of his mind.
A day he could never forget.
—
"Father, please!" Han Yu knelt before Han Zhennan, his hands clenched so tightly they bled. "I can work harder! Talent is nothing compared to hard work! Please, don't give him the amulet! I am your son! Isn't it supposed to be passed down only to our bloodline? Why are you giving it to him?! He was a stranger to you just two years ago, but I—I am your own son!"
Han Zhennan's expression darkened. "Enough."
Han Yu flinched, but he refused to back down.
"This is my last chance."
"I can still prove myself."
"If I just—"
"Han Yu, you must understand," Han Zhennan's voice was cold, firm, unwavering. "This is about the future of our family. Our legacy. I cannot give it to you."
A sharp pain stabbed through Han Yu's chest, his breath caught in his throat.
"But why?! Why am I not good enough?! Just because my talent is lower?! What happened to hard work and perseverance?!"
His father sighed, closing his eyes. "Han Yu, you have to accept it. Your talent is not enough for the future of the family. You know our history. I have told you everything. You must understand,your brother is the one who will inherit the amulet not you son."
Han Yu bit his lip. He knew his talent was trash.
His father was Rank 3.
His sister was Rank 4.
And the boy—**the boy his father chose over him—**was also Rank 4.
Han Yu was only Rank 2.
But still… still…
"He isn't my brother!" Han Yu's voice cracked. "You're the one who adopted him! You're the one who made him your disciple! And now you're giving him things you never even considered giving me!"
Han Zhennan's eyes hardened. "Han Yu."
For the first time, Han Yu heard the finality in his voice.
"You have to accept it."
"No."
"I won't."
"I refuse."
A knock on the door.
Han Yu's heart dropped.
"Come in."
The door opened.
A boy entered.
Long black hair. Green eyes that gleamed with talent.
The moment Han Yu saw him, his face twisted.
The boy his father had chosen.
The boy who had stolen everything from him.
Han Zhennan didn't even hesitate.
"Han Yu, you can leave. This matter is over. Do you understand?"
Han Yu opened his mouth. He wanted to fight, to scream, to beg, but—
"Do you understand?"
The words were final.
Unyielding.
Han Yu clenched his fists, his entire body trembling. His chest felt like it would cave in, the weight of betrayal crushing him.
He gritted his teeth.
Swallowed his pain.
"I understand, Father."
He turned and left.
Without looking back.
Without even sparing his adoptive brother a single glance.
That memory came back to Han Yu like another sword piercing his heart, but it only fueled his anger. His voice faded into a whisper beneath the ruins.
"I'll survive."
The cold snow continued to fall, biting at his skin, but the inferno in his heart burned hotter than ever. Hatred, deeper than anything he had ever felt, consumed him.
---
Elsewhere, Han Zhennan was cutting down his enemies without pause. His mind had only one goal—to find his family. Then, through the chaos, his eyes locked onto Han Lei, his disciple, fighting alone against a group of masked individuals.
Without hesitation, Han Zhennan stormed forward, but a Rank 2 enemy intercepted him. He didn't falter. Lightning crackled around him, a furious storm unleashed upon the battlefield.
"Peak-tier battle skill: Lightning Field!"
A hundred-meter radius erupted in electrified devastation, paralyzing and incinerating the weak. But Han Zhennan wasn't done.
"Peak-tier battle skill: Stormbreak Cleave!"
Violent arcs of lightning coiled around his blade, surging with destruction. He swung. Everything in his path—buildings, enemies, even the very ground—was obliterated. More than half the town lay in ruin, the battle raging without end.
His opponent was overwhelmed—nothing could stop Han Zhennan. He tore through everything in his path, his techniques embodying pure destruction.
"Peak-tier battle skill: Lightning Flash!"
A blinding surge of speed erupted from him, his body vanishing like a bolt of lightning. In an instant, he was upon his enemy. A single swing—his blade cut clean through, splitting the Rank 2 cultivator in half. Against Han Zhennan, the man had never stood a chance.
Without hesitation, he turned toward Han Lei, cutting down every enemy surrounding his disciple with ruthless efficiency. Lightning danced wildly in the air, bodies falling like charred husks.
"Han Lei, let's go now! We need to help your mother and siblings!"
"Yes, Father!"
Han Zhennan grabbed Han Lei, and in that moment, a storm of lightning erupted around them—an unspoken warning to all. Any who dared stand in his way would be reduced to nothing but ashes.
One might ask why his disciple bore the Han name. It was given to him after Han Zhennan adopted him, a clear sign that he was seen as both a son and a disciple. The boy had always cherished that—he saw Han Zhennan as his father and the Han family as his own.