Inside the carriage, the world had shrunk into a narrow space of wood and restrained breaths.
At first, everything had been calm.
The rhythmic rattling of the wheels, the gentle sway of the vehicle, and the old man’s steady voice telling stories kept the three children relaxed. Outside, the forest passed by like a green curtain, and nothing hinted at the coming disaster.
Until the howls arrived.
They were distant at first, almost unreal. Then—far too close.
The carriage jolted violently as one of the horses let out a heart-rending scream. The sound was abruptly cut off, followed by a dull impact… and then, chaos.
Shouts. Desperate orders. The clash of metal. The furious roars of beasts.
The children went pale.
The girl, about ten years old, was the first to react. She clutched the old man’s robe with all her strength, her small body trembling uncontrollably. The other two children followed immediately, hiding behind the old man like chicks beneath their father’s wings.
The old man said nothing.
He simply spread his arms, shielding them with his hunched body as his gaze turned grave. Outside, the sounds of battle intensified. The carriage shook every time something heavy struck nearby. Through the wooden walls came savage growls and human screams filled with pain.
When a guard’s cry was suddenly silenced, one of the children began to sob quietly.
Fear grew thick, suffocating.
Then… something strange happened.
The sounds began to change.
They did not vanish at once, but the chaotic noise gave way to dull impacts and terrifying crunches. There was a moment of tense silence, followed by new howls—more furious than before… and then one that resonated with an unnatural force.
The carriage trembled once more.
After that, slowly… everything calmed down.
The silence that followed was even more terrifying.
—A-are they… gone?—the girl whispered, her voice broken.
No one answered.
The old man remained motionless, alert, like an ancient statue listening to the world. Several heartbeats passed before one of the children—the most curious—gathered enough courage. He swallowed, loosened his grip on the old man, and approached one of the small side windows with trembling steps.
He parted the curtain slightly.
And he saw him.
A young man of about fifteen had been launched from his horse like an arrow released from the heavens. His body cut through the air with effortless grace, and the scene seemed to slow before the child’s eyes.
His hair—golden with black streaks—was tied in a ponytail that streamed behind him, and his eyes… his golden eyes shone with an intense, almost sacred light.
In that instant, for the children, fear vanished.
They did not see a cultivator.
They did not see a warrior.
They saw a sun god descending upon the earth.
—G-grandpa…—the boy whispered, unable to look away—T-there’s… someone outside.
The old man slowly approached and looked as well.
And for the first time since the attack began…
his eyes narrowed with a mixture of surprise and profound awe.
What they witnessed next was something they would never forget.
The young man took a single step forward.
He did not shout.
He did not hesitate.
His fist moved.
From the window, the children only saw a flash—and then one of the wolves simply vanished. It wasn’t sent flying, nor was it thrown back. Its body exploded into a cloud of blood and fragments that scattered across the forest floor.
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The children’s eyes widened.
Before they could even process it, the young man was already in motion. His figure crossed the battlefield like a golden shadow, and every time his body paused for a fraction of a second, another wolf fell.
One after another.
Fists. Kicks. A brutal grab that snapped a neck like dry wood.
Five more wolves died without ever understanding what had happened.
—H-he’s… he’s really strong…—one of the children murmured, his voice filled not with fear, but pure admiration.
Then they saw him change targets.
The young man rushed toward the two older men the grandfather had hired as cultivators—just in time. One of them was sent flying by the impact of a massive beast, and the boy caught him midair with an ease that seemed unreal, setting him down safely before he could crash to the ground.
The other was about to die.
The young man appeared between them.
A single strike.
The wolf was forced back.
The children held their breath.
From that point on, everything changed.
The crimson wolf was enormous—savage, terrifying. Each of its movements carried brutal force, and during the first exchanges… the young man was pushed back. His feet slid across the ground as he narrowly evaded claws and fangs capable of tearing steel apart.
—I-is he going to lose…?—the girl whispered, clenching her hands tightly.
Then something decisive happened.
The wolf dodged one of the young man’s punches.
And the young man smiled.
He leapt toward a tree… and tore free a black spear that had been violently embedded in it. The instant his fingers closed around the shaft, the boy’s presence changed completely.
From the window, even the children felt it.
Now…
the one at a disadvantage was the crimson wolf.
The spear danced.
It spun, blocked, struck.
Every time the wolf tried to advance, the steel tip appeared before it like an insurmountable barrier. Crimson blood splattered the ground again and again, and the beast’s roars grew increasingly desperate.
The children were mesmerized.
They had forgotten their fear.
They had forgotten the chaos.
With shining eyes and pounding hearts, they watched the scene as if a legendary tale were unfolding before them.
To them, at that moment, the world held only two things:
A red monster,
and a golden youth.
The children almost screamed with excitement.
Through the small carriage window, they saw the young man gather all his strength into a single blow. His fist surged forward like a sun falling from the heavens and slammed into the crimson wolf’s chest.
A dull thunderous sound rang out.
The massive beast was sent flying, uprooting trees before crashing violently into the ground. The forest trembled. Dust rose in a thick cloud.
For an instant…
everything fell silent.
—He killed it!—one of the children exclaimed, unable to hold back.
The other two exchanged looks, eyes shining, hearts pounding. Even the girl, who had been trembling in fear moments earlier, clenched her fists in excitement. To them, this was the perfect ending. The hero had won.
But then…
the air changed.
At first, it wasn’t a sound or an image, but a sensation. An invisible pressure descended upon the carriage, as if the sky itself had grown heavy. The children struggled to breathe; their bodies tensed as a primitive, inexplicable fear crawled up their spines.
—Behind me!—the old man growled.
His face pale, veins bulging on his neck, he stepped forward. A firm wave of energy surged from his body, enveloping the children. Even so, his legs trembled. Without him, the three would have collapsed instantly.
With difficulty, they looked outside again.
The dust slowly settled.
And then they saw it.
The thing rising no longer resembled a wolf.
Its chest was caved in, twisted in an impossible way, yet it still stood. A foul, viscous energy emanated from its body—dark crimson tainted with black. Its silhouette was grotesque, unnatural, and its eyes burned with absolute madness.
The children did not understand what had happened.
They did not see it attack.
They did not see the movement.
They only saw the result.
The golden-eyed youth was sent flying like a fallen star, his body tracing a violent arc before vanishing among the trees.
The children’s hearts sank.
The carriage fell into absolute silence, broken only by the old man’s ragged breathing… and the inhuman roar of that thing that should no longer be alive.
Panic exploded inside the carriage.
—Again!—one of the children cried, his voice breaking.
Through the window, they saw the young man hurled through the air once more, his body slamming into the ground before rolling several meters. The fear that had barely retreated surged back with greater force, like a dark tide ready to consume them whole.
—H-he’s going to die…—the girl whispered, tears pooling in her eyes.
Terror took hold of them again. Their hands trembled, their bodies instinctively shrank behind the old man, as if that alone could save them from the inevitable.
Then… something happened that none of them expected.
The young man slowly rose to his feet.
Covered in blood, barely supported by his weapon, he smiled.
It was not a gentle or reassuring smile. It was arrogant, confident—almost provocative. A smile that said, without words, that this was not over yet.
The children held their breath.
The young man adopted a firm stance, planting his feet into the ground, his spear held in both hands. He did not move. He did not retreat. He simply… waited.
The grotesque being roared and charged at him with murderous intent that made the air vibrate.
And then, everything exploded.
The children only saw the young man unleash what seemed to be a martial technique. A golden flash—bright and pure—erupted from his position and collided head-on with a mass of twisted, repulsive black energy.
The collision shook the forest.
The light was so intense that the children instinctively closed their eyes.
When they dared to open them again…
The monster had been split in two.
Its body collapsed lifelessly, the dark energy dissipating like smoke in the wind. Silence fell once more, heavy and almost unreal.
For a second, the children were filled with euphoria.
—He won!
—He really won!
But their joy froze in their throats.
They saw the young man slowly lower his gaze to his own body. At his side was a horrific gap—a deep wound from which blood poured uncontrollably, spilling onto the ground like a broken stream.
Even so, the young man let out a low laugh.
An ironic laugh.
—Well…—he murmured, almost to himself.
Then, with that same sarcastic smile still etched on his face, his body lost strength and fell forward.
The golden-eyed youth collapsed, unconscious.
