The grand hall of the IronLord's mansion had never been this quiet. The silence was not merely absence of sound—it was a crushing, suffocating thing, like the pressure of deep water on lungs gasping for air. Every heartbeat echoed like a drum. Every breath felt stolen.
Wang Tang stood in the center of the hall, his small figure dwarfed by the towering marble pillars, the gleaming chandeliers above, and the soldiers who now entered under his father's orders.
Wang Ju, IronLord of the Earth District, had spoken only one word: "Enough."
Now, that single word rippled into an unstoppable wave.
Guards in earth-brown armor entered the hall, their boots pounding in synchrony against the polished floor. Their presence was cold and impersonal, like an executioner's axe. Their armor bore the sigil of the Earth District—an iron fist clenched over a mountain range—polished and unforgiving.
Wang Ju remained standing before the throne, back straight, arms behind his back. He didn't need to raise his voice. When he spoke, the weight of his authority filled the entire hall.
"From this moment onward," he said, his tone unwavering, "all venomous and aggressive beasts under Wang Tang's possession are to be killed without exception."
Gasps sounded from the hall's edges. The guards blinked. A few hesitated.
But Wang Ju raised one hand, and the hesitation vanished.
"The rest," he continued, "every last animal and plant—regardless of danger—is to be removed from his chambers. Release them into the Dark District. Not a single specimen is to remain under this roof."
The command crashed into Wang Tang's heart like a hammer.
He blinked.
Stared at the ground.
Did he hear that correctly? Was he dreaming? Had he fallen asleep in the garden again?
But no…
He heard Lady Ren's faint, satisfied sigh. He caught the sly smirk of Wang Lu from the corner of his vision.
This was real.
Wang Tang's breath caught. His eyes blurred. For a moment, he thought he might be sick.
Every animal. Every plant. Every living thing in his care was being taken. Not just taken—some would be killed, and the rest exiled into a hostile, unknown land.
His hands trembled at his sides. He didn't even realize he was crying until he saw it—
a tear falling onto the marble.
Then another.
And another.
He wasn't crying loudly. There was no sound. Just the soft patter of grief, falling drop by drop, onto the floor.
He had no words. His voice had been taken from him. And now, so too would everything else.
Why?
These creatures weren't just pets. They were the only beings who accepted him. They didn't ask who his mother was. They didn't compare him to Wang Lu. They didn't care whether he would become the next IronLord or not.
They had names.
The winged serpent he'd raised from a fragile egg. The glow-worms that danced to his humming. The whispering orchids that bloomed only when spoken to kindly.
They had souls.
And now—
Extinguished. Forgotten. Thrown away.
Wang Ju turned to him. His eyes—once soft, long ago when Wang Tang had been small—were now as sharp and unreadable as obsidian.
"From tomorrow onward," he said coldly, "you will attend strategy, swordsmanship, and basic magic training at the inner citadel. Attendance is compulsory. I will hear no more complaints."
His tone was final.
Wang Tang looked up then—really looked—and for a moment, something within him twisted violently.
His father's face, once a figure of strength, now appeared so distant, so unreachable.
No compassion.
No regret.
Just orders.
And then, he turned and walked away.
Lady Ren followed, eyes glittering with triumph. Her expensive robes trailed elegantly behind her like a snake's tail.
Wang Lu hesitated at the edge of the room. He glanced over his shoulder at Wang Tang, smirking with that cruel tilt of his lips that Wang Tang had come to know all too well. Then, with a chuckle under his breath, he turned and followed.
The hall emptied.
The soldiers filed out next, their faces unreadable. Wang Tang was left alone—surrounded only by blood, shadows, and the distant echoes of bootsteps fading into silence.
He didn't move.
He couldn't.
His legs trembled.
He dropped to his knees.
The cool marble pressed into his skin, but he felt nothing.
Nothing except the pain growing in his chest. It wasn't just grief. It wasn't even rage.
It was emptiness.
He had done nothing wrong.
He had nurtured life. Loved it. Protected it.
And now…
It was all gone.
He stared down at the floor, struggling to breathe. His chest rose and fell with short, sharp gasps.
He clenched his fists again, harder this time.
What was left?
His mother was gone.
His father had abandoned him.
His creatures—his family—were being slaughtered.
He was just ten.
Ten, and already…
broken.
His thoughts spiraled. Images of the animals being dragged from his room, yelping, screeching. The orchids wilting as they were uprooted. His own tears staining his pillow.
"Why…?" he whispered.
But there was no answer.
Only silence.
He curled forward, forehead resting against the floor.
Maybe it would be easier to disappear. To run. To become nothing.
He closed his eyes.
Then—
A sound.
Soft.
Faint.
A voice.
It's was the voice he had heard for several years now it was the voice of an old man he knew very well.
"You're not done yet."
Those words were like a gift from God at this moment for Wang Tang he looked up and saw the old man who taught him everything.
The moment he saw old man Hui Wang Tang cried in his arms and was thankful that someone was still by his side.
He has lost everything today all this pets his bonds his friends moreover his family.
Wang Tang cried till he collapsed and was taken to his room by some guards and didn't leave his room for a whole month he was shattered but after a month he decided to become very strong so that nothing like this every happens to him again.