Surrounded by trees and wilderness, a small village was established. It was filled with people of all ages. The adults went about their daily routines and worked hard, while the kids played and enjoyed themselves. There were a few guards around, but they looked lazy and unbothered. This village looked and was the picture of peace—an ideal village with no apparent problems.
Inside a small inn, three people were gathered. One man sat on the bed, while the woman sat on a chair beside him. The last man stared out the window with cold eyes. Xaidon and Skylar looked at Peter with worry. When they first arrived in the village, Peter asked them to hide their presence. He told them to rent an inn and only take one room. Ever since they had been in this room, he hadn't spoken and just looked out the window.
Xaidon chose not to speak for a long time because he thought maybe it was the emotions of returning home that affected Peter, but now he was unsure. "Peter, what is going on here?"
Peter remained quiet for a while, then turned from the window and sighed. "Sorry, you two, for making you worry." He paused, as if deciding whether to continue. After some time, he spoke again:
"I did not tell you the full truth on the day we escaped that hell five years ago."
Skylar and Xaidon looked at each other, then back at Peter. Peter continued. "This village doesn't have a chief or a leader to oversee everything. The guards enforce the laws here, but even they have limits. The truth is, this village belongs to the Kin Clan. They own it, which is why bandits and troublemakers avoid it. The village also pays taxes for protection."
His gaze turned cold as he looked at his friends, his voice full of ruthlessness. "They give away kids to the Clan to be used as slaves. And I was one of those kids."
The room went quiet—no one spoke, unable to find words. Peter pressed on. "The worst part was that when I discovered I could do magic and told my parents, I thought they'd protect or support me, but instead, they traded me off."
"They used me to avoid taxes for three decades. I was betrayed by my own family at a young age. I was treated like an object for their benefit. The worst part was that when I was taken away, I expected at least some sadness. But no—they looked like they had found gold. A mountain of it. I don't know how or why I managed to escape, but I knew I would soon burn this place to the ground. Everyone would die—men, women, children, the elderly—everyone who smiled and cheered as I was taken away."
He stood as the sun set and the moon rose. Looking at his friends, he said with a cold voice, "This is the favor I asked you for, Xaidon, all those years ago. Help me burn this place down, and I promise—you will always have my support."
He was about to walk out when he heard a voice. "Why do you need my help?" Xaidon was now standing. "The guards are no problem. None of them know how to use Qi, and even if they do, none are Elites with high combat skills."
Peter stared at Xaidon for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Am I supposed to be afraid?" he asked, pausing to look at him. "Why would I be? I'm in my own house."
A woman joined them, curious. She stared at Peter, then her eyes widened in shock. She instantly fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face.
Peter watched her with disgust, then said, "Well, looks like someone recognizes me."
The man looked at his wife, then back at Peter. He tried to speak with a shaky voice, but suddenly, the entire house burst into flames. Moments later, Peter walked out. People gathered around the burning house as he stared at them and burst into laughter.
————-
In a cave far from the burning village, three people sat around a fire. Peter glanced at his two friends from time to time, silent. After a while, Xaidon sighed. "I am definitely going to regret this."
He muttered under his breath, then looked at his friends. "Here's another secret to spice things up. I am the son of the past Emperor."