On the planet Aberon, power was the only law.
Without strength, one would be devoured.
Weakness was considered a sin.
In this world, cultivation determined everything—status, wealth, authority, and even the right to live.
Those without power were nothing.
Far from the great kingdoms and towering sects, beneath the pale glow of the Glaze Moon, stood a quiet settlement.
Glaze Moon Village.
It was small.
Peaceful.
Almost forgotten by the outside world.
And within this quiet village lived a boy named Saltraf.
He was twelve years old.
Tall for his age, though his body was thin, almost fragile.
His dark hair fell messily across his forehead, giving him a slightly wild appearance.
But people rarely noticed his hair first.
They noticed his eyes.
Dark.
Deep.
Strangely bright.
Like galaxies hiding secrets far older than the boy himself.
The couple who raised him had found him as a baby beside a river.
No one knew where he came from.
No one knew who his real parents were.
Even a fool could see Saltraf looked nothing like the villagers who adopted him.
But to him, that didn't matter.
They were his family.
And he loved them dearly.
That morning had begun peacefully.
Silver mist floated over the rooftops of the village.
The lake beside the settlement reflected the pale light of the Glaze Moon like a sheet of glass.
Villagers slowly emerged from their homes.
Some carried farming tools.
Others prepared fishing nets.
Children laughed as they ran along the dirt roads.
It was an ordinary morning.
Quiet.
Calm.
Safe.
Until—
THUNDER.
The sound of hooves shattered the silence.
Dozens of armored riders stormed into the village.
Dust exploded into the air.
Horses screamed as they came to a violent halt.
At the front rode a towering man clad in black armor.
General Leon.
His warhorse pawed aggressively at the ground while soldiers lined up behind him.
Leon was broad-shouldered and battle-scarred.
His presence alone radiated terrifying authority.
But what truly frightened the villagers was the faint crimson glow pulsing beneath his armor.
A symbol burned across his chest.
The Beast Mark.
Each breath he took caused the mark to flicker like a sleeping monster beneath his ribs.
His cold eyes swept across the village.
"Search every house," he commanded.
His voice was deep and merciless.
"The assassin is here."
The soldiers immediately dismounted.
Doors were kicked open.
Homes were ransacked.
Villagers shouted in panic.
Children cried.
Fear spread like wildfire.
Saltraf stood near the village road, gripping his mother's hand tightly.
His heart pounded.
He had never seen soldiers before.
Never seen power like this.
Even from a distance, the aura surrounding General Leon felt suffocating.
Like standing beneath a collapsing mountain.
Saltraf's fingers trembled as he stared.
Were the stories true?
Were cultivators really this powerful?
Then suddenly—
someone stepped forward.
A lone man emerged from the shadows between two houses.
He wore simple clothes.
No armor.
No weapon.
Yet the air around him felt… wrong.
Predatory.
Like a hunter calmly observing prey.
General Leon immediately noticed him.
His eyes sharpened.
"So," Leon said coldly.
"You're the assassin we came for."
The stranger tilted his head slightly.
His voice was calm.
Almost amused.
"So the kingdom sends even a general."
The Beast Mark beneath Leon's armor flared violently.
A terrifying wave of power erupted outward.
The ground cracked.
Dust shot into the sky.
Nearby villagers collapsed under the pressure.
This was the aura of a true cultivator.
The Zeroth Dominion Realm.
A level of power capable of crushing ordinary humans without lifting a finger.
Saltraf's legs trembled uncontrollably.
His mind screamed at him to run.
But he couldn't move.
His eyes were locked on the two men standing in the center of the village.
Legendary warriors.
Standing right here.
In his home.
"Capture him!" Leon roared.
The soldiers surged forward.
Blades flashed in the morning light.
Dozens of warriors charged the lone stranger.
But the man didn't move.
He simply raised one hand.
Slowly.
Calmly.
And then—
space twisted.
A dark ripple spread outward.
Silent.
Unnatural.
The first soldier lunged forward with his sword.
He never reached his target.
BOOM.
An invisible force exploded from the stranger's palm.
The soldier flew backward like a broken puppet.
Bones shattered.
His body slammed into the dirt.
Dead before he could scream.
The battlefield froze.
Soldiers stopped mid-step.
Villagers gasped.
Even General Leon's expression changed.
His eyes narrowed.
"Peak… Zeroth Dominion Realm."
The stranger stepped forward.
Air bent around him.
Pressure crushed everything nearby.
Several soldiers collapsed instantly.
Their bodies twisted unnaturally against the ground.
Leon's grip tightened around his sword.
This opponent…
was dangerous.
Behind a wooden fence at the edge of the road, Saltraf watched everything unfold.
His heart pounded violently.
His mother pulled him behind her protectively.
"Don't look," she whispered.
But Saltraf couldn't stop.
His eyes remained fixed on the stranger.
And for a brief moment—
the stranger looked back.
Their gazes met.
Something stirred deep within Saltraf's chest.
A faint pulse.
Like a distant heartbeat.
Ancient.
Forgotten.
The stranger's eyes narrowed slightly.
Almost as if he sensed something.
But the moment passed.
He turned back toward the soldiers.
And raised his hand again.
Saltraf didn't know why…
But a terrible feeling suddenly filled his chest.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
The man standing in the center of the village…
was not just an assassin.
He was something far worse.
And in the next moment—
the massacre began.