[Glory City] [The Ying Family Manor]
The morning sun crept over the horizon of the St. Ancestral Mountains, its light spilling over the jagged walls of Glory City like molten gold. To the commoners, this light brought hope—a reminder that the "last bastion of humanity" had survived another night against the endless tides of demon beasts. To Ying Zheng, however, the sun was simply another witness to his presence.
Inside the sprawling, lacquered halls of the Ying Family Manor, a teenager stirred within a bed of silk and fine linen. He looked no older than twelve or thirteen, his frame still lean and youthful. Yet, as his eyes opened, the atmosphere in the room shifted. Those eyes—irises of pure gold—did not belong to a child. They possessed the stillness of a deep ocean and the terrifying weight of a mountain.
This was Ying Zheng. The King Where It All Began.
After purging the intruder's soul, Zheng sat up, feeling the unfamiliar lightness of his new limbs. Along with the body, he had inherited a chaotic storm of memories from the "Dreaming Boy." Among the clutter of strange terms like Internet, Manga, and Anime, one word stood out: Chuunibyou.
He let the word roll around his mind. Apparently, in the boy's world, people pretended to have secret powers and grand destinies. Worse, the boy's memories suggested that Zheng himself—the man who had unified China and stood against the gods—was merely a character in a "fictional" story.
Zheng stared at his hands for exactly three seconds.
He recalled the freezing hunger of his childhood in Zhao. He remembered the metallic scent of blood on the battlefield, the agonizing weight of his mother's death in his arms, and the sheer, physical pressure of Hades' bident.
'One who never doubts... is a King,' he thought, his lips curling into a sharp, dismissive smirk.
He determined the boy's existential crisis to be unimportant. Whether a writer in a distant realm had recorded his life or not mattered little. His pain had been real. His promise to Chun Yan was real. And the Qi now coursing through this new body was undeniably real. If this world was a stage, he would simply rule it as he had ruled the last.
Searching deeper into the "NEET's" memories, Zheng pieced together the circumstances of his arrival. A bored, celestial entity—an "Old Man" the boy called BOB Uchiha—had granted three wishes to a dying soul.
Reincarnation in the world of Tales of Demons and Gods with a prestigious background.
The body and memories of Qin Shi Huang, albeit regressed to age twelve.
A "Female System" to guide his path.
Zheng let out a breath that was half-sigh, half-growl. The boy had desired a "prestigious background," only to be placed in the Ying family—a noble house recently decimated by the Dark Guild. He was the last of his line, a "King" of a ghost house.
But it was the third wish that truly offended him.
[Flashback: The Inner Sanctum of the Soul]
Moments after the NEET's soul had been cast out, a cold, feminine voice had vibrated through Zheng's consciousness.
"I am the Great Sovereign System," the voice had stated, though Zheng sensed a flicker of mechanical hesitation. "I can help you. I will provide you with 'Missions.' By completing them, you will receive 'Rewards'—strength, techniques, and power to reach the peak."
Zheng, standing in the center of his own mind, had simply laughed. It was not a joyous sound; it was the sound of an Emperor encountering a peasant who dared to offer him a loan for his own throne.
"So," Zheng had mused, "you can read my thoughts, yet you fail to understand the man standing before you?"
"I offer you a path to the peak," the System insisted. "Without me, your progress will be slow. This world is filled with those who would kill you. With my help, you can become the God of this world."
Zheng's golden eyes narrowed. "You speak of 'Missions.' You speak of 'Rewards.' You are a master providing scraps to a dog. Tell me, machine... do you truly believe I need a leash to find my way to the top?"
"It is the most efficient path—"
"Efficiency is the concern of servants," Zheng interrupted, his presence expanding until the mental space trembled. "It matters not what this world is. You are in the presence of an Emperor. I do not follow paths; I create them. I do not earn rewards; I take what is mine by right of conquest."
The System's voice flickered, sounding genuinely frightened for the first time. "But... without the System, the host's 'Status' will—"
"I am the First Emperor," Zheng roared, his will manifesting as a golden dragon that coiled around the flickering light of the System. "I have no Master! Not in life, not in the afterlife, and certainly not in this one!"
With a single, crushing thought, he shattered the consciousness of the System. He didn't just deactivate it; he dismantled its ego, absorbing the raw data while discarding the "Master" that controlled it. He would keep the tools, but the voice was silenced forever.
[Present Day]
Zheng stood and walked toward a polished bronze mirror. He ignored the strange text that flickered in the corner of his vision—a remnant of the System's data:
[Mirror - A reflective surface (Human-Rank)]
"A mirror that ranks itself," he murmured. "Bizarre."
He studied his reflection. He was younger, yes. His skin was unblemished, his muscles lacked the scars of a thousand battles, but the face was his. The Golden Dragon Emperor.
'Status,' he thought, curious to see how this world's laws perceived his existence.
[Character Status] Name: Ying Zheng Titles: Qin Shi Huang, The King Where It All Began, King of Men, God-Slayer... Bloodline: Golden Dragon Emperor (Dormant) Demon Spiritualist Realm: Human (Soul Force: 98) Fighter Realm: Bronze 4-star Rank Cultivation Technique: None Soul Attribute: Unidentified Soul Form: Unidentified Martial Arts: Chi You (Emperor-Rank)
Unique Skill: Mirror Touch Synesthesia
Sense the pain of others.
Sense energy flow/Qi.
Sense the weight of a soul.
[Locked]
[Locked]
He clicked his tongue. "Bronze 4-star. Weak. In the afterlife, I stood against the King of the Netherworld. Here, I am a child in a manor."
Yet, the "Golden Dragon Emperor" bloodline was intriguing. It felt ancient, humming in his veins with a familiar authority. And his soul force... 98. He was a hair's breadth away from being a 1-star Bronze Demon Spiritualist without even trying.
A soft knock at the door broke his concentration.
"Young Master? Are you awake?"
The door creaked open, and a young woman in a neatly pressed maid's outfit entered. This was Ann. In the boy's memories, she was a loyal servant who had cared for him since his parents' assassination. Behind her stood a tall, broad-shouldered man with a stoic expression and a heavy blade strapped to his back. This was Zhao, a 1-star Black Gold Rank fighter.
In the hierarchy of Glory City, a Black Gold fighter was a powerhouse—a protector of the people.
"Young Master Ying," Zhao said, bowing deeply. "You slept longer than usual. The City Lord's messengers have already inquired about your health three times this morning."
Zheng turned away from the mirror, his golden eyes settling on the guard. The sheer weight of the gaze made Zhao's breath hitch. The guard felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to drop to one knee.
"Zhao," Zheng said, his voice calm yet carrying the cadence of a command. "Tell me... who is the City Lord that he feels the need to 'inquire' so often?"
Zhao blinked, confused by the tone. "The City Lord, Ye Zong, is the protector of us all, Young Master. Since your parents passed... he has taken a personal interest in the Ying family's safety. He believes that as the last descendant, you are under his protection."
Zheng walked to the window, looking out at the sprawling manor that felt more like a cage than a home. "Protection," he repeated, a cold smile touching his lips. "He seeks to annex my family's holdings through 'gratitude.' He sees a weak orphan. He sees a family with no strength, no future."
"Young Master!" Ann gasped, her hands trembling as she held a tray of tea. "The City Lord is a good man! He only wants—"
"He wants to ensure the Ying family's legacy doesn't fall into the wrong hands," Zheng finished for her, turning back to face them. "But he fails to realize one thing. The Ying family is not 'falling.' It is merely beginning."
He walked up to Zhao, who stood nearly two heads taller than him. Despite the height difference, it was Zhao who looked small.
"You are a 1-star Black Gold fighter," Zheng noted, his Mirror Touch Synesthesia picking up the old wounds and the steady hum of energy in Zhao's body. "You protect me because of a debt to my parents. I respect loyalty, Zhao. But know this... I have no need for a guardian. I have a need for soldiers."
Zhao's eyes widened. He felt a chill run down his spine. The boy standing before him wasn't the fragile, grieving heir he had protected for the last few months. This was a predator. No... this was a Sovereign.
"Young Master... your words..." Zhao stammered.
"Are the words of your King," Zheng stated. He looked at the Status screen floating in the air, then back at the sun rising over Glory City.
The Dark Guild had killed his "parents" in this world. The City Lord wanted to "protect" him into obscurity. The noble families likely saw him as a chess piece to be moved.
They all made the same mistake. They looked at the twelve-year-old body and forgot to look at the soul.
"Ann," Zheng said, gesturing to the tea. "Pour. I have a city to understand and a world to conquer. I cannot do it on an empty stomach."
As Ann hurriedly served the tea, her hands shaking, Zheng sat down with the poise of a man who had spent centuries on a throne. Glory City was the last hope of humanity, trapped behind walls and terrified of the dark.
Qin Shi Huang had never liked walls. He preferred empires.
"Zhao," Zheng said between sips of tea. "Prepare the training grounds. After breakfast, you will show me exactly what a 'Black Gold' rank is capable of. Do not hold back. If you do, you will find yourself quite embarrassed."
Zhao looked at the small teenager and, for the first time in his life, felt a genuine flicker of fear. "Yes... My Lord."
Zheng smiled. It was a beautiful, terrifying sight.
"Hao," he whispered. "Let the games begin."
[author]
Hi, the author here, I want to know. How is the novel, good, or bad? Some tips?
It is the first time that I try to write a novel, furthermore in another language.
I really hope that is good, but I know my faults. For example, I perceive that I don't explain many details about the space to contextualize the area.
If you like the idea, please help to write a better novel, and with English too.
[/author]