The village of Qingfeng lay shrouded in morning mist, its narrow streets silent except for the distant crowing of a rooster. Liang Feng, barely nineteen, wiped sweat from his brow as he trained with a wooden staff in the courtyard. Each strike was precise, each movement flowing like water—but his eyes, dark and calculating, betrayed a storm within.
He had always known he was different. While other youths wasted their days in trivial games, Liang Feng's blood burned with a hunger for strength—a hunger that had only grown stronger since the day the Blood Warlord clans had descended upon Qingfeng.
"Liang Feng! Stop fooling around!" shouted Old Wang, the village blacksmith, from the forge. "Your arms will cramp before you even pick up a real sword!"
Liang Feng smirked but said nothing. Words were useless; only power mattered.
Then, a scream shattered the morning calm. It was guttural, primal—a sound no mortal should hear. Birds took flight, scattering into the gray sky. Liang Feng's eyes snapped toward the village entrance. A line of black smoke twisted into the sky, carrying with it the stench of burning wood.
"They're here…" he muttered, the words barely audible.
The Blood Warlords had arrived.
Men clad in black armor, faces hidden beneath jagged helmets, poured into the village like a flood of death. Their swords gleamed with crimson-stained edges. Liang Feng dropped his staff, his fingers brushing the hilt of a hidden dagger at his waist. He had been preparing for this moment his entire life, though he did not yet realize it.
"Protect the villagers!" Old Wang bellowed, but his voice was swallowed by the roar of chaos.
The first scream came from the south street—a woman, cornered by three soldiers. Liang Feng's Blood Qi stirred, a fire coursing through his veins. His vision sharpened. Every movement of the enemy slowed, every footstep, every swing of steel.
With a single leap, he landed between the woman and her attackers. His dagger moved faster than the eye could follow. One soldier's throat split with a sickening snap; another crumpled as his blade met Liang Feng's forearm, drawing blood—but Liang Feng didn't falter. The third soldier's scream echoed as Liang Feng's dagger sank into his chest, piercing heart and lung. Blood sprayed, and Liang Feng inhaled deeply. The taste of fear, the rush of life extinguished—it invigorated him.
"Liang Feng!" Old Wang shouted again, pointing toward the village square. "Your family—!"
Liang Feng froze.
Through the smoke, he saw the manor ablaze. Flames licked the sky, consuming the home of the Liang family. And there, in the courtyard, stood the warlord himself—a towering figure, eyes burning like coals, a grin cruel enough to freeze the soul.
"Liang Feng… your bloodline… I've waited a long time for this," the warlord growled, stepping forward.
Something deep within Liang Feng snapped. Rage. Loss. Pain. The world had shown him its cruelty, and he would respond in kind. His Blood Qi flared violently, a red aura swirling around his body, scorching the earth beneath his feet.
In a blur, he moved. Steel clashed, sparks flew, and screams filled the air. Liang Feng fought like a beast possessed, his strikes brutal and merciless. Limbs broke, armor shattered, and the ground was slick with blood.
But it was too late. The warlord's men were too many, their strength overwhelming. Liang Feng's vision blurred with smoke and blood. Old Wang fell beside him, crimson staining his apron, a final curse on his lips.
Liang Feng's knees buckled as the warlord approached, sword raised. The young cultivator's vision darkened, but a single thought pierced the haze: I will rise. I will be stronger. I will make them pay.
The warlord's blade descended.
A crimson aura surged once more from Liang Feng's chest, and the world seemed to freeze. Pain and power mingled, forging a new path in the boy's soul.
When the smoke cleared, the village lay in ruins. Bodies, broken and lifeless, littered the streets. But Liang Feng… he was still alive. Gasping, trembling, soaked in blood—his eyes glowed faintly red, a mark of a power no mortal had yet seen.
From the ashes, a vow was born.
"Blood will answer blood… and I will become unstoppable."
The journey of Liang Feng, the boy with the Blood Qi, had begun.