A dark entity with a celestial white aura resided within the absolute void.
It raised its hand, opened its palm, and then created an unmatched light, resembling peerless power born from boundless energy. The light reflected the shadow of a life—a newborn baby.
The entity stared deeply into the light, then clasped it like a sphere and whispered,
"I choose you..."
With a slight movement, it tore the fabric of reality with just one hand, as if ripping only a thin wall. Beyond the tear, countless realities appeared, each representing a different life. As the tear opened, a fracture began to creep throughout the entire domain of reality.
At the very same moment, in the village of Faxiliun, a baby was born.
His hair was obsidian black, his eyes pitch-black and deep, his face handsome with fair skin. The baby was named Zeiron.
His mother, Fan'qiu, was a beautiful woman with reddish-brown hair, 179 cm tall, and dark eyes.
His father, Zeryon, was a diligent merchant with black hair, 192 cm tall, handsome, charismatic, and blue-eyed.
They lived in poverty.
Zeryon traded wheat and livestock, while Fan'qiu cared for their simple home. Despite their lack of means, little Zeiron never complained.
Zeiron was constantly insulted, ostracized, belittled, and beaten by his peers. "Look, a lowly brat wants to pass!" "Wanna pass here? Pay first!" "You pauper!" "Go far away! Don't stain my clothes!" "Hahaha! Bastard!"
At the age of 14, Zeiron followed his father to the capital city of Fan'Nize to help with the trade.
However, in the capital's market, they became the object of ridicule for the noble students.
"Hahaha! Look at these goods! Low quality, just like the lowly merchant who sells them!"
Zeiron gripped the edge of his father's shirt and whispered,
"None of your business!"
Zeryon merely smiled, though sadness was clearly visible in his eyes. He ruffled his son's hair.
"They're just kidding. Don't mind them."
The market was extremely crowded that day. With his handsomeness and warm smile, Zeryon easily attracted the attention of buyers, especially young women. Wheat, meat, eggs, and even animal hides were sold out, not only because of their quality but also because of his charm.
"Merchant Zeryon, I'll take two more sacks of wheat!" shouted a young woman, blushing.
Zeiron looked at his father with admiration.
"Dad is cool."
Zeryon laughed softly, messing up his son's hair.
"I do everything for you and your mother. As long as I can work, you won't starve."
The day ended with a sense of relief.
All goods were sold, and they decided to go home at night. However, the journey home turned into a nightmare.
A group of bandits blocked the road, swords drawn and fire magic blazing.
"Stop! Hand over all your belongings if you don't want to die!"
Zeiron, who was sleeping in the cart, woke up in a panic.
"Dad! What's happening!"
Zeryon got down from the cart, his body filled with Earth Element magic. Pebbles trembled around him. The battle erupted—steel clashed, spells exploded, fire burned the air, and the ground shook.
An explosion struck the cart. Zeiron was thrown, blood streaming down his temple.
"Zeiron!" cried Zeryon in a panicked voice.
His body was covered in wounds and blood, but Zeryon still tried to protect his son.
"You have to run. Go to the Guild, now!" he urged, gasping for breath.
"No! What about you!" Zeiron shook his head fiercely.
A large bandit attacked Zeiron with a ball of hellfire, throwing Zeiron to the ground.
Zeryon, barely able to stand, knelt down and pleaded.
"Let my son go. Take my life, but let him leave!"
Cruel laughter echoed in the air.
"Hahaha! Look, the handsome merchant is kneeling like a dog!"
With his remaining strength, Zeryon charged at the bandits, yelling with all his might.
"Run, Zeiron! Let your Father hold them off!"
Zeiron ran, filled with sadness, his heart shattered into pieces.
He left his father struggling alone.
When Zeiron returned with the Guild adventurers, his world collapsed.
Zeryon's lifeless body lay on the ground. His left arm was severed, his face disfigured by cruel torture.
Zeiron froze, his cry trapped in his throat.
"Father..." he whispered, his voice barely audible.
That day, Zeiron's world changed forever.
The following days were filled with suffering.
Zeiron, only 14 years old, became the family's backbone.
He worked non-stop, often enduring hunger so his mother and 6-year-old younger sibling could eat. Night fell, and he slept in his father's old cart, his small body exhausted.
And on that quiet night, the dream came.
A dark entity with a white aura emerged from the void, extending its hand.
"What does power mean to you, Zeiron?"
Zeiron looked up, his eyes filled with grief and determination.
"Power... is ability."
He grabbed the entity's hand. Instantly, an strange light enveloped his body.
Zeiron woke up panting. The night felt different, the air vibrating around him. Something was rushing through his veins, like an invisible river of energy.
His hands trembled, his eyes wide open.
"What... what happened to me...?"
The entity's voice echoed, "Don't let your limitations limit your ability. Transcend your limits, and crush them, if you can."
And,
"Kill the old version of yourself, create the new."
Be determined and brave to step forward.
The key to survival lies not only in physical strength, but in the ability to adapt to circumstances and forge a mindset that won't be killed by one's own thoughts.
The world will never glance at someone who is weak. The world will only glance at someone who is strong and brave enough to become the best version of themselves.