The steady scent of medicine filled the room.
Han xing's eyes fluttered open. White walls. The faint hum of formation lamps. He lay in a hospital bed, body bandaged, qi sluggish from battle.
At his side sat Commander Ling. The man's armor was gone, replaced by a plain robe, yet his presence remained as heavy as a mountain. His eyes softened slightly when Han xing stirred.
"You're awake."
Han xing slowly sat up, his crimson eyes calm. "How long was I out?"
"Three days. You were on the edge." Ling studied him. "How do you feel?"
Han xing closed his eyes briefly. "Alive. Nothing more."
The commander leaned back in his chair. "Good. Then I'll ask directly would you like to become my student?"
The air stilled. Han xing's gaze flickered, but he shook his head."Thank you, Commander. But no."
Ling's brows lifted. "Oh? May I ask why?"
Han xing's voice was quiet but resolute. "I came to the border for life and death. To temper myself. If I hide behind your name, I'll never step into the places I need to go."
For a long moment, silence reigned. Then Ling chuckled, a rough sound. "So young, yet so stubborn. Very well. If you refuse, I won't force you. But remember this if you ever reach a bottleneck, or face something you cannot understand, come to me. I will help you."
Han xing inclined his head. "I will remember."
His strength exhausted, his body eased back into the bed. His eyelids grew heavy, and before long, sleep dragged him under again.
Flashback
The sky burned red. Ten years ago.
Aliens and demons tore through the heavens, armies clashing across Earth and the allied worlds. In the chaos of the border, a gap opened. Two monsters slipped through the Defend line Demon Emperor and an alien general from the blood god clan. Ten thousand troops followed, their warships blotting the sky.
The safe zone shattered. Screams filled the air.
Han xing, barely a child, stood frozen as his mother shielded him. Her hands trembled, yet her smile never faltered.
"Run, Han xing!"
But he couldn't move. His eyes burned as he saw her torn apart before him, blood spraying like rain.
"I love you, my son…" Her voice echoed, fading into silence.
The boy screamed—but it was too late. Blades and fire closed in.
Then space itself trembled.
A man descended, eyes like cold steel, his aura shaking heaven and earth. Han xing's father had arrived. Rage ignited his qi, and he roared:
"You dare harm my wife and child?!"
He raised his hand, fingers carving runes into the air. Space twisted, collapsing inward like a black hole.
"Martial Art Space Collapse!"
The void howled. The Demon Emperor's body distorted, crushed by invisible pressure until it shattered into dust. The alien general fled, howling in terror.
But though he killed the enemy, he could not bring back the woman he loved.
He cut a path through the army, rescuing his son from the blood storm.
From that day, the cheerful boy died.
On that battlefield of grief, the seed of the God of Slaughter was born.
Han xing's eyes snapped open. He sat upright in the hospital bed, chest heaving. Cold sweat clung to his skin.
"…A dream," he whispered. "No. A memory."
The steel in his gaze hardened further.
Martial Hall
Days later, once his body had healed, Hanx ing walked into the Martial Hall.
A servant in neat robes hurried to greet him. "Sir, what are you looking for?"
Han xing's eyes swept the shelves. I'm still weak. First, I need martial arts to cover my flaws.
"Where is the martial art library?"
"Second floor, young master."
Han xing climbed the stairs. Rows of qi-sealed manuals lined the shelves. His gaze locked onto three. He pulled them down, reading their titles and descriptions as his heartbeat quickened.
Desolation Fist art – Yellow High Rank.A giant fist than fell from heavens with one strike. Shatter barriers, drain all within reach, strike with ruin itself.
Han xing's fingers tightened on the scroll. A fist that embodies destruction itself. Good dangerous… but to me is like this martial art is made just for me .
Violent Sky Thunder Step – Yellow Mid Rank.Harness qi to move as lightning and cover the body of the users. Each step a thunderclap, each movement a flash of light. To train, one must endure real lightning strikes.
His lips curved slightly. To endure lightning… my body is strong enough to withstand an attack from a mind rank foundation building master
Iron Bone and Copper skinBody ArtRefine skin and muscle. Flesh becomes iron, muscle tempered like forged steel. Requires raw iron essence for tempering.
Han xing exhaled. Perfect. My body will be my blade.
The servant paled. "Sir, I must warn you… Desolation Fist and Thunder Step no one has mastered them. Desolation cripples most. Thunder Step requires lightning is suicide."
Han xing's crimson eyes glowed faintly. "And if I master them?"
The servant stammered. "If… if you master them, you will stand above all your peers in the same realm. But—"
Han xing cut him off, voice steady as steel. "Then that is enough. I will take them. If I die, I will not blame anyone but myself."
The servant bowed, shaken. "As you wish."
By the time Han xing left, his coin pouch was empty well then there only one person who can help me .
Commander Ling's Home
With nowhere else to stay, Han xing accepted Ling's offer of lodging. The commander's home was simple but vast, guarded by loyal men.
That evening, at dinner, Han xing met Ling's daughter Ling Su Ren. Fourteen, with bright clear eyes and a smile like spring.
She studied him quietly for a moment, gaze lingering on his crimson eyes. Hesitation flickered in her expression before she spoke softly:
"They're… beautiful. Like jewels glowing in the dark."
Han xing blinked, caught off guard. Few had ever praised his eyes; most saw them as ominous. "…Thank you."
She grinned, her cheer undimmed by his coldness.
For the first time in years, something stirred within him—not weakness, but the faint echo of warmth.
That night, he sat cross-legged in his room, manuals spread before him. His body still ached, but his will was unshakable.
"The next step… refine skin and muscle. Temper with iron essence. And master these techniques, no matter the cost."
He closed his eyes. Crimson qi flickered faintly, and killing intent coiled like a shadow around him.
When dawn came, the storm itself would test whether his resolve was steel or dust.