Linfei lay in bed, his body weak, his chest rising slowly with each breath. Though the room around him was quiet and strange, his mind pulled him back into fragments of memories—shadows of the family he had come from.
The Lin Family was not one of the mighty clans that ruled vast cities and nations. They lived far away from the center of power, in a remote corner of a poor continent known as the Eastern Wastes. Life there was harder, resources fewer, and even those called noble still fought bitterly over scraps of strength. To other clans, the Lin Family was small and unimportant. Yet, within the Wastes, they still carried weight, for they had martial roots and bloodline pride.
His memory of his mother was faint, like a dream he could not fully grasp. He could not recall her face clearly, only a soft presence, always quiet, always watching. There was something mysterious about her… something he now realized he never understood, and perhaps was never told.
His father, on the other hand, stood taller in his memory. Strong shoulders, a firm voice, the kind of man who was respected even in those distant lands. He had been one of the sons of the Lin Family, though not the most powerful. Unlike his brothers, who sought dominance and control, his father seemed to care more for simple things—family, survival, and small moments of teaching.
And then there was that last memory, so shallow and broken now that Linfei had been reborn, but still lodged deep in his heart. His father had left on a mission, walking away and never returning. Before he left, he had spoken only a few short words to his son. Not a promise. Not a story. Only a heavy burden disguised as advice.
"Take care…"
That was all Linfei remembered. Take care—of what, of who? The memory was incomplete, blurred like mist. Yet even in its shallow form, those words carried weight. His father had trusted him, even though he was just a child.
After his father left, chaos stirred in the family. His two uncles rose, each wanting to lead. Each wanted to gather more resources for their children, to push their bloodlines further. In a land where food, land, and martial treasures were scarce, their greed brought endless struggle. Strength meant control, and without his father to shield him, Linfei had been swept aside.
Now, breathing again after death, he finally understood what this world demanded. It did not matter that he was his father's son. It did not matter what feelings his mother once carried. The truth of this land was simple:
Martial arts ruled fate. The strong lived above all. The weak lived only at the mercy of others.
And this continent, the Eastern Wastes, was only the beginning. There were richer lands, stronger clans, and greater continents beyond. He felt it, even if the memories were faint—his story would not end here.
Clenching his trembling fist against the bed sheets, Linfei swore silently:
"I was born weak. But I will not remain weak. Not in this life."