Shi Yun Han froze in place, astonishment written across his face at his son's declaration. Create a technique? It was far from easy. To forge a new technique required profound personal experiences and a deep understanding of martial arts. True, possessing a unique technique could open the way for its growth, allowing one to rely on it and cultivate it to higher levels. But such a path demanded a long time—so long that even Shi Yun Han himself, despite his strength and status, had never created one. He had always relied on the heritage of the family.
He smiled faintly, though his voice carried a trace of severity.
— "Very well… I'll give you a deadline. If you do not reach the level of General by the age of fifteen… you will abandon this."
It was a voice balanced between a desire to grant his son freedom and a father's concern that his talents not go to waste.
Shi Yun Lan nodded in agreement.
— "Alright."
He withdrew into his room, shutting the door behind him, and began a long seclusion for meditation. A whole year passed, during which no one was allowed into his chamber except the little maid, Bi Ri. She would slip in silently, place the food, and leave without making a sound. Often, she saw him sitting there with eyes closed, unmoving, and a strange itch stirred in her heart. She longed to know what weighed on him, but she held herself back and departed quietly.
At last, Shi Yun Lan emerged from his solitude. Yet his face bore the marks of frustration.
I have always felt that sensation, something inseparable from me… Ever since I came to this family, it grew for a short time—before I had the guard, Leon, and Bi Ri… even Father. But its true origin was in the cave where he first found me. It was the feeling of loneliness, emptiness, and death. Now, everything has changed. I tried to shape my new technique from martial knowledge and that feeling… but I've lost it. Without personal experience, perhaps I have no choice but to rely on the family's legacy.
In his mind, he had already formed the structure of a unique sword style. What it lacked was the "essence"—that inner resonance to breathe life into the technique. Just as fiery temperament often accompanied those who wielded the fire element, and cold indifference those of the ice element, the power did not truly stem from the element itself, but from the mental aura carried within. Yet Shi Yun Lan could not reach it.
Finally, he decided to return to the training grounds. But when he arrived, neither Bi Ri nor Leon were there. A chill of unease gripped him. He rushed through the halls of the Black Manor in search of them, until he came upon a crowd gathered at the gates. Pushing his way through, his heart sank at the sight before him.
It was Leon—the loyal guard—his body covered in wounds, blood pouring from him. Shi Yun Lan dashed forward in alarm, shouting:
— "Why are you standing there?! Move him to a bed at once! Call the physician, quickly!"
Panic and anger churned inside him. What happened to Leon? Where is Bi Ri? They were fine just yesterday… what on earth occurred?!
Leon's trembling hand clutched his young master's robe, his voice faint and broken, as if speaking his last:
— "Young… master… we were… ambushed… and… Bi Ri… was taken…"
The words faded, and he collapsed unconscious. Shi Yun Lan's heart boiled with fury and fear. He turned to the servants and guards, his command thunderous:
— "Spread out! Search for my maid, Bi Ri! Whoever finds her will be richly rewarded!"
The guards' eyes lit with eagerness. Everyone knew the young master Lan was generous with his followers, and surely his reward would be great. But before they could move, a sharp female voice cut in:
— "Stop! The guards are not permitted to abandon their posts. What do you think you're doing, boy?"
He spun around to face the first wife of his father, her sharp gaze fixed on him. Rage trembled through his body, and he shouted back without restraint:
— "You vile hag! Didn't you once order the guards to scour the entire city just to find a single piece of your jewelry?! Now I search for what belongs to me as well! Do not force me to act against you!"
The woman gasped in shock, stunned that this boy would dare insult her openly. No one had ever spoken to her so brazenly. Recovering, she retorted with a cutting tone:
— "Your insolence—I will report it to your father! As for the 'trinket' you speak of, it was an artifact more valuable than a hundred maids. Were it not, your father would never have allowed the soldiers to move."
Shi Yun Lan clenched his teeth, swallowing his anger, and turned away. He stormed off in the direction Leon and Bi Ri had taken. Following faint tracks on the ground, he identified the path and launched himself forward, using movement techniques that gave him bursts of incredible speed. His heart pounded as his eyes swept the surroundings.
At last, he reached a desolate, abandoned building, far from the manor, in a place isolated—perfect for crimes to be hidden. Silently, he crept closer, his heart filled with dread. From inside, voices carried out:
— "What? You kidnapped the young master Lan's maid? Are you insane?!"
The voice was familiar, though he couldn't place it. Another man answered with disdain:
— "So what? She's just a maid, isn't she? Why do you care? He can always get another. If you want, I can even give you a woman to present to the young master as a replacement—because this one is as good as dead."
At those words—especially the last—Shi Yun Lan felt as though lightning split his skull. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white…
Has Bi Ri… died?!
Could one of my family members be involved?
And how could that man speak so coldly, as if it were natural?!
Shi Yun Lan's veins throbbed as a realization struck him. No! This was the feeling I had lost—the loneliness, the emptiness, the presence of death itself!
He fell silent, then pushed open the door and stepped inside as if he owned the place, without the slightest disturbance. The two men were still talking, but froze when he appeared before them.
He glanced at one—someone from the clan, whose face he vaguely recognized, though he quickly dismissed it as unimportant. His eyes shifted to the other man, who stared in shock, then laughed boisterously:
— "Hahaha! What luck! Another child for me today! Well then, boy, what is it?"
The second man trembled with fear, stammering:
— "Young master Shi Yun Lan… what are you doing here?!"
Shi Yun Lan fixed them with a lifeless gaze, his voice devoid of emotion:
— "It seems you're from the branch family… but it doesn't matter. You'll die with him."
Pointing at the other man, he continued, his words slow and chilling:
— "If you want a quick, painless death… stretch out your necks. Otherwise… don't blame me for showing no mercy."
His tone no longer belonged to a twelve-year-old boy, but to an ancient beast standing one step away from the grave. His eyes radiated death itself, freezing the very air, filling the room with a suffocating dread.
The clan member stiffened, then sneered:
— "So you've discovered us… then I'll just have to kill you! I'll claim you died at the hands of child abductors. As for you," he snapped at his companion, "hide yourself well, so no one will ever find you!"
The other man nodded rapidly, yet his mind raced in horror. What is this child? The aura around him isn't bloodlust or simple killing intent… it's death itself. As if our lives mean nothing. In his eyes, all existence is void.
The clan member lunged with his sword, confident. He was at the level of General; to him, the boy was merely an arrogant prodigy who had foolishly rejected the family's legacy. His blade swung toward Shi Yun Lan's throat—
But in that instant, he faltered. The boy's eyes were neither brave nor afraid. They were the stillness of a bottomless well. His heart jolted in warning—then, suddenly, his fingers and sword went flying, severed in a blur.
He staggered back, horrified.
Shi Yun Lan did not pause. He leapt upon the other man, slicing through his legs. The man screamed in agony as he collapsed. Shi Yun Lan moved to finish him, but the clan member rushed forward to intercept.
Too late. The boy shifted his attack, tearing the man's knees apart. Both captors now lay crippled on the ground, staring up at the child whose icy gaze drenched them in terror.
They began to beg, but Shi Yun Lan no longer heard them. He was consumed by that sensation he had long sought. No rage—only the cold desire to kill… and slowly.
He drew his sword, driving it into one man's shoulder. The screams rang out, grating to his ears, so he cut the tendons to silence his thrashing. Then he continued, stabbing and pulling, carving flesh while they yet lived, cracking bone beneath his blade. Nothing filled his mind but their screams.
Their final gazes held nothing but misery and despair.
Only then did Shi Yun Lan's trance shatter. He blinked and saw behind him the guards, their bodies trembling at the horror before them.
— "Clear the way for the clan master!"
One of the senior guards pushed forward, opening a path for Shi Yun Han. Father and son's eyes met across the scene.
Shi Yun Han froze, shocked. There stood his son—his child—drenched in blood, his eyes hollow, stripped of humanity.
But then, Shi Yun Lan's expression cracked. Tears welled in those dark eyes, and he broke into sobs.
— "Father! … Bi Ri… she's dead!"
The suffocating air lifted. The boy who had moments ago embodied death was now crying like any child.
Shi Yun Han shook his head, speaking softly:
— "No… she's alive. She was in the secret chamber, hiding. She saw you… saw everything… and was crying, terrified. It left her deeply shaken—she couldn't even bring herself to face you."
Shi Yun Lan's eyes widened. Relief washed over him; he let out a breath… and collapsed unconscious.
Word spread through the clan of what had happened: Shi Yun Lan had slaughtered the kidnappers—one a clan member, the other his kin. They had been trafficking children for profit, but their deaths were unspeakably gruesome.
From that day on, the guards looked upon the boy with awe and fear alike. Some respected him for protecting those loyal to him, while others dreaded his merciless methods. He was punished, of course, by his father—for insulting his stepmother—but he didn't care.
His only concern was Bi Ri. She was no longer the cheerful girl who had once laughed with him. Now, she was frightened, distant.
So he buried himself in training. For a year, he practiced the arts of Annihilation. And in that time, he forged his own technique—
The Aura of Death.