The border city burned with the noise of war. Cannons thundered from the walls, vomiting fire into the night, while cultivators in gleaming armor clashed against alien beasts things of iron and rotting flesh welded together. The ground itself trembled, soaked with gore, as men screamed and metal shrieked.
At the edge of the camp, a youth stood in plain soldier's garb. His hood shadowed his face, but when the flames flared, they revealed eyes glowing like coals red, alive with something older than fear.
Commander Ling marched forward, iron greaves crushing ash and bone beneath his steps. His voice rang out like a hammer on steel.
"Who let this boy into my lines? He's soft, untested! This is no place for children."
Laughter cracked through the ranks like dry wood snapping. Recruits sneered, some with pity, others with venom.
Han Xing raised his head. His voice was steady, sharper than steel."Child? In my first battle, I killed two hundred demonic foot soldiers. If you doubt me, test me."
The mockery faltered. Faces hardened. Commander Ling narrowed his eyes, studying the youth like a blade being weighed in his hand."Then prove it."
A soldier stepped forward, grinning with cruelty."I'll break him in half."
The instant the signal dropped, Han moved.
His leg snapped out, arcing like a whip. The strike ripped through the air with a crack like thunder, breaking the sound barrier. Bone shattered clean, sickening. The man's guard splintered, his ribs snapping beneath Han's palm strike a heartbeat later. He flew back, armor ringing, blood spraying across the dirt.
Silence fell. The laughter died.
Han lowered his leg with the calm of a man stepping over a puddle. No pride. No arrogance. Just inevitability.
Commander Ling's face was stone. "Enough. He's earned his place. Form ranks! The enemy is here!"
The Clash
The walls vomited fire. Screams tore the night as the first wave hit. Alien beasts surged from the smoke, claws screeching against shields, iron jaws dripping with blood. Men screamed as they were dragged down, armor ripped apart, flesh devoured.
Han surged forward.
His saber sang with thunder and flame, cleaving through beasts like rotten wood. The halberd in his left hand crushed skulls, severed spines, sent monsters crumpling in heaps of twitching flesh and sparking wires.
A recruit stumbled, throat nearly torn open by a beast's claws. Han's kick snapped out, the whip-blade strike crushing the monster's jaw, teeth flying like shards of glass. The saber followed, splitting it clean down the spine.
They die the same. Steel, flesh it makes no difference. All things fall to the blade.
The ground became a mire of mud and blood. Soldiers slipped on intestines, shields cracked beneath dripping claws. The stench of burnt oil and boiling flesh rolled through the smoke. Han moved like a phantom, every strike leaving corpses broken in his wake.
"Fall back! Hold the line!" Commander Ling's roar rose above the slaughter.
The Fire Bear
Then the ground shook.
From the fog of war emerged a towering monster, its eyes burning like coals. A massive bear, its body plated in blackened scales, fire leaking from the cracks of its flesh as though its veins ran molten. Each step it took left scorched earth behind.
"Foundation Building realm…" a veteran gasped before being crushed under the monster's paw, his body flattening with a wet crack.
The Demonic Fire Bear bellowed, the roar a furnace blast that rattled armor and made weaker soldiers stumble in terror.
Han did not retreat. He gripped his saber and halberd, eyes narrowing.
The bear charged, claws igniting with fire. Han barely dodged, the heat blistering his skin as the earth where he had stood exploded in a geyser of molten stone. He countered with the halberd, the crescent blade sparking as it bit into scales only to bounce off, leaving nothing but a scratch.
The return strike was brutal. The bear's paw slammed into his chest. Pain bloomed like a hammer cracking ribs. Blood filled his mouth as he flew across the dirt, skidding through corpses. He staggered to his feet, one arm trembling, saber shaking in his grip.
The beast advanced, fire drooling from its maw.
Han exhaled once. So this is where I die?
But then the haze parted, and the battlefield was gone.
He saw a throne of black stone. A demon emperor, robed in shadow, crowned with bone, eyes like pits of eternal malice. His mother knelt before it, her hands trembling as she pushed him behind her. The emperor's claw descended, vast and merciless. Her last words, whispered through blood and tears: "Live, Han. Even if it costs me."
Then the strike fell. Her body crumpled. Her blood stained the stone.
The despair that had bound him as a child now rose again. His body screamed, his bones cracked, his strength faltered.
So this is how I die…?
No. Not like this. Never again.
A roar ripped from his throat, raw and terrible. It wasn't a technique. It wasn't cultivation. It was the cry of a boy who had lost everything and refused to lose again.
He surged forward. His leg lashed out—the Whip Blade Kick slamming into the Fire Bear's skull with thunderous force. The beast's head snapped aside, shock flashing in its molten eyes.
Han's broken fist followed, crashing into its muzzle with the force of defiance itself. The beast staggered back, sliding across scorched earth, its roar choked with pain.
For a heartbeat, silence. Then the second roar came.
Another Demonic Fire Bear, larger, stepped from the smoke. Scales glowed molten, fire leaking from every seam.
Two monsters now loomed.
Han's breath rattled. Xun appeared at his side, one arm shredded, lightning sparking weakly across his spear. Both swayed, both bled, both stood.
"Han Xing," Xun rasped. "Let's die standing."
Han spat blood, red eyes burning. "Not yet."
The bears charged.
Commander's Judgment
"Enough."
The voice rang like iron across the battlefield. Commander Ling stepped down from the ridge. His cloak trailed ash; his blade shone like a fragment of heaven.
He raised it skyward.
The air itself quivered.
And then the heavens answered.
A rain of swords descended thousands, tens of thousands, each gleaming like falling stars. They struck with divine inevitability, piercing flesh, bone, and steel alike.
The two Fire Bears were the first to fall, impaled from skull to spine, their roars choking into silence. But the storm did not end. Every demon beast across the battlefield shrieked as steel tore through them the iron hounds, the carrion-winged horrors, the stitched abominations. All were cut down in the endless sword-rain, shredded until the earth itself became a forest of blades and corpses.
When silence returned, only smoke and ruin remained.
Commander Ling lowered his sword. He strode across the graveyard of steel until he reached the two bloodied youths who still stood barely. His gaze lingered on them, measuring, weighing.
"You've done well… for new blood," he said at last, voice harsh, but the weight of recognition unmistakable.
Han tried to answer, but his body gave way. Darkness surged in, his knees buckled, and the world tilted. The commander's hand steadied him for a brief moment before the black swallowed all.
Han's last thought was not of the bear, not of the battlefield, but of the Demon Emperor's throne.One day, I will be strong enough. One day, even you will fall by my hand.
Then the dark took him.