Age: 7 Years Old.
The summons arrived on a rainy Tuesday. It wasn't delivered by a normal courier. It was delivered by a Royal Griffin Knight a Rank 5 (Elite Knight) who looked at our muddy border town like he had stepped in fresh dog excrement.
"By the decree of His Majesty, King Roland de Helios," the Knight announced, unrolling a scroll that smelled of lavender and high taxes. "The daughter of Baron Arthur Valerius, Elena Valerius, is hereby recognized as a Saintess Candidate. The family is to relocate to the Capital immediately for her education."
My father, Baron Arthur, knelt in the mud. He looked old. The lines on his face deepened. He knew King Roland. They were friends once, long ago, before the political sharks forced the King to exile my father for having "Low Mana."
This summons... it was likely Roland trying to bring his old friend back under the guise of protecting Elena. A gesture of kindness. But my father knew the truth: returning to the Capital meant entering a viper's nest. The Queen and the High Nobles would not be pleased.
My mother, Sarah, wept silently, fearing for her daughter. Elena, now five years old, clapped her hands. "Yay! A trip! Nii-ni, we are going on a trip!"
I stood in the corner, leaning against the wall, chewing on a piece of dried jerky (it was actually a Dried Viper I caught yesterday excellent texture, chewy, high protein).
‘Roland de Helios,’ I thought, analyzing the name while chewing on snake meat. ‘The Benevolent Puppet. He probably thinks he is saving us. He doesn't realize that by dragging us out of exile, he just painted a target on our backs for every corrupt noble in the kingdom.’
I shifted my gaze to the Griffin Knight. ‘Rank 5. His mana flow is decent, but his stance is garbage. Too much weight on his heels. If we fought, I could kill him in three moves using Form 1. He wouldn't even see my hand move.’
I checked my internal status.
Status: Age 7.
- External Mana: Zero (Trash).
- Internal Cultivation: Murim Third Rate (High).
- Physical Body: Murim Second Rate (Iron Skin).
I had finished the "Bone Forging." My skeleton was now harder than industrial steel. I had mastered Phase 1: The Foundation of the Heavenly Demon Arts. I was ready to leave this tutorial zone.
The Morning of Departure.
The courtyard was chaos. Servants were running around like headless chickens, packing chests and loading the wagon. My father was shouting orders about grain supplies. Elena was chasing a butterfly near the open gate, her Holy Aura leaking out like a beacon.
I was carrying a heavy crate of supplies toward the carriage. Suddenly, the ground shook.
BOOM. BOOM.
A warning bell rang from the town watchtower. The sound was frantic. "Monster Breach! The West Wall is down! A Steel-Back Boar is loose in the residential district!"
Screams erupted. The town guards (Rank 2 Foot Soldiers) scrambled, their spears shaking in their hands. A Steel-Back Boar was a Rank 3 Monster. It wasn't just a big pig. It was a biological tank. Its hide was covered in metallic scales that could deflect crossbow bolts. It weighed easily 500 kilograms.
"Elena! Get in the carriage!" Father roared, drawing his sword. But he was too far away. He was on the porch, thirty meters from the gate.
CRASH!
The wooden fence exploded into splinters. The Boar burst into the courtyard. It was massive. Steam snorted from its nostrils. Its tusks were the length of short swords, stained with fresh blood.
It scanned the area. It ignored the screaming maids. It ignored the panicked horses. It locked its beady eyes on Elena.
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Her Holy Mana smelled delicious. Like a fresh strawberry cake in a room full of stale bread.
"Nii-ni!" Elena froze, her blue eyes wide with terror.
The Boar pawed the ground. It charged. 60 kilometers per hour. A living missile of muscle and iron.
The guards were too slow. Father was running, his face pale, but he wouldn't make it in time.
‘Troublesome,’ I sighed.
I put the crate of apples down gently. I couldn't draw my "Nameless Cleaver" (it was packed deep in the luggage). I had to use my body.
‘Distance: 10 meters. Impact in 0.8 seconds.’
I walked. I didn't run. I simply stepped between the charging monster and my sister.
"Cain! Move!" Father screamed, his voice cracking with despair.
I ignored him. I faced the charging mountain of meat. To a normal observer, this was suicide. A 20kg child against a 500kg monster. Physics dictated I should be flattened into a red paste.
But physics is just a suggestion to the Heavenly Demon.
I adjusted my stance. I sank my hips. I rooted my feet into the earth, sending Qi down like tree roots. I took a deep breath.
‘Phase 1: The Foundation.’‘Form 2: Iron Mountain Shoulder (Tetsuzankou).’
This technique is deceptively simple. It looks like a tackle. But in reality, it is the manipulation of Internal Force. You don't push with your muscles. You turn your entire body into a solid projectile and explode the energy at the precise point of contact.
The Boar reached me. The smell of musk and rot hit my nose. Its tusk was inches from my chest.
I stepped forward. I slammed my small, bony shoulder into the Boar's massive snout.
BAM.
The sound wasn't flesh hitting flesh. It sounded like a cannon firing inside a tunnel. A dull, heavy, sickening thud that vibrated the chest of everyone watching.
The Boar didn't fly backward. That would be inefficient. Instead, it stopped instantly. From 60km/h to 0km/h in a millisecond.
The kinetic energy had to go somewhere. Since my "Iron Mountain" stance didn't budge, the energy traveled back into the Boar.
CRUNCH.
The sound of massive bones shattering echoed through the courtyard. The shockwave traveled from its snout, through its skull, down its spine, and into its internal organs. The Boar’s eyes bulged out of its head. Its brain turned to soup. Its heart exploded.
It stood there for one second, frozen. Then, it collapsed at my feet. Thud.
Dead. Not a scratch on the metallic hide, but completely liquefied on the inside.
Silence fell over the courtyard. The rain pattered against the dead beast's flank. The guards stared, their jaws dropped, spears hanging loosely in their hands. Father skidded to a halt, his sword half-raised, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"Cain..." Father whispered, his voice trembling. "Did you...?"
I blinked. I looked at the dead boar, then at my shoulder. I shook my head and put on my best "confused child" face.
"It tripped," I said, my voice flat and monotone. "Clumsy pig. It hit its head on the ground."
"Tripped...?" A guard muttered, looking at the caved-in skull. "It sounded like a thunderclap..."
"It tripped," I repeated.
The guard hesitated. He looked at the caved-in skull of the Rank 3 monster. "Tripped? But... the sound... it was like a thunderclap..."
I stopped smiling. I looked at the guard. For a split second, I stopped suppressing my cultivation. My eyes didn't just look pale anymore. They flashed a deep, Predatory Crimson.
I released a thread of Killing Intent. It wasn't magic. It was the biological signal of an apex predator looking at food.
"I said," I whispered, my voice dropping an octave. "It. Tripped. Do you have a problem with my vision?"
The guard flinched violently. His survival instinct screamed at him. Run. Don't look at him. That's not a boy. That's a beast. He took a stumbling step back, his face draining of color.
"N-No! Of course not! It tripped! Lucky break!" he stammered, averting his gaze.
I blinked, and my eyes returned to their dull, dead-fish look. "Good."
I picked up the apple crate again. "We should go. The apples are getting wet."
I walked past the corpse of the Steel-Back Boar. As I passed it, I inhaled deeply. To everyone else, it looked like I was just sighing. In reality, I was triggering Form 7: Blood-Drinking Vortex (Internal Version).
A grey mist the lingering Killing Intent and the remnant Soul of the Rank 3 Beast drifted out of the carcass. It swirled invisibly into my nose. Slurp.
It tasted like raw iron and anger. ‘Delicious,’ I thought, my Dantian humming as it digested the fresh energy. ‘Rank 3 Soul absorbed. Cultivation stabilized.’
I kept walking toward the carriage, ignoring the stunned silence of the courtyard.
Behind me, Baron Arthur lowered his sword. He didn't speak. He was a hidden Grandmaster a man who had touched the realm of "Sword Intent." He knew exactly what he had just seen. That wasn't a trip. That was a perfect transfer of kinetic energy. It was a martial art so advanced that even the Royal Knights wouldn't recognize it.
Arthur looked at the massive dead beast, then at the small back of his son. A complicated emotion crossed his face. He didn't ask questions. If his son wanted to hide, he would respect that choice. A warrior keeps his own secrets.
But a thought took root in his mind, chilling him to the bone.
‘Elena is a genius loved by the Gods...’ Arthur watched his daughter, who was crying safely in her mother's arms. ‘But Cain...’ He looked at the boy who had just crushed a tank with his shoulder and was now casually eating a soul.
‘Cain is a monster that the Gods are afraid of.’
Arthur sheathed his sword with a heavy click. He realized, for the first time, that the "Trash" son he had been protecting... might actually be the most dangerous thing in this entire kingdom.