He had once used a long spear to defeat three people in a row, but after just one night, he ended up beheaded, his head mounted on the spear for all passersby to see—a clear act of intimidation by his killer.

Next, Samuel Cooper saw several corpses lying on the ground—not just one.

Henry Clark's body was near the long spear, without a single wound on it. The killer had acted swiftly and cleanly, taking his head with a single move. Samuel Cooper could not imagine the level of martial skill this person possessed.

Nearby were three more bodies. One belonged to the maid Hazel, her chest and face covered in knife wounds, her blood soaking her clothes. She had no martial skills at all, yet the killer had struck her several times, seemingly just to torment her.

Another was the young page Ethan, still dressed in the young master's clothes. Samuel Cooper could only identify the body by its clothing, as Ethan's head was missing—not mounted on the spear, nor discarded nearby.

Samuel Cooper fell from his horse, dropped to his knees, and could not help but vomit. Only when there was nothing left in his stomach did he force himself to look at the last corpse, because it was strange.

What gave Samuel Cooper a slight sense of relief was that this last body was not his sister, but a young boy about his own age, covered in wounds like Hazel, but with an unfamiliar face—someone he had never seen before.

Samuel Cooper mounted his horse and continued eastward at a gallop. He needed to know his sister's whereabouts, to return home and understand what had happened.

In his memory, the The Cooper Family had no enemies—not in the Central Plains, nor in the Western Regions.

By dusk, Samuel Cooper returned to the small village at the foot of the manor's mountain. The dozen or so households here were all tenant farmers of the The Cooper Family. At this hour, there should have been smoke curling from every chimney, but today, every door was tightly shut, and not a wisp of smoke rose.

Looking up the mountain, the The Cooper Family manor had already been reduced to ashes.

Samuel Cooper arrived at his own front gate, dismounted, and stood there in a daze, his heart filled with confusion. Staring at the pitch-black ruins, he felt trapped in a strange dream from which he could not awaken, no matter how hard he tried.

Was his home really gone? Were his family really dead?

Samuel Cooper stepped over still-warm broken tiles and charred wood, checking each room as if the roofs and walls were still standing.

It had been a massacre without resistance. Every body was left where it fell, burned beyond recognition, but from their locations, Samuel Cooper could still roughly identify who each one was.

His father, Logan Cooper, and mother, The Foster Family, lay side by side, both beheaded. Samuel Cooper had to struggle to clear away the bricks and wood covering them before he could see the two small skeletons. Logan Cooper was a skilled martial artist, a hero in his son's eyes, yet he had not sensed any danger from the enemy.

His two older brothers also lay where they had fallen, likewise beheaded, likewise dying in silence—their years of hard-earned skills never given a chance to be used.

The servants and hired hands were all left whole; the killers seemed interested only in the heads of the masters.

But his sister was still nowhere to be found. In her room were only the bodies of three maids. Though they were burned beyond recognition, Samuel Cooper could tell that none of them was his sister.

A boy who had lived a carefree life since childhood, pampered and protected, was suddenly plunged into a world where his family was destroyed. His first feeling was fear—his home was gone. Who would protect and guide him now?

He had thought he would only step into the adult world after his sister married, but in the blink of an eye, he found himself alone in a strange world, his future uncertain, everything before him shrouded in mist.

Slowly, anger filled the boy's heart. He would find his sister. He would take revenge, kill every enemy, no matter how many there were or where they came from.

Once the thought of revenge took hold, Samuel Cooper immediately regained his composure. He could not go after his enemies empty-handed; he needed some resources.

The manor had been looted by the killers, most valuables taken, but there were always things they missed.

Samuel Cooper had never cared about the family's finances, but now, countless details of daily life flashed through his mind, from which he deduced a few small secrets.

Under his second brother's bed, he dug out a small pouch of silver. When he pushed aside the body lying on top, he nearly wept, but forced himself to hold back. What use were tears? As a child, they might have brought comfort or help, but now they only meant weakness and shame.

The road to revenge would be long. He did not even know who his enemies were. For now, the most important thing was to deal with his family's remains.

The masters of the The Cooper Family had not even left whole bodies behind, only charred skeletons that would break at the slightest touch. Samuel Cooper carefully carried his two brothers' remains to his parents' room, laying them side by side with the other two skeletons.

To call it a "room" was a stretch—there was no room left. The roof had collapsed, the walls had fallen, and the ground was covered in ashes, bricks, charred wood, and metal. Before long, this place would become a desolate grave, its broken walls overgrown with grass.

Samuel Cooper had seen such villages before—white bones scattered in the grass, turned into nests for crawling things, trampled at will by passing birds and beasts.

He could not let his loved ones, already so broken in death, suffer such torment again.