Samuel Cooper suddenly steeled himself, found a wall brick, knelt on the ground, and smashed the four sets of remains into powder. Each blow he struck with such force, as if dealing with an enemy. At some point, he realized his face was streaming with tears.

“Heaven is unjust!”

Samuel Cooper said bitterly, scooping up the ashes and scattering them into the air. The The Cooper Family did not deserve such a fate. His father, Logan Cooper, practiced martial arts but never got involved in the feuds of the martial world. In court, he was even more cautious, always careful not to offend anyone, steadfast in his forbearance, sometimes even to the point of weakness.

Perhaps his father had secret enemies, but the The Cooper Family had already moved thousands of miles to the Western Regions. What unresolved grudge could possibly warrant chasing them all the way here?

Samuel Cooper couldn’t understand. He blamed it all on heaven, grabbed the wall brick, and hurled it fiercely into the air.

After cruelly treating the The Cooper Family, heaven seemed intent on mocking the young master once more. The brick rose only a few feet, traced a mocking arc, and landed outside the “door” with a clang, smashing into a flowerpot at the entrance.

The pomegranate tree in the pot had turned into a piece of charred wood, and the pot itself was brittle from the fire. With that sound, it cracked into several pieces and collapsed to the ground.

Samuel Cooper’s strength was long since spent. After throwing the brick, he collapsed to his knees, hands on the ground, gasping for breath, without even the energy to curse.

But only a moment later, heaven’s mockery turned into a display of miracle. Samuel Cooper looked up and happened to see the clump of soil still holding the shape of the flowerpot. Suddenly, something came to him.

He rushed outside like a madman, using both hands to dig through the scorched earth, tossing aside the roots, and from the bottom of the pot dug out a very small oilcloth bundle. He squeezed it gently, confirmed there was a book inside, and finally breathed a sigh of relief. Carefully, he tucked it into his chest, behind his small pouch of silver, hiding it close to his body.

He remembered a scene he had glimpsed by chance one night after they first moved to the Western Regions: his father hiding something in the flowerpot. At the time, he’d been exhausted and only felt puzzled by his father’s actions, never analyzing it seriously. Now, in this moment of family ruin, a flash of insight told him what his father had hidden.

Inside the little oilcloth bundle was the shortcut method for “He-He Jin” (the Harmonious Force).

“He-He Jin” was divided into nine levels of Yang force and nine levels of Yin force. Even the most experienced practitioner, Logan Cooper, had only reached the fifth level of both Yin and Yang. But there was a shortcut method that could greatly increase one’s power in a short time, though it carried great risks. Few descendants of the The Cooper Family had ever practiced it.

The highest level of “He-He Jin” would be invincible in the world—Samuel Cooper firmly believed this. Suddenly, heaven was no longer the culprit behind the The Cooper Family’s disaster. On the contrary, it had pointed out a path of vengeance to Samuel Cooper.

Samuel Cooper had just cursed heaven, so he preferred to call this miracle “divine will.” He was only fourteen, always sheltered by his father and brothers, never imagining he would one day bear the burden of revenge. He even vaguely wished he had been the one to die—either of his two brothers would have been more suited to avenge the family.

He needed a “divine will” to support his resolve for revenge.

But now, the most urgent thing was to find his last remaining relative, the sister who loved him most, Grace. She might still be alive, suffering somewhere.

At this moment, “divine will” played another trick: a sharp whistle suddenly sounded outside the manor, piercing and startling in the silent night.

Chapter 0004: The Crossroads

Samuel Cooper sprang to his feet. For a moment, he was so impulsive he wanted to rush out and fight his enemies to the death. But reason quickly prevailed. No matter who those killers were, his father Logan Cooper, his master Henry Clark, and his two brothers had all been powerless to resist. He himself was even weaker—surviving was already a miracle.

From all directions, new whistles joined in, some long, some short, rising and falling like a flock of raucous raptors fighting over food. Soon, they entered the ruins of the manor, hoofbeats thundering, as if hundreds or thousands of people were charging in.

Samuel Cooper crouched low, just managing to hide behind a broken wall, when a torch was thrown into the air, tumbling over his head.

Before Samuel Cooper could figure out what was happening, he felt a tight grip on the back of his neck—a large hand seized him firmly. Its owner vaulted on horseback, and Samuel Cooper was lifted off his feet, powerless to resist.

Before the horse’s hooves even touched the ground, the hand suddenly let go. Samuel Cooper crashed heavily to the ground, crying out in pain, rolling twice before he managed to stand. He found himself surrounded by mounted swordsmen. In the torchlight, each one looked like a hungry wolf, greedily eyeing a small prey.

Such is the way of the world: after an earthquake comes torrential rain, after rain comes wild wind. Misfortune is like a wounded animal—its dripping blood always attracts more predators, then scavengers, then night prowlers, then flies, then even smaller creatures, until that mass of flesh and bone is utterly gone.

The extermination of the The Cooper Family was a mortal wound. The first wave of killers had eaten their fill and withdrawn. In their wake, a pack of jackals and crows followed the trail.

They were filthy bandits and thieves, far fewer in number than Samuel Cooper had imagined—only five in fact. The whistles, hoofbeats, and torches had all magnified the scene.