Chapter One: Brian Carter

“Run, run quickly…”

“The farther you run, the better… Don’t look back, no matter what…”

Boundless darkness.

Within the darkness, a woman’s voice rang out urgently, as if shouting right beside his ear, the pitch so high it became sharp and distorted, tearing at the heart.

This cry had always been buried deep in his heart, never to be forgotten.

Suddenly, a beam of light appeared, as if someone had pierced a hole through the impenetrable darkness.

The opening grew larger, the light brighter, gradually condensing into a shaft of radiance. Illuminated by the light, a massive shadow loomed, faintly discernible.

The shadow was incomparably huge, like a primordial demon god splitting heaven and earth, with twin horns on its head and spikes jutting out all over its body, exuding an awe-inspiring might. Even though its features were unclear, a wild and domineering aura erupted in an instant:

Savage, slaughter, destruction!

A multitude of fierce and ruthless energies tangled and fused together, like a hurricane threatening to tear a person to shreds—

“Ah!”

Brian Carter cried out in terror, his eyes snapping open as he sat up with a gasp: it had all been a dream. His back was drenched in cold sweat.

That nightmare again…

Sitting quietly on the bed, ripples stirred in his heart; a blood-soaked scene, long frozen in his memory, surfaced in his mind—mountains of corpses, seas of blood, waves of grief and indignation crashing over him, constantly reminding him:

Some things, even if it means death, must be faced.

Absolutely!

He looked up at the sky through the open window and saw the first pale light of dawn in the east—it would soon be morning. His expression tightened, and he quickly got up to dress and wash. Scooping cold water from an old porcelain basin, he splashed it on his face, shivering from the chill, instantly refreshed. Then he picked up the long-handled broom behind the door and slung a large bamboo basket over his shoulder.

The big basket swayed behind him, and the faded, oversized coarse cloth shirt he wore hung awkwardly on his thin frame, making him look even more frail.

With a creak, he pushed open the simple wooden door and, facing the morning light in the east, began a new day’s work.

……

Brian Carter was eighteen this year, working as a menial laborer at the Zhongnan Sword Sect in the southern part of Huangzhou.

The world was vast, divided into nine continents, with Huangzhou being one of them, also known as the “Abandoned Continent.” The terrain was treacherous, barren, and remote. Aside from a few scattered county towns, most of the land was wild and inhospitable, with few places where people gathered.

In the south, atop Mount Zhongnan, stood the Zhongnan Sword Sect, once one of the top ten sword sects in the world.

The sect was divided into the outer and inner courts, and Brian Carter was a laborer in the outer court. His daily work consisted of sweeping the grounds, wiping down walls, doors, and windows, and so on.

He had worked hard to get this job.

Since childhood, Brian Carter had wandered from place to place, suffering more hardships than he’d eaten bowls of rice. All along, countless people believed he wouldn’t live to adulthood. But for eighteen years, Brian Carter had survived like a tenacious wild grass, refusing to yield. Due to malnutrition, he was thin and frail, as if a gust of wind could blow him over, but his eyes were bright and spirited, incongruously lively.

In the faint morning light and chilly air, the other laborers also got up, took their tools, and began their respective tasks.

The sect was strictly managed, tolerating no “filth, disorder, or neglect.” If such things were discovered, the laborers would not only have their wages docked but would also be expelled from the sect, never to be employed again.

Brian Carter didn’t want to lose this hard-won job, so he always worked diligently and meticulously every day. Only during his free moments would he secretly glance at the passing disciples of the sect, his eyes shining with envy.

If only one day, I could be accepted as a disciple of the Sword Sect…

But such thoughts were destined to be nothing but wishful thinking.

The Zhongnan Sword Sect had an extremely strict recruitment process for disciples. The first requirement alone—reaching the third level of strength—was something Brian Carter could never hope to achieve.

One day at lunch, Brian Carter let slip his dream, and his fellow laborers immediately burst into laughter, their mirth full of mockery and ridicule.

Wasn’t it so? A drab little sparrow daring to dream of becoming a phoenix—what could be more absurd and laughable?

Amid the laughter, Brian Carter fell silent, eating quietly, vowing to himself: from now on, he would never reveal his true thoughts to others so easily.

But he never gave up on his dream: “At least I still dare to dream. If I don’t even dare to dream, how am I any different from a rotten salted fish?”