The Immortal Born from Ashes

"Why would someone like me destroy a small but proud dynasty?"

Yun Wao stood quiet. The wind blew past him like it didn't care. His eyes looked over the burned ground, the black remains of buildings that used to be home. This was where he learned to walk. Where his brothers and sisters fought over the last bun. Where his dad said, "A dynasty isn't built with bricks. It's built with blood."

And now?

Just ashes.

No king. No guards. No parents. No dynasty.

Even with all his power — and he had a lot — destroying a place like this would've taken everything. Whoever did it… made it look easy.

"Who would do this? What kind of monster burns down a whole dynasty like it's nothing?"

He made his fists tight.

"And why us?"

…

Before all this fire and death, Yun Wao lived like a retired king in the Crimson Dragon Dynasty. No problems. No angry uncles. No weird uncles either. Just lots of food, music, and people calling him Young Master — which, honestly, he was.

He wasn't saving the world. He wasn't fighting demons. He was just having fun like the world would never end.

One day, he jumped into a fountain to see if he could hold his breath longer than the fish.

Another time, he tried to flirt with a merchant's daughter — but she was actually the merchant herself. (He still tried. She still slapped him.)

Life was silly. Loud. Crazy. But good.

Then… he came home.

He thought he'd see guards. Trumpets. Maybe his annoying cousin asking for spirit stones.

But all he found was a graveyard with no tombstones. Just smoke. And silence.

He walked through the ruins. Not a single person was left. Not even the dogs. The wind didn't howl — it was quiet, like it didn't want to wake anyone.

Because no one was left to wake.

Yun Wao didn't cry. Didn't scream. Didn't punch the ground or yell at the sky.

He just stood there.

And for the first time in his life…

he couldn't think of anything at all.

…