God of Destruction

Zhi Hao was annoyed and tired. Every day, from dawn to dusk, he swung his sword thousands of times in his spacious backyard, hoping that there would be progress in his abilities. However, each time, all he felt was deep fatigue and mounting frustration. His body was sweaty, his muscles tensed, but his skills remained in the same place.

In the silence of the night, Zhi Hao sat pensively by the pool. The reflection of his face in the pool water showed a look of deep disappointment. "Being the first son should bring blessings, but mewill only be a source of disappointment," he muttered softly. Shame haunted every corner of his mind, especially when he remembered the ridicule and insults he often received because he was considered weak.

Zhi Hao took a deep breath, trying to calm the chaos in his heart. "Will my life continue like this, trapped in helplessness with no hope of growth?" he asked himself. He knew his family, especially his father, expected more from him.

In his despair, Zhi Hao looked up at the sky sprinkled with stars. "Should I give upOr keep trying without a clear direction?" His heart whispered looking for an answer. He knew he didn't want to continue to be insulted or ridiculed. However, what can it do if everything seems predestined?

That night, Zhi Hao decided that the next day he would look for another teacher, study martial arts from a different angle.

Maybe, somewhere else, in another way, he could find a way to prove himself, not only to his family, but especially to himself.

*

dawn had just broken on the eastern horizon, but Zhi Hao had already woken up and prepared himself to face a challenging day.

His sword equipment hung from his waist, gleaming in the soft morning light.

Even though he was known as the Young Master of the Zhi Clan with extraordinary swordsmanship, the views of the people around him were nothing more than pity. They saw him, but their eyes were blank, as if Zhi Hao was a shadow without substance.

What's the point of being proficient in swordsmanship without being able to use Energy. Even with a ten year old child, Zhi Hao lost the fight. Where one uses Energy while he only uses Physical Energy which cannot attack long distances.

Zhi Hao took a deep breath, rubbing his face which had not completely fallen asleep from the night's sleep. "This is the fate of the Eldest Son of the Zhi Clan. So pathetic," he muttered softly, his voice filled with deep disappointment. Every word spoken carried a burden of sadness that only he could feel.

Suddenly, light steps were heard approaching and a voice greeted, "Oh Brother. Where are you going so early in the morning?"

Zhi Long, his younger brother, appeared with a big smile on his face. However, behind that smile, Zhi Hao could read the lack of sincerity. He knew that all the kindness that Zhi Long showed was just a mask that hid his true intentions.

Zhi Hao turned his head, his eyes staring deeply at his sister, trying to penetrate the mask Zhi Long was wearing. in a more steady voice, he said, "Junior Brother, you will be the heir in the future. Take care of the Clan." His words were not only a message, but also a warning and hope that Zhi Long would carry out this mandate more properly.

With heavy steps, Zhi Hao continued his journey, leaving Zhi Long still standing there with a smile that was slowly fading.

The cool morning breeze blew the dry leaves on the street, accompanying Zhi Hao's increasingly distant steps, as if he understood the burden he was carrying.

“Elder Mo. Make sure he doesn't come back!”

An Elder suddenly appeared, he was Zhi Long's protector. “Yes Young Master.” Elder Mo disappeared again like smoke.

**

Young Master Zhi Hao with firm steps left the magnificent Zhi Clan residence. "On his back, he was carrying a leather bag containing clothes and a sword inherited from Madam," someone reported.

behind the window curtains, Patriarch Zhi watched the now distant figure of his last son, trying hard to hide his anguish. With heavy feelings, he ordered his personal guards to protect Zhi Hao from a distance without him knowing.

“Go and make sure he is safe,” Patriarch Zhi ordered in a firm but worried voice. The bodyguard nodded as he bowed, then immediately moved quickly and efficiently, following the Young Master's footsteps from a distance.

After the Guards left, Patriarch Zhi returned to the solitude of his study. He stood at the edge of the window, looking at the sky that was starting to darken about to rain, talking to himself, "I'm sorry, Wei. I promised to look after your son, but I couldn't do it."

***

in the heart of Linggau City, the Zhi Clan spreads its wings as an invincible clan, rivaled only by one more Clan at the top of the hierarchy.

The deadly Lightning Sword Technique, the proud symbol of the Zhi Clan, was a perfect combination of the speed of lightning and the ferocity of a storm.

However, unfortunately, the Zhi Clan's eldest son was known as 'Trash.' A heartbreaking and painful title, which if it didn't exist, the Zhi Clan might have long occupied the supreme throne.

His name was Zhi Hao, and the reputation as 'Trash' accompanied him like a dark shadow.

At that time, in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the Linggau City market.

Bang!

A brutal kick landed on Zhi Hao's back. A roar of surprise echoed through the crowd.

With burning determination, Zhi Hao got up. His eyes flashed with fire as he shot the perpetrator a sharp gaze. "Why did you kick me?" he raged as he tightly gripped the hilt of the sword left behind by his mother.

"Kicking 'Trash' needs a reason?" replied the kicker sarcastically, flanked by two guards ready to draw swords.

Furious, Zhi Hao gritted his teeth, burning shame and anger roiling in his chest. With dust-stained clothes and wounded pride, Zhi Hao knew that the day was not just about surviving, but about recovering the honor that had been trampled on. However, what can he do without strength?

"He's nothing. Trash that's not worth even touching!" Xiao Bei laughed at the insulted Zhi Hao, his arrogance spreading like a plague.

Zhi Hao suppressed his anger, chewed a pill of bitterness, and walked away without a word.

"Tch, how embarrassing! They say the strongest Clan? but look, he received insults without replying!" Xiao Bei insulted in a cynical tone, adding insult to injury to the already torn pride.

Zhi Hao gritted his teeth, trying to suppress the turmoil in his chest.

"Brother Bei, how dare he? His family just threw him away fighting Brother Bei, isn't that the same as giving in to humiliation?" Xiao Lui chimed in, standing to the side, his eyes flashing with disbelief.

Around them, a crowd began to gather, watching this heartbreaking scene. However, no one cared or made a move to help Zhi Hao, the "useless trash of the Zhi Clan". Her privacy and dignity had all been stolen in front of an indifferent public.