I Dominate Them All!

Rain seeped through a gap in the shattered remains of the Smith family manor, splashing onto a long, thirty-eight-seat dining table.

The decayed and waterlogged wood, though burnt, still had bloodstains.

A tall, handsome man in a black trench coat stood silently, staring at it. His cold blue eyes had been fixated on the table for hours, his figure as still as a statue.

A hot air of power and authority surrounded him.

This man was Orion Smith, the sole survivor of his family’s massacre.

After a decade of forging an empire through fiery military conquests, Orion now stood in the room where his life had endured its most agonizing turning point.

Where he had watched his entire family slaughtered before his eyes while he hid, powerless.

Guilt stabbed at his chest, and he gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw tightly. His fingers curled into fists, so tense that his knuckles turned white. Then, with a sharp exhale, he released his fists, dropped to his knees, and bowed.

Bang!

Orion slammed his forehead against the floor with such force that cracks, streaked with blue flames, tore through the floor and spread outward.

The impact caused the entire house to tremble, dislodging bits of wood that fell onto his jet black hair.

Kowtowing, he recalled bitterly, “Dad, Mum, Grandpa... I’ve returned.”

“Ten years ago, today, y’all hosted a banquet to celebrate our company’s successful listing. The night was full of laughter and cheers—until they arrived. Those damn devils with incandescent white eyes and combat knives forced their way into the manor.”

“Y’all had quickly pulled me under the table, beneath the sheets.”

“At first, there was only silence, but then the chaos began. Heavy footsteps pounded across the floor, followed by piercing screams that echoed as throats were slit.”

Tears pricked in his eyes, his emotions fueling his inferno. Soon, the room’s temperature plummeted, and dirt combust into flames that crawled and consumed the wet furniture.

He forced himself to speak, his voice trembling with rage and sorrow. “One by one, thirty-eight bodies fell with dull thuds, their blood painting the floor. And it grew hotter as the devils also set the house ablaze and sealed it shut.”

“I… I crawled out,” he choked, his voice breaking. “crying, and tried to save at least one of you. But it was too late. Your bodies lay scattered on the floor, dead.”

“I tried to flee, to find help, but it wasn’t possible. Smoke soon filled my lungs, and I could barely breathe. My body gave out, and I collapsed. Just as I was about to join all of you, glass shattered, and gentle arms lifted me out.”

“Days later, in the hospital, I was visited by the faceless alchemist who took me to the mountains and trained me in the Dragon Mantra. Two years later, I had risen to the top of my class. My master then advised me to forge my own path, and that’s exactly what I did, father.”

He paused; smoke seeped from his coat as a whirlwind of blue flames formed, surrounding him with a ghostly glow. His voice was chilling as he spoke:

“It’s been a decade, but I kneel before y’all as the Supreme Dragon General, leader of the Iron Phoenix Legion, slayer of five million men, forger of this empire that now encapsulates this city, and the last wielder of the Dragon Inferno.”

Orion leaned back, his cold gaze sweeping across each seat at the dining table.

“Now, I’ll make the people behind your deaths pay and repay my debt of gratitude to the lady who jumped into the fire to save me that night.” He kowtowed once for each seat, then rose. “This is my promise.”

Orion strode outside, the flames vanishing the moment his foot crossed the doors. Rain hammered against the convoy of dark, bulletproof luxury cars lined up in the driveway, where heavily armed men stood guard, waiting for him.

Before he could escape the downpour, a man built like a fortress hurried toward him, umbrella in hand.

He wore a military uniform adorned with numerous medals, each a testament to his battlefield prowess.

This man was Admiral Flag, Orion’s right-hand man and the esteemed commander of his legion.

“Reports, General,” Flag saluted crisply. “In your absence from the capital, extra troops have been rallied to the empire’s borders to ensure its security. Somehow, news of your departure has reached the Five Dukes, stirring tensions among the empire’s five states. However, I’ve issued an imperial edict in your name. It will, hopefully, pacify them until your return.”

“Good,” Orion gave a curt nod. “Do you have what I requested?”

“Yes, General.” Flag retrieved a folder from his coat pocket and handed it over. Orion opened it, scanning the contents as Flag explained.

“Our investigation leads us to believe the person who saved you that night was Chloe Carmichael, the eldest granddaughter of the Carmichaels—a second-class family now on the brink of bankruptcy.”

“Hm.” Orion flipped through the pages.

Flag continued, “Well, General, in this city, Miss Chloe was considered the jewel of West Arcadia City because of her astonishing beauty, intelligence, and selfless heart. But after the night of the fire, when she saved you… she…”

Orion reached the last page, his eyes resting on an image of Chloe’s current state. Guilt tore at his heart, casting a pained shadow over his face. “Continue,” he managed to utter.

“Chloe suffered fourth-degree burns as fiery debris fell on her while she pulled you out, taking half her skin. She also sustained brain trauma that left her partially impaired. Locals now refer to her as ‘Ragdoll.’ For the last decade, she’s endured maltreatment from her family and peers. Also,” Flag hesitated, “She’s to be auctioned off at the city’s hall today.”

Orion’s eyes darkened. “Auction?”

“Yes. As I mentioned, the family is on the brink of bankruptcy. They’d decided to auction her off. It’d provide them enough money to settle their debts.”

Orion clenched the folder, and the papers ignited under his palm, crumbling to ash.

His eyes met Flag’s. “Prepare. I’ll meet you at the villa.”

Flag saluted sharply as Orion rushed into one of the convoy’s cars, a sleek black Audi. The vehicle roared to life and sped off at maximum speed, his mind fixated on one thing: rescue Chloe.

Minutes later, he arrived at the city hall.

Orion took a seat among hundreds of perverted city elites. They’d come eager to acquire the once Jewel of Arcadia so as to use what remained of her to satisfy their twisted sexual fantasies.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” an agile auctioneer stepped onto the hall’s podium, his voice smooth and commanding. “Let the auction for the Jewel of West Arcadia City begin.”

An orange spotlight lit on his side, illuminating a woman seated on a stool, her head bowed. She’s dressed in a bridal gown, but despite the silk and veil, clear patches of ragged, burnt flesh were visible.

This lady was Chloe Carmichael, the once Jewel of West Arcadia City, now a broken, forsaken ragdoll.

Chloe had leapt into that fire a decade ago, driven by her selfless heart. But that simple act of kindness came at a devastating cost. The flames ravaged her skin, disfigured her, and left her with brain trauma.

Her tragedy ultimately led to her family’s downfall. Their reputation crumbled, their wealth evaporated, and they spiraled into bankruptcy.

Out of spite, Chloe’s family made sure she would never forget that, in their eyes, she was the cause of it all. They denied her proper medical treatment, often left her without food for days, and subjected her to constant verbal abuse.

She became severely depressed and even tried to end her life, but she was so weak she could barely lift the cyanide pill.

Now, after a decade of torment, her family had deemed her too much of a burden and decided to sell her off, abandoning her here.

Something wet gathered in Chloe’s eyes. She couldn’t wipe them, so they fell freely down her cheeks.

Meanwhile, in his seat, Orion couldn’t take his eyes off Chloe.

He noticed her scars and the tears streaming down her face. It tore at him to see what had become of the person who had once saved his life.

Her suffering couldn’t go on for another second.

He had to get her out of this place.

The auctioneer began with a starting bid of, “One hundred thousand dollars!”

Orion raised his hand absentmindedly, declaring, “One hundred million dollars,” and the hall erupted into chaos. Shocked gasps filled the room as every elite eye trained on him.

Whispers spread:

Who the hell would pay such a high amount for this ragdoll?

Who is this man?

He isn’t one of the city’s Pillar’s sons that’s for such.

He must be a servant, representing his rich master.

The auctioneer, his mouth agape upon hearing such an astronomical bid, quickly snapped it shut. Realizing no one else dared to match the offer, he shouted, “Sold!”

Upon hearing this, Chloe shook involuntarily. This is it, my life is over, she thought.

Orion settled the payment and hurried to Chloe. She had saved his life; the money was nothing. If she wanted, he could give her his empire just to repay his debt of gratitude.

Crouched in her seat, Chloe watched the silhouette of a towering, robust man approach. As he stepped into the light, his cold yet strangely sympathetic countenance came into view.

He knelt before her, and she stiffened, fear tightening her posture. With a gentle touch, he wrapped her hands in his, staring into her eyes. “You’ve suffered, Chloe Carmichael. But it ends today. From this moment onward, I will protect you and restore what you’d lost. That’s my solemn promise to you.”

Chloe was so taken aback that tears welled up in her eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had called her by her real name or looked at her with such tender grace. But this man, with an air of quiet authority, did. He cared.

She quickly nodded, tears streaming down her face as she smiled through them.

Orion effortlessly scooped her up in a bridal style and carried her out.