The Pure Realm Of Cultivator!

The scary part in life

"Father?"

Many of the attendees were surprised. This well-kept secret was about to be revealed to the public. The consequences could be dire for the Edmon family, particularly for the ongoing business endeavors.

"Guards, get rid of this insolent child and punish him for his actions!"

Edmon's shout shattered a tiny hope within Zeion. His face once filled with hope, transformed into an unimaginable disappointment. He wondered why his father could say something like that?

Not long, a guard arrived and roughly dragged Zeion's arm, forcefully pulling the young boy along.

He wasn't oblivious to the fact that Zeion was Edmon's son, but as a guardian of that family, any command had to be obeyed.

"Ouch! Let me go..." Zeion struggled, attempting to break free, but he lacked the strength. Whispers and astonished glances surrounded him; he felt like discarded refuse.

Indeed, in fear, Zeion turned to Rosa, seeking solace from the woman he thought might save him. Unfortunately, all he received was indifference from Rosa. It was the same as Edmon's view—not that of a son, but a nuisance.

"So that's how it is!"

Kaboom...

An explosion shattered everyone's focus. Even the servants who were not in the room were startled.

Enia present in that room, turned towards the source of the explosion. Smoke billowed, causing panic. Shouts filled the air, and Enia hurried towards the commotion.

A surge of anger sparked by Zeion caused chaos. A massive fire engulfed him, and those caught in the blast were thrown back with burn wounds.

Hysterical screams echoed as people tried to flee. Yet escape was impossible; the flames driven by Zeion's power blocked the way.

Edmon and Rosa could not fathom how the event they waited for had turned into a living nightmare.

Helpless, the cries of those present couldn't quell Zeion's rage.

The boy stood silently amid the self-spreading flames, not needing to channel energy. He allowed the fire to consume anyone within its range.

"Young Master..."

The voice shattered Zeion's intense anger. He turned to see Enia standing by the door.

Silent and unresponsive to Enia's plea, his eyes stared menacingly with a haunting white glow.

"Young Master, please stop this! Don't hurt them with your magic. Remember, I've told you that magic is meant to protect, not harm! Please, don't hurt them..."

Zeion's gaze slowly shifted, observing his surroundings. Fear-stricken faces confronted him, but in the face of his power, no one dared to resist.

Gradually, a miracle occurred. The once towering flames diminished until they vanished. The room was left with soot and smoke from the blaze.

Zeion's consciousness faded too, overwhelmed by the immense energy he had unleashed.

Enia couldn't understand what had transpired. Fear had gripped the gathering, and she was sure that Zeion wouldn't escape punishment.

Indeed, 10 hours after the incident, Zeion faced the consequences. He awoke in an unfamiliar room—not his usual quarters, but a dark chamber. Iron chains clung to his wrists and ankles. It was a cell designed to hold thieves.

"Why am I here? Let me go..." His small voice echoed, receiving no response. He scanned the surroundings, confirming the reality. It wasn't a dream. He was alone in the suffocating darkness.

"Why are they so cruel to me? All I wanted was to join the celebration!" Tears welled in his eyes. He didn't know that this moment revealed an anomaly. The tears that fell emitted a natural energy that shimmered, casting light in the distance.

Since that incident, Zeion hadn't met Enia again. The guards with stern expressions, were the only ones bringing food. Their demeanor lacked the warmth Enia had provided.

Breakfast consisted of just a piece of bread and a glass of water. It was a cruel torment for a nine-year-old.

Days turned into weeks, then a year. It remained the same. Zeion's body had grown even thinner. His malnourished appearance, pale skin, and eyes devoid of hope revealed his desolation.

Footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor, accompanied by lantern light. Zeion didn't pay much attention, assuming it was another guard bringing food.

True to expectation, someone arrived bearing food, but it wasn't a guard. A stranger exuded an air of mystery. Fixing a sharp gaze on Zeion, the man murmured.

"Hmm... he seems malnourished..." he said, his face close to his clasped fingers.

The accompanying guard didn't answer, but the stranger remained undeterred. Following this, Zeion was released from his confinement. His legs wobbled as he moved step by step.

Zeion staggered, his eyes void of vitality. His face reflected the despair of a lifeless existence.

Voices spoke faintly, not just one but two people. As the cell door opened, a well-dressed man stood before him.

He wasn't a servant; this stranger exuded a mysterious aura. He scrutinized Zeion, his gaze fixed on the boy's eyes.

Zeion's eyes gleamed with a powerful intensity, akin to the radiance of the moon.

"Oi, remove the chains from his wrists and ankles!" The man commanded the guard.

"But..." The guard who had witnessed Zeion's outburst a year ago feel reluctant, and was understandably traumatized. Then he received confronting the cold stare, his spirit wavered, and he begrudgingly obeyed.

The shackles binding Zeion's wrists and ankles fell away. Now freed, he could move about.

"Child, what's your name?" The man inquired, locking his eyes onto Zeion's gaze.

His eyes seemed to radiate an overwhelming power, reminiscent of the moon's luminance.

"I'm Zeion..."

"Very well! Zeion from now on, you must come with me. This place is no longer your home. Let us begin a new life together..."

Zeion was shocked, afraid, and yet elated. One question remained, etched in his mind: why did the man's gaze feel so cold when he spoke those words?

__To Be Continued__