On a flight bound for Lin’an, a young man sat quietly by the window.
He was dressed in simple, neat casual clothes. Nothing flashy, nothing that drew attention.
But his face was far too striking to ignore.
Clean-cut features. Calm posture. And a pair of eyes that absolutely did not belong to someone his age—deep, worn, and heavy with things most people would never survive, let alone understand.
From time to time, Ethan Upton lowered his gaze and flipped a page of the book resting on his knees. He looked young, but the air around him was old, steady, almost intimidating.
Twenty years ago, when he was only five, he had been taken from the woods outside an orphanage by a mysterious old man.
After that, his life had plunged straight into hell.
No warmth. No softness. No childhood to speak of.
Only brutal training, day after day, year after year.
Ten years later, after being tempered like steel in a furnace, he received the first mission of his life from that old man.
From then on, he moved through the dark world like a ghost no one could stop.
With nothing but his iron fists, he crushed the united forces of countless underground powers from different nations.
Seven years ago, he founded Asura Hall.
And within Asura Hall, the Five Yamas were each top-tier monsters in their own right.
Asura.
That name alone had once pressed down on an entire era.
One man covering the sky with one hand, standing above tens of thousands.
Only later did Ethan learn the old man’s true identity.
That mysterious elder was actually the current War God of Great Xia.
And Ethan was his one and only successor.
This return to his homeland was not just his own decision. It was also the old War God’s will.
As the plane drew closer and closer to Great Xia, Ethan looked out the window, his gaze quiet, but his thoughts were anything but calm.
He could never forget those seven older sisters of his.
Not for a single day.
Back when he was still a child, he had made a vow in his heart—
that he would spend his whole life protecting them.
Now, he was back.
Not for sightseeing. Not for rest.
He had returned to fulfill that promise.
Twenty years was a long time.
Long enough for the world to flip upside down.
Long enough for people to change beyond recognition.
Long enough for old bonds to be buried by time… or tested by it.
According to the Shura Hall’s ridiculously powerful intel network, Ethan Upton’s seven older sisters had all made names for themselves in their own fields.
Every single one of them was doing insanely well.
Except for the second sister, Elaine Sutton, and the seventh sister, Charlotte Marlowe.
Even now, there was still no news about them.
Their information flashed through Ethan’s mind one after another. He lifted a hand and pressed his brow, a faint headache creeping in.
Not one of them was easy to worry about.
Inside the inner flap of a book, there was an old yellowed photo.
On it were eight young faces, smiling without a care in the world.
…
At the airport.
Ethan stood where he was, looking at the endless stream of people flowing past him like a river that never stopped. Then he reached into his pocket, took out a pair of glasses, and put them on.
The moment he did, the air around him seemed to change.
His presence was deep and steady, heavy without being loud, and an emperor-like pressure rose from him out of nowhere, calm yet impossible to ignore.
Not far away, a black Rolls-Royce Phantom pulled up.
The door opened.
A sexy woman stepped out, dressed in a black skin-tight nano combat suit, black sunglasses covering half her face. She turned toward Ethan, then removed the shades.
Her eyes were revealed.
They were red—red like they had been washed in blood, burning like fire. Just one look from her, and people could almost feel that crushing killing intent, like a steel torrent rolling straight at them.
Elora Lorne.
The woman in charge of the Rongcheng branch of Shura Hall.
Elora walked up to Ethan. The icy, dangerous aura on her body disappeared in an instant. In front of him, she was obedient, almost soft, like a little cat that had finally found its owner.
“Young Master,” she said quietly, “we’re still investigating the whereabouts of the second sister and the seventh sister.”
Ethan gave a flat response. “Mm. The second you find them, report to me immediately.”
“Yes!”
He gave a slight nod, casually took the car keys she handed him, and started walking toward the Rolls-Royce.
His aura was simply too strong.
So strong that no one dared pass close to him.
The crowd clearly hadn’t been told to move, but people instinctively stepped aside anyway. As he walked forward, a blank space naturally opened around him, four to five meters wide, like an invisible barrier had been drawn with him at the center.
In the corner of the plaza, an old blind man in a torn trench coat and black sunglasses kept muttering under his breath,
“Heaven’s might must not be offended… all living beings retreat…”
I was born kind, yet I slaughtered the masses.
I was born dust, yet I stand above the world.