Warlord of Dragons: The Barren Domain Awakens

In the industrial zone of Grey Harbor, the sky seemed to have collapsed, corroded by years of acid rain. Thick, low-hanging clouds threatened to unleash their tentacles and devour everything on the ground.

The car door opened, and heavy air instantly filled the armored vehicle. I stepped out, the hem of my black trench coat scraping against the puddle, making a dull thud. I didn't use an umbrella, letting the corrosive raindrops pelt my shoulders. My fingertips traced the worn-out lighter; the cool metal brought a slight sobering effect to my body, repeatedly reshaped by the battlefield.

Five years. The gunfire and smoke of the border trenches had long since washed away the hypocrisy and refinement I once possessed as the eldest son of the Vance family. Now, I am a steel blade, worn smooth by time, devoid of all warmth, returning to this wasteland that once crushed me with greed and betrayal.

The old building that once belonged to me, the architectural firm, now stood crookedly in the rain, its red paint washed away like bleeding wounds.

"The Vance family's mess, daring to put on airs in front of me?"

A piercing shout cut through the rain. I looked up and saw a group of thugs in black leather jackets surrounding Elena, the naive girl from five years ago, on the firm's steps. Miller, the leader, looked like a fat, vile wild boar, his murky eyes brazenly eyeing Elena's collar.

He grinned maliciously, snatched the yellowed land title contract from Elena's hand, and tore it to shreds like trash in front of her. The scraps of paper fluttered in the damp, cold air. Then, with a sudden burst of strength, he shoved Elena violently into the mud below the steps.

"Don't push your luck. Hand over the confidential blueprints, or this dilapidated building will be your grave tonight."

A chorus of mocking whistles and vulgar insults against women filled the air. Miller raised his boot, about to stomp on Elena's muddy palm.

In that instant, I moved.

Without warning, without preamble. Like a black lightning bolt compressed to its limit, I appeared instantly in Miller's blind spot, hidden by the torrential rain. At that moment, the surrounding air seemed to freeze because of my murderous intent.

Miller's henchman, barely noticing the anomaly, before even unholstering his gun, was frozen in time. I grabbed his throat with one hand, and in the blink of an eye, before anyone could even see what I was doing, I slammed him against the crumbling wall.

"Bang—!"

The muffled crash of the collapsing wall was completely swallowed by the deafening sound of the rain. The thug didn't even have time to scream before half his body was embedded in the decaying brickwork. Crimson liquid mingled with the gray-black rainwater, staining the ground a horrifying sight.

Behind me, the "Shadow" task force, who had been following me, appeared like ghosts. These were killing machines honed in the border killing zone; the faint hum of their silenced weapons was short and deadly. Without any direct confrontation, these thugs lay neatly paralyzed in the mud like harvested withered grass.

The scene fell into a deathly silence, broken only by the sound of the heavy rain pounding against the metal floor.

Miller slumped to the ground, his flabby flesh convulsing with intense fear. He stared at me, his fingertips trembling like leaves, his voice a raspy, bellows-like scream: "You...who are you? You beast crawled back from hell...Do you know what position Julian holds now? If you dare touch me, he'll skin you alive and feed you to the dogs!"

I stepped up to him, looking down at this once arrogant piece of trash. Rain dripped from the brim of my hat. I picked up the mud-stained fragment of the contract, my slender fingers carefully wiping away the grime, my eyes as cold as an abyss.

“Tell Julian,” I leaned down, my voice as soft as a whisper from the underworld, “that he should stuff every penny of profit he swallowed five years ago, along with the exorbitant interest accrued over the years, into the settlement cabinet at the Grey Harbor Cemetery. Because he’ll be there soon. Remember to prepare a coffin; his empty shell is only fit to be used in that wasteland.”

I slowly rose, walked past the trembling Miller, and went to Elena. I took off my trench coat and gently draped it over her shoulders, shielding her from all the covetous glances from the shadows.

Meanwhile, in the shadows at the other end of the street, a discreet car slowly slid into the blind spot of the streetlights.

The man stared at the high-definition holographic monitor screen inside. When that chillingly murderous figure came into view, his hand, which had been swirling the expensive red wine, jerked violently. The crystal-encrusted glass shattered in his palm, and blood mixed with the wine dripped onto the leather seat cover.

A chill, like a steel needle, pierced his very bones.