Chapter 1: A Family of Loyal Martyrs

“Jiang Weiguo, forty-eight years old, Grandmaster of the Martial Path, died on the northern battlefield, June twenty-first!”
“Jiang Zhenshan, forty-five years old, Grandmaster of the Martial Path, died on the southern battlefield, June twenty-first!”
“…”
“Jiang Yue, thirty-six years old, Inner Force Martial Artist, died on the western frontier, June twenty-first!”
A deafening hum filled the air. Over a hundred military helicopters circled overhead, the atmosphere oppressive, dark clouds gathering as though heaven and earth themselves were weeping.
The Jiang family—first among the Dragon Nation’s military clans—had been betrayed by unknown forces. In a single day, dozens of direct descendants had perished on the battlefield, the family almost wiped out.
“Master Jiang, this has shaken the entire court. The First has already issued the order: at any cost, vengeance for the Jiang family will be exacted. Please accept our deepest condolences…”
In the Jiang family’s front courtyard, the mood was so heavy it was suffocating.
Old Master Jiang Guofeng sat expressionless in the seat of honor, before him an array of more than a dozen memorial tablets. Beside him, General Zhao Qintian’s face was etched with sorrow as he bowed his head. “It happened so suddenly, the enemy’s plan was meticulous. We have not yet managed to recover the bodies of the fallen generals…”
The vast courtyard, aside from the several dozen soldiers come to pay their respects, was occupied only by a handful of grieving widows from the Ye family—it felt empty, hollow.
In the imperial capital, city of nobles and grand houses, not a single power had come to offer condolences for the Jiang family’s devastating losses.
“The men of the Jiang family have always been loyal to the nation. To die on the battlefield is to die with honor—this was the greatest accomplishment of their lives.”
Jiang Guofeng was silent for a moment before he spoke, his voice calm yet drained, the veins on the back of his hand bulging as he gripped the chair. “But it’s clear this was a carefully orchestrated massacre—a noose meant for the Jiang family!”
He paused, his voice beginning to tremble. “Besides outside forces, we have serious problems within as well…”
Zhao Qintian said nothing, his gaze sweeping over the courtyard’s women before settling on a young man.
Though handsome, the youth was slovenly dressed, his eyes dull and lifeless, drool trailing from the corner of his mouth—a picture of idiocy.
This was now the Jiang family’s only surviving son, their sole direct grandson—Jiang Chen!
Once hailed as the Dragon Nation’s most extraordinary prodigy, he became an External Force Martial Artist at twelve, and at eighteen, stepped into the ranks of the Inner Force Martial Artists. If not for that car accident, he might already have been a Grandmaster.
Zhao Qintian let out an almost inaudible sigh. In hindsight, even that accident was likely no mere coincidence.
What kind of force could possibly drive the Jiang family to such utter ruin?
The thought sent a chill down Zhao Qintian’s spine.

…
A sudden hum, and unnoticed by all, the foolish youth in the crowd trembled, clarity slowly returning to his eyes.
“Is the Deification Seal really so dreadful? It sealed my soul for five whole years!”
Jiang Chen’s heart was stifled. He might well be the last cultivator among modern humans; five years ago, while studying a Deification Seal, he’d misstepped and sealed his own soul. And thus, five years had passed in darkness.
Fortunately, those years of seclusion bore fruit. Now, he had entered the realm of Martial Grandmaster, approaching perfection, his strength sufficient to rank among the top three in the Dragon Nation.
Despite the soul seal, he had remained aware of all that transpired in the world, and he had pieced together the current situation.
His body trembled, his eyes reddening as fury surged within him.
His father, uncles—the pillars of the Jiang family—were all gone!
No matter how many or how powerful the masterminds behind this massacre, he would avenge the loyal souls of the Jiang clan!
He could not act rashly. He had to remain calm. Only after a long while did Jiang Chen steady himself.
He glanced around—his mother, his aunts, and several sisters-in-law, all with white mourning cloths about their heads. Though their faces were haggard, each wore a look of resolute strength, not weakness.
The Jiang family’s reputation as the foremost military clan was no empty boast. Even with all their men lost in battle, they still carried themselves with a soldier’s dignity.
“Begin the funeral rites!”
Lost in thought, Old Master Jiang Guofeng slowly rose to his feet. His clouded gaze swept over the memorial tablets, and with pain buried deep in his heart, he roared out.
The family members, following his lead, picked up the memorial tablets and walked slowly out of the Jiang estate.
Aside from Zhao Qintian and his unit, not a single power from the imperial capital attended the funeral—a stark, bitter emptiness.
Clearly, with the Jiang family’s generals fallen, all other factions kept their distance, fearing to attract the attention of the unknown enemy. The risk far outweighed any possible gain.
Moreover, with all the men dead, only the aged and a single foolish grandson remained in the Jiang family. Its decline seemed inevitable, its demise a foregone conclusion.
To put it bluntly, the Jiang family was no longer the illustrious military house it once was…
“Father, dear kin, rest assured!”
At the funeral, the women in mourning wept uncontrollably, the entire scene draped in desolation.

Jiang Chen knelt before the tombstones, bowing deeply, his eyes red with blood. “I, Jiang Chen, swear that every enemy will pay with their lives for this blood debt!”
“The Jiang family will not fall…”
His mother, Chen Ruolin, stood not far off, her face drawn with grief as her gaze lingered on Jiang Chen, a hint of confusion in her red-rimmed eyes.
She had sensed something different about her son—he seemed almost lucid again.
No, that couldn’t be. So many famed doctors had failed to cure his foolishness. She must be imagining things. Chen Ruolin bit her lip, her heart sinking into despair.
Could the Jiang family still protect her boy in the days to come? Husband, watch over our son from the heavens…
Suddenly, there was a commotion at the entrance!

“Master Jiang, we’ve heard that every man of the Jiang family died on the battlefield—our Xu family, as your in-laws, are deeply grieved!”
Under the astonished gazes of all present, a middle-aged man strode briskly into the gathering with a beautiful young woman at his side.
His tone was insincere, almost gloating. “Fortunately, my daughter and your grandson never married, or our Xu family would have been dragged down as well!”
This was Xu Mingzhe, head of the Xu family of the capital, and beside him was his eldest daughter, Xu Jiaying.
“Xu Mingzhe, the loyal dead of the Jiang family have not yet been laid to rest, and you come to withdraw the marriage? Isn’t that rather hasty?”
The aged Master Jiang’s face was impassive, sorrow in his heart as he forced himself to speak: “Let us discuss this another day. If you have nothing else, please leave.”
Given the Jiang family’s stature, had Jiang Chen not been a fool, they would have had their pick of alliances among the elite houses.
Yet, due to Jiang Chen’s condition, they’d had to agree to the Xu family’s proposal. Back then, Xu Mingzhe had spared no effort to curry favor, bringing his daughter to visit daily, all to secure the marriage.
Now, with the Jiang family devastated, their in-laws rushed to break the engagement?
“Heh, you decrepit old man, still think you’re someone important?”
Now Xu Jiaying spoke, her lovely face full of scorn. “The Jiang family is now nothing but old, weak, sick, and crippled, yet you still seek to climb above your station? That fool Jiang Chen is worthy of marrying me?”
“Today, you must agree to annul this engagement! Otherwise, there’s no need to hold this funeral at all!”