Reaching the shop, Liam saw that the damage was far more extensive than the partially destroyed signboard he'd noticed from a distance. The wooden door hung askew on broken hinges, one side completely torn from its frame. Splinters littered the entrance like the remnants of an explosion. Through the damaged doorway, the interior looked like a warzone—overturned furniture, scattered debris, and the unmistakable signs of violence.

Liam stood motionless on the street, staring at the destruction. His jaw tightened as he processed what he was seeing. The worst-case scenario he'd been trying not to imagine was playing out before his eyes.

Guilt settled over him like a physical weight pressing down on his shoulders. This was his fault. The assassins had come here because of him. They'd targeted Master Han specifically because of the connection between them.

If he had been here... If he hadn't left for so long, he could have stopped this. He would have handled the assassins and protected Master Han.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles going white with the force of his grip. For a moment, he just stood there, eyes closed, wrestling with the anger and guilt churning in his chest.

He needed to see the full extent of the damage. Needed to know what had happened. Most importantly, he needed to know if Master Han was alive.

Liam opened his eyes and took a step toward the shop's entrance, and that was when he heard a rattling sound coming from inside.

Without hesitation, Liam stepped through the destroyed doorway into the shop's interior.

The scene inside was worse than he'd imagined. What had once been a pristine workshop filled with carefully organized tools and beautifully crafted weapons now looked like the aftermath of a tornado.

Display racks had been knocked over, their contents scattered across the floor. Several weapons lay in pieces, their blades shattered or bent beyond repair. The wooden counter near the back had been split down the middle as if someone had brought a massive hammer down on it.

But most disturbing of all was the forge.

Master Han's forge was cold and dark, with ash and debris covering its surface. The sight of it made Liam's chest tighten. A blacksmith's forge going cold wasn't just a practical problem. It was symbolic.

In the middle of this destruction stood Luo, Master Han's apprentice. The teenager was crouched near an overturned weapons rack, methodically gathering undamaged pieces and storing them in a spatial ring.

"Luo," Liam called out.

The young man's head snapped up, his eyes finding Liam immediately. For a brief moment, surprise flashed across his features. Then his eyes narrowed, taking in Liam's appearance with obvious confusion. Something was different about the person standing in the doorway. Luo couldn't quite identify what had changed, but his instincts were screaming that this wasn't quite the same person who'd left months ago.

But that confusion lasted only a heartbeat before it was consumed by something much stronger.

Rage.

Pure, undiluted anger flooded Luo's features. His hands curled into fists so tight his arms trembled. His jaw clenched. Every muscle in his body went rigid as memories of what had happened crashed over him like waves—the assassins breaking down the door, Master Han fighting desperately to protect his shop, the systematic destruction of everything they'd built.

All because of the man standing in front of him.

Luo stood abruptly, dropping the spatial ring in his haste. Words were already forming on his tongue, accusations and rage ready to pour out in a torrent that had been building for weeks.

But the moment he opened his mouth to speak, something stopped him, as an invisible force pressed down on him like the weight of the sky itself.

Luo could feel it as clearly as if someone had placed a mountain on his shoulders. The pressure made his bones ache. His breath caught in his chest. Words died in his throat before they could form into sound.

His head lowered involuntarily, his neck muscles refusing to hold his gaze level. He tried to fight it, tried to force his head back up through sheer willpower, but it was like trying to push back against gravity itself.

All he could do was stand there with his head bowed, fists still clenched at his sides, teeth grinding together so hard his jaw hurt. The rage inside him burned hotter than ever, but he couldn't express it. Couldn't shout. Couldn't even look Liam in the eye.

Liam saw Luo's struggle and sighed internally. The racial aura was doing exactly what it was designed to do. But right now, that was the last thing Liam wanted. He needed answers, needed to understand what had happened. And more than that, he needed Luo to know he was genuinely here to help.

He started walking forward slowly, his footsteps quiet on the debris-covered floor. His eyes swept across the destroyed shop, taking in every detail. Broken weapons. Overturned furniture. Scorch marks on the walls that suggested fire techniques had been used. The cold, dead forge that spoke of weeks—maybe months—of inactivity.

Each detail painted a clearer picture, and it was worse than he'd feared.

Liam reached Luo's position and stopped a few steps away, close enough to speak comfortably but far enough to not seem threatening. "How are you?" he asked, his voice gentle. "How is Master Han?"

Luo didn't respond. His jaw worked silently, teeth grinding, but no sound came out. The suppression was still too strong.

Several seconds passed in tense silence. Then, finally, words burst from Luo's lips like water breaking through a dam.

"Why do you even care?!"

The question came out raw and accusatory, loaded with all the pain and anger the young man had been carrying. His voice cracked slightly on the last word.

Liam gave a small smile, though there was no humor in it. The question hung in the air between them, and he found himself unable to immediately answer. What could he say? That he'd been dealing with cosmic transformations? That he'd been traveling between universes? That he hadn't meant for any of this to happen?

Every possible response felt inadequate. Hollow. Like making excuses when there was no excuse good enough.

He sighed softly. "How are you? How is Master Han?"

The repeated question, delivered in the same gentle tone, seemed to ignite something in Luo. The young man's entire body went rigid. His head lifted slightly despite the suppressive aura, fury giving him temporary strength to resist.

"Stop!" Luo shouted, his voice ragged. "Stop pretending you care! Just stop!"

His breathing had become labored, each word requiring visible effort to force out against the invisible weight pressing down on him. "When Master Han was being tormented—when those assassins came here looking for you and he had to face them alone—where were you?!"

Tears of rage and frustration had begun forming at the corners of Luo's eyes. "You vanished! You just disappeared when you were needed the most! And now Master Han's shop is destroyed! He can't even work anymore because if he does, they'll come back! They said they'd come back if he even lights the forge!"

Luo's voice rose to a near scream despite the pressure trying to silence him. "It's all your fault! Everything that happened to us is because of you!"

Liam closed his eyes briefly. Each word hit him like a physical blow, not because they were wrong, but because they were absolutely right. This was his fault. No matter how he framed it or what justifications he offered, the fundamental truth remained—Master Han and Luo had suffered because of their connection to him.

He wanted to respond, to explain, to somehow make Luo understand that he hadn't meant for any of this to happen. But what good would that do? The angry young man in front of him wouldn't hear explanations as anything other than excuses. And honestly, Liam couldn't blame him for that.

Better to focus on the immediate situation. Get the full story. Understand exactly what had happened. Then he could decide on his next actions.

But one thing was already absolutely certain in his mind, carved into his thoughts with the finality of a death sentence.

He was going to war with the Devouring Petal Pavilion. Not just attacking them. Not just disrupting their operations. He was going to completely and utterly destroy them. They wouldn't be able to conduct business anywhere in Grand Xia or the world as a whole. And if anyone—any person, any organization, even the Emperor himself—tried to stop him from achieving that goal, they would become his enemy too.

The decision crystallized in his mind with perfect clarity. There would be no negotiation, no mercy, no half-measures.

Liam looked at Luo, meeting the young man's downcast eyes with steady calm. "You're right," he said quietly. "This is my fault. All of it. I won't try to deny that or make excuses."

He paused, letting those words sink in before continuing. "But I want to fix this. I need to fix this. So please—tell me how Master Han is. Tell me what happened."

Luo's knees buckled, and he collapsed to the floor, unable to maintain his stance any longer. The more hostile he became toward Liam, the more antagonistic his intentions, the stronger the suppression grew in response.

It was as if Liam's aura could sense threats and automatically escalated to neutralize them. Luo's building rage and mental images of attacking Liam had triggered exactly that response.

The pressure had increased to the point where even breathing was becoming difficult for the him.

Luo knelt on the debris-covered floor, one hand braced against the ground to keep from falling completely. A bitter laugh escaped his lips—harsh, mocking, directed entirely at himself.

He'd imagined this moment so many times over the past weeks. In his fantasies, when Liam finally returned, Luo would confront him. Maybe even attack him. He'd make the man understand the suffering he'd caused, make him feel even a fraction of the pain Master Han had endured.

But reality was crushing those fantasies into dust. He couldn't even speak properly, let alone fight. The gap between them was so vast it might as well have been infinite. All his rage, all his hatred, all his desire for justice—none of it mattered in the face of this overwhelming power.

He felt utterly useless.

Liam saw Luo collapse and immediately lowered himself, crouching down to bring himself to the young man's eye level. He reached out and placed a hand on Luo's shoulder, the touch gentle despite the power difference between them.

"Calm down," Liam said softly. "The anger is making this worse. I need you to take a breath and tell me everything that happened. Don't leave anything out."

The physical contact seemed to help. The suppressive aura lessened slightly where Liam's hand rested, giving Luo enough space to breathe more easily.

Luo nodded shakily, his anger giving way to exhaustion. He took several deep breaths, steadying himself before he began to speak.

And then, slowly and painfully, he told Liam everything.

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.