Legend of Icaros

Opening his eyes, the youth found himself on the shore of an island, with total destruction around him.

Holding his head, he slowly sat up, before examining his surroundings, his eyes taking in everything they could.

Trying to suppress his slight headache, he decided that he had somehow arrived at Jade Island after so many accidents.

"Huh," he made a sound, as he felt all over his body, which was covered by tattered grey robes.

One would have thought that with his condition, he would be in a grim mood. Instead, he burst out laughing like a madman.

"Yes! Finally, I've reached the limit of the Body Refinement Realm," he said out loud, with a grin on his face that looked as though it might split his lips.

His thoughts raced in excitement: I guess through all these disasters I've gone through and survived, I've become stronger. The attacks from the Battle Force Sect and the Nine Transformation Demonic Sect, our ship being destroyed by an expert, and even that grueling escape...

"This time around," he said out loud with a smirk on his face, "I guess I am compatible with that mysterious secret technique I found. I can now truly grow strong."

As if mentally unstable, the youth laughed for a long time before making his way out of the destroyed area - by now, his wounds had clearly healed in some unknown way.

As he walked through the ruined land, seeing scorch marks covering the ground, trees sliced clean through, and the obvious traces of a fierce battle, he couldn't help but wonder: Who fought here? And why am I the only one on this shore? There isn't a single survivor in sight...

Unless they all managed to escape already... Maybe Senior Li Han and the other elders made it out, or even that strange participant - Icaros. He was surprisingly strong, after all. But if they survived, why didn't they come looking for me?

Unable to find any answer, he stopped thinking to avoid a splitting headache, and only came to one conclusion: The expert who destroyed their ship was most likely responsible for all the destruction around.

After two hours of searching for any sign of people on the island, and with only an hour left before sunset, the youth finally spotted traces of human activity. He moved faster - his stomach had begun to rumble loudly, and he was desperate to find both people and food.

He followed the tracks until, sure enough, he came upon the legendary mortal village - said to exist deep within one of the world's most dangerous zones.

It was nothing grand, not what one would have expected after surviving the deadly dangers of Jade Island.

It looked almost like a ghost town, with no proper entrance.

Except for one single spot - the only place in the entire town where there were people. A small group of adults and children were gathered together there, seemingly busy with something or about to set off somewhere. Apart from them, the whole settlement was empty. The town felt strangely silent and eerie.

From a distance, the youth spotted the group near the buildings. At first, his expression showed shock - but it quickly turned into disdainful laughter.

It turned out that among them were seven adults, two of them women. Before he knew it, they had surrounded him, all aiming high-powered long rifles straight at him.

"Who are you? You are not from this village," one of the adults asked, his face showing clear intent to shoot at any moment.

The youth just grinned and tightened his fists, clearly intending to take them all on.

"Identify yourself, or we will shoot," another said - his voice sounded a little nervous, but his aim never wavered.

The youth replied casually, "Drop your so-called guns, and then we can talk."

The group couldn't help but hesitate - but they soon overcame that hesitation, as if something was making them act with extreme caution and urgency.

The youth clenched his fists tighter, bent his knees, ready to explode into motion, a predatory grin spreading across his lips. Meanwhile, the men surrounding him were clearly experienced fighters; they stayed sharp and alert, ready to strike at his vital spots the moment he moved.

The atmosphere was tense, and just as the group was about to open fire, an aged, calm voice cut through the silence.

"Hold your fire!"

The youth looked toward the voice and saw a fairly old man who had just come out from among the group.

The trained and experienced men did not take their eyes off the youth; they slowly stepped back, keeping their weapons aimed steadily at him.

The aged man walked steadily and carefully to stand between them. Looking straight at the youth, he said, "I guess you're a cultivator from the outside world."

"Not that dumb," the youth replied bluntly, relaxing his stance just slightly. Seeing this, the men slowly lowered their guns.

"I don't know how you got here," the aged man continued, trying to propose something, but the youth cut him off before he could finish.

"I managed fine on my own," the youth said, clearly unwilling to reveal anything to the old man.

Unfazed, the aged man replied with a smirk, "No matter how strong you are, we will find out everything soon enough. It doesn't matter - what matters is that you need our information and cooperation to achieve whatever goal you have here, and we need your power."

The youth stayed silent for a few seconds, as if thinking it through, before shrugging and saying, "I guess I will agree - but not without first testing these weapons that mortals hold in such high regard."

With that, and without any warning, the youth dashed forward at incredible speed, closing in on the nearest man. Before the man could even adjust his aim or fire, the youth had already grabbed his rifle.

The others reacted instantly and tried to shoot, but the youth was already one step ahead - he pulled the man in front of him as a human shield, making the others hesitate, afraid to shoot and kill their own companion.

"Interesting," the youth thought, before gripping the rifle and bending it completely out of shape with his bare hands.

The man struggled and fought back, but against the youth's strength, it was completely useless. Not wasting any time, the youth slammed his forehead hard into the man's, knocking him unconscious instantly.

Still moving fast, the youth effortlessly threw the unconscious man straight at another shooter. The man had to jump aside to avoid being hit, and in doing so, missed his chance to fire. That split second was all the youth needed - he charged forward at extraordinary speed, keeping right behind the flying body.

The other shooters dared not fire, terrified of hitting their own man.

He was almost upon his next target when the man finally managed to aim and shoot, panic written clearly across his face.

But the youth had already predicted his movement. He weaved smoothly under the bullets and closed the short distance in the blink of an eye. At the same time, he grabbed the rifle and shoved it hard toward the others to scare them off.

It worked - they hurriedly scrambled for cover. With a light, quick punch, he knocked that man out cold.

Without pausing, he turned toward the rest of the group, his feet moving swiftly and lightly, eyes locked firmly on his targets.

The man he was after saw that his companions were slow to give him cover, and tried to defend himself by firing wildly at the youth. But the youth dodged every shot - partly by his speed, partly by predicting his opponent's movements - while closing in fast.

His feet moved gracefully, his body ready to strike - but just halfway to his target, most of the shooters had regained their composure and opened fire all at once.

Suddenly, the youth was overwhelmed; no matter how agile he was, he could not match the speed of bullets.

He was soon completely surrounded by concentrated gunfire, and thick smoke obscured his figure.

When the shooting finally stopped, the shooters waited to see the result - but a cold chill ran down their spines as the youth, who they expected to be riddled with holes, suddenly burst out laughing loudly.

They looked closely: his already tattered robes were even more torn, soaked through with his own blood, and dotted with the metallic shine of bullets stuck fast in his skin.

Laughing like a madman, the youth reached up and pulled out one of the bullets, which was covered in blood. From the torn skin around it, it was clear the bullet had pierced the surface, but had been unable to go any deeper.

"Today I will teach you mortals the true terrors of facing a cultivator!" he snarled, baring his bloodied teeth at the terrified group - but just as he was about to attack again...

A sharp whirring sound cut through the air. Before he could even react, the rocket hit him directly, and a massive explosion slammed him straight into the wall of a nearby building, burying him in smoke and debris.

The shooters quickly turned toward the source of the blast - and there he was: the aged man, now standing on the roof, holding an RPG launcher that was still smoking from the barrel, a smirk on his face.

"Captain!" they all acknowledged him in unison.

The aged man jumped down from the roof and walked toward where the youth was embedded in the wall.

When he reached him, most of the youth's skin was badly burnt and stained red with blood from his injuries.

His eyes no longer held their usual sharpness and vitality - it was clear the RPG had significantly damaged him.

"Oh, you're right - mortals aren't a match for cultivators, but we can still put up a fight against Body Refinement Realm cultivators like you," the man said, as he examined the youth's condition.

He continued as he began pulling the youth's bloodied body free from the wall: "I hope you can now see reason and agree to work with us once you've recovered."

The youth struggled to stand, but his legs gave way and he collapsed to the ground. Gritting his teeth and holding back the pain, he managed to keep a satisfied grin on his face as he replied:

"I guess your weapons do live up to the hype."