Dawn broke over Mist City. The rain had stopped, leaving the streets muddy and grey.
Kaelen walked through the back gates of the Silver-Iron Clan estate. He looked terrible. His clothes were rags, dried blood crusted on his skin, and his hair was a mess. But his stride was steady.
He had reached the Fourth Level of Body Refining. His muscles were compact and dense, hiding explosive power.
The estate was waking up. Servants were rushing about. As Kaelen walked towards his rundown courtyard, he saw a hunched figure standing anxiously by his door.
It was an old man with thinning grey hair, wearing a faded servant's robe. He was pacing back and forth, wringing his hands, his face pale with worry.
It was Uncle Hwan.
Hwan was the old servant who had served Kaelen's father. After Kaelen's parents died and the clan turned against him, all the other servants had left to serve powerful masters like Garret. Only Hwan stayed. He stayed to serve a cripple, earning insults and reduced wages, just to ensure Kaelen didn't starve.
When Hwan saw Kaelen approaching, his eyes widened. He froze for a second, as if seeing a ghost.
"Young Master?" Hwan's voice cracked.
He ran forward—a clumsy, limping run of an old man with bad knees. He grabbed Kaelen's arms, his shaking hands checking Kaelen for injuries.
"Young Master! Where were you?" Tears instantly welled up in Hwan's cloudy eyes. "You didn't come home last night. I... I thought... I heard Master Jareth say something about the forest... I thought you were..."
The old man couldn't finish the sentence. He broke down sobbing, burying his face in his rough hands. "I promised your father I would keep you safe. If you died, how could I face him in the afterlife?"
Kaelen stood frozen.
As the Emperor Valerius, thousands had bowed to him. Millions had feared him. But no one—no one—had ever cried for him like this. Not for his power, but simply because he was alive.
A lump formed in Kaelen's throat. The memories of the original Kaelen flooded him—memories of Hwan secretly giving him extra rice from his own bowl, Hwan sewing his torn clothes late at night by candlelight.
The arrogance of the Emperor melted away, leaving behind a young man looking at his only family.
Kaelen slowly reached out and placed his hand on the old man's trembling shoulder.
"Uncle Hwan," Kaelen said, his voice gentle and devoid of its usual coldness. "I am sorry. I made you worry."
Hwan looked up, wiping his tears with his sleeve. He sniffled, trying to compose himself. "It doesn't matter. You are back. That is all that matters. Look at you... you are covered in mud. Are you hurt? Are you hungry? I saved a steamed bun for you."
A steamed bun. Hwan probably hadn't eaten dinner himself to save it.
Kaelen felt a sharp sting in his heart. 'This old man has nothing, yet he gives me everything. While I, the Great Emperor, was thinking only of revenge.'
"I am fine, Uncle," Kaelen said. He looked into Hwan's eyes with a newfound intensity. "But things are going to change. You won't have to save food for me anymore. You won't have to bow your head to those who mock us."
Hwan looked confused. "Young Master?"
Kaelen smiled. It wasn't the cruel smirk of a predator, but a genuine, reassuring smile.
"I have awakened, Uncle. No one will ever bully us again."
Just then, a loud, obnoxious voice shattered the tender moment.
"Well, well! The trash actually crawled back!"
Kaelen's expression instantly shifted from warmth to ice. He turned around.
Standing at the courtyard entrance was a fat steward, Steward Pang, accompanied by two guards. Pang was the one responsible for distributing monthly allowances—and the one who had been stealing Kaelen's share for years.
"Hwan!" Steward Pang barked, spitting on the ground. "Why are you crying like a woman? And you, Kaelen! You missed the morning roll call. As punishment, your allowance for this month is cancelled. Again."
Pang grinned, showing yellow teeth. He enjoyed this power trip.
Hwan stepped in front of Kaelen, instinctively protecting him. "Please, Steward Pang! He was lost in the rain. He is hungry. Please don't cut the allowance, we have no rice left..."
"Move aside, old dog!" Pang raised his hand to slap Hwan.
Kaelen's eyes went dark.
The compassion he showed the fox and Hwan vanished. The Dragon had returned.
Before Pang's hand could land, Kaelen caught his wrist.
"Ack—!" Pang gasped. He tried to pull his hand back, but it was like being held by an iron clamp. He looked at Kaelen, expecting fear, but found only death.
"You touched the only person who cares about me," Kaelen whispered. "Big mistake."