The Invincible Young Master

Inside, a group of white cloaked figures gathered around the infant's resting place.

Their faces were hidden beneath their hoods as they whispered to each other in voices filled with both wonder and fear.

Near the infant's chest, a small dark mark pulsed gently, almost as if it was alive.

One of the cloaked men pointed to the mark with a shaky hand. "Lord Shaman, what does this mean?"

An elderly man stepped forward, his eyes filled with the wisdom of many years. He studied the mark closely and slowly shook his head, sending a chill through the room.

"I have never seen anything like this before," he admitted, his voice rough with age.

The elderly man then looked toward a tall man standing quietly in the side.

The man's golden hair caught the light, and worry was clear on his face. His strong hands were clenched into tight fists.

"Duke," the shaman said seriously, "This child is bound to reshape the world"

The Duke's eyes widened in surprise, but he stayed silent, his gaze fixed firmly on the infant.

"I have never felt such powerful energy in someone so young," the shaman continued in a low tone. "This child could be the next human emperor."

A heavy silence filled the room as everyone tried to grasp the meaning of the shaman's words. They looked at the tiny infant, amazed that someone so small could hold such great power.

"But," the shaman added after a pause, "before he can fulfill his destiny, he must survive three great calamities in his life."

Just as the shaman finished speaking, the chamber doors burst open. A cloaked figure stumbled in, breathing hard.

"Lord Shaman, something is happening outside!" he exclaimed.

The shaman's eyes narrowed. "What is it?"

"It's like the end of the world out there," the man replied, fear evident in his voice.

"What?!"

Outside, the sky had turned dark and angry, filled with swirling black clouds that hid the sun completely.

Thunder boomed loudly, shaking the ground whole, while lightning sliced through the sky, lighting up the darkness for brief moments. Heavy rain poured down in sheets, flooding the land and turning it into a muddy swamp.

Somewhere far away, deep within the darkness, a giant eye slowly opened.

It looked ancient and wise, holding secrets that went beyond time itself.

The eye stared across the distance, seeming to see through the storm and the darkness straight into the mansion.

Back in the chamber, the infant had stopped crying. He reached out with his tiny hands and let out a soft, happy giggle.

His bright, curious green eyes met the gaze of the enormous eye in darkness.

For a moment, everything seemed to stop as the two locked eyes.

"You have come... once more," a deep, echoing voice whispered in the darkness. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the giant eye closed and vanished back into the darkness.

...

23 years later

...

'In the vast celestial expanse, a golden door floated amidst the stars, a observer of ancients.

It had witnessed the birth of chaos and the death of countless stars and galaxies, yet it stood unwavering and resolute.

The door neither shifted nor decayed, hovering eternally, untouched by the ravages of time.

What mysteries lay behind it? For eons, it had remained sealed, its secrets locked away from the world.'

"Huh! What kind of crappy story is this?" A sudden, frivolous voice shattered the solemn atmosphere.

Heads turned towards the interruption.

A man drained a large jug, setting it down to reveal his handsome features and neatly tied golden hair. His muddled eyes fixated on the old storyteller on the stage.

"You old fart, what's with this same boring tale over and over?" he jeered, slurring his words. "My ears are going numb from hearing this crap again and again."

"Young master, this is the third time. Please, don't interrupt while he is telling his story," a woman beside him chided gently, a wry smile playing on her lips.

Seeing the golden-haired man continue to scold the storyteller, an employee approached, his demeanor respectful yet firm. "You've had too much to drink. Guest, please leave the establishment."

"Huh, isn't this a place for drinking? Why kick me out?" The young man waved the jug, his words tangled and slurred.

The employee hesitated, glancing aside to decide what to do.

Seeing this, whispered comments buzzed among the customers.

"Poor guy, he can't force him to leave even if he wanted to," murmured one customer, shaking his head.

"Who would dare? Doesn't he not want to keep his job?" another added quietly.

"Even the owner wouldn't dare throw out the young master," someone else whispered.

Hearing all these remarks about the golden-haired man, a dark-robed figure seated near a window appeared curious and asked. "Who is he?"

A nearby person turned and saw the speaker, who wore dark, foreign attire and had a sword at his waist.

"New to the city, are you?" the person asked. "You must be, to not know the young master."

The dark-attired man nodded. "I arrived here recently."

"That's Lord Dwight Spark, the youngest son of Duke Dwight," the person explained.

"The Dwight family?" The dark-robed man raised his brows with recognition.

"Yes, that Dwight family. One of four pillars of the empire," the person replied.

"What's someone from the Dwight family doing here?" the man asked curiously.

"I've heard Young lord Spark is in exile," came the hushed reply.

"Exile?"

The person leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "There's a rumor he teased the emperor's daughter, and in his rage, the emperor ordered his exile."

"What?!"

"Shh, keep your voice down."

"Is that true?" the dark-robed man whispered.

"It's just a rumor," the person said softly.

The dark-robed man pondered the weight of this information. Teasing the emperor's daughter and living to tell the tale was a testament to the Dwight family's formidable power.

In the empire, the Dwights were one of the four great pillars. They commanded vast lands and a formidable army, securing their position as a cornerstone of the empire's might. To challenge them was to invite certain doom; even kings and emperors trod carefully around them.

As the disturbance died down, the woman by the golden-haired man's side gently supported him to his feet and guided him out of the establishment.

Seeing them leave, the dark-robed man also stood up and left.

A horse-mounted carriage waited outside, its polished wood gleaming under the moonlight. Just as the woman helped her young master inside, the dark-robed man approached.

"Why are you following us?" the woman asked, her eyes narrowing as she caught sight of him.

"I want to work for the young master," he declared.

"Work for me?" Golden-haired man, Spark, blinked at him through hazy eyes.

"I can be your bodyguard or assistant," the man offered.

" I do need some help," Spark mused. "Can you cook?"

"Cook?" The man seemed taken aback. "I suppose I can."

"Did I ask your name?" Spark inquired, his gaze narrowing.

"I'm called Zhao Shi,"

"Hmm, a foreigner," Spark noted, studying him. "I'll call you Butler Zhao then."

"Feel free to do so, young master," Zhao Shi agreed.

"Great! You're hired, Butler Zhao," Spark announced, a grin spreading across his face. "I've been suffering from her cooking lately. This will be a nice change."

"What are you saying, young master?" the woman protested playfully, pinching Spark's arm.

Zhao Shi sensed a glare. When he turned, her eyes bore into him, a flicker of irritation evident.

'What's her problem? Why is she glaring at me?' he wondered.

"Ahem," Spark interrupted, "And what do you want in return?"

"A shelter, a place to stay," Zhao Shi replied simply.

"Is that all?" asked Spark.

Zhao Shi nodded in response.

"It seems he's not lying," the woman observed, her tone softening.

"Very well, it's settled then. Let's head back," Spark decided.

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