Chapter 7: It Was Him

Words : 1585 Updated : Feb 28th, 2026

Scurr Villa. Inside the living room… Callum Flinter served tea. Brock Yale and Onyx Scurr sat facing each other. Onyx Scurr lit a cigarette. The drifting smoke veiled half his face as his voice sank into the past. "Back then… after something happened to the Yale family, I secretly looked into a few details." He paused, jaw tightening. "But when I found out there were two Earth Realm Warriors among those men in black… I didn't dare dig any deeper." "Earth Realm Warriors?" Brock frowned. "Yes." Onyx Scurr nodded and let out a long sigh. "There aren't many Earth Realm Warriors in Zerton. Each of them has their own tricks, carves out their own territory, and rarely associates with the others…" His gaze sharpened. "Only two have served under the King of Zerton all these years. They even rose to the rank of commander." Brock's brows lifted. "So… it really was the King of Zerton?" Onyx Scurr bit down hard, refusing to say the words. He only gave a small, reluctant nod. "Good." Brock rose abruptly, the chair scraping back. "If the King of Zerton was truly involved in the massacre of the Yale family, then even if he's Zerton's king, he'll still die." With that, he turned and left the Scurr family. Onyx Scurr tried to stop him, but when he rushed outside, Brock Yale was already gone… The Oldakers family's old estate. Micah Oldakers and Danielle Oldakers sat upright in the main hall. More than a hundred thugs and bodyguards stood guard in the courtyard, tense and ready. Among them were the estate guards the Oldakers family had kept on retainer, as well as martial artists they had cultivated for years. With survival on the line, the Oldakers family had gathered every last ounce of strength for one desperate fight. Danielle Oldakers knelt on the floor, burning paper offerings for her elder brother and niece. She glanced up at the wall clock. "Dad, it's almost ten. That Brock Yale… he probably isn't coming, right?" Micah Oldakers kept his eyes closed, resting, and didn't answer. A few Oldakers elders couldn't help chiming in. "I think so too. That Yale brat only got us because we let our guard down. We're prepared this time. How would he dare come here to die?" "Exactly. A nobody like him, barging into the Oldakers family estate? He doesn't have the guts." "I bet it was just a stalling tactic. He's probably already fled the city. Why would he dare show up here?" "Shut up." Micah Oldakers spoke coldly. He swept those elders with a detached stare. "What did Anderson Dalton say?" Danielle Oldakers answered at once, "When I called him just a moment ago, he said he was coming immediately." "Good." Micah Oldakers nodded, closed his eyes again, and continued to wait. Danielle Oldakers couldn't help checking the clock once more. Irritation crawled under her skin. "Dad… do you really think-" Boom! Her words cut off. A sudden, thunderous crash shook the estate. The heavy front gates of the old manor flew into the hall like two paper gliders, smashing down and flattening a cluster of Oldakers descendants. "Ow…!" "What the hell…?" "My God! Is that… our front gate?!" Inside the hall, chaos erupted. When the dust finally settled, Micah Oldakers focused his eyes. All composure drained from his face as he screamed, voice tearing raw. "Danielle!" Two massive iron gates had pinned Danielle Oldakers to the floor… Along with several other Oldakers descendants. They died on the spot. Brock Yale strode in like a god of slaughter. He stopped at the entrance, his voice sharp with frost. "Old man Oldakers, have you figured out how you're going to answer me?" "Brock Yale!" Micah Oldakers sprang out of the hall, glaring so hard the veins at his temples bulged. "You bastard! Brock Yale!" "You killed my son and my granddaughter, and now you've killed my daughter!" His voice cracked with rage. "You've gone too far!" Brock's gaze flicked to Danielle's body under the iron gates. A faint smile tugged at his lips. "This is 'too far'?" "Ten years ago, you brought your men into the Yale family home and butchered anyone you saw." "Thirty-four lives. Everyone in the Yale family. Only I survived." He looked Micah Oldakers straight in the eye. "Tell me, Old man Oldakers. How did it feel back then?" "I…" Micah Oldakers froze, struck speechless. "Bastard!" Several gang leaders surged forward, faces twisted with ferocity. "Who the hell do you think you are, talking to our master like that?!" "Kid, we didn't expect you to actually come here to die!" "There's a road to heaven and you won't take it. There's no gate to hell, yet you barged right in!" "This is the Oldakers family. You don't get to run wild here. Get on your knees!" They were used to throwing their weight around. In their eyes, Brock Yale was nothing. Whoosh! Brock didn't waste a single word. He thrust out a palm. The force of it sliced past the treetops beside him. Several green leaves snapped free and shot forward like arrows. Thup, thup, thup… Blood sprayed across the floor. Those leaders dropped where they stood. Brock walked toward the remaining hundred men at an unhurried pace, his tone flat and merciless. "If Old man Oldakers can't give me an answer I'm satisfied with today, don't blame me for turning this place into a slaughterhouse." Micah Oldakers ground his teeth, brows twitching as he barked an order, "All of you!" "Together!" "Kill him!" More than a hundred thugs drew their weapons in unison. Blades, spears, and every kind of steel lunged toward Brock Yale. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh… Brock met the tide head-on. He moved like a roaming dragon, momentum surging like a rainbow cutting through the sky. Shouts and curses collided with the sickening crack of breaking bones and the shrieks of the dying, all merging into one brutal roar. Hundreds of trained fighters… and not one of them could stop a single man. Micah Oldakers stared, stunned. The strength the Oldakers family had once been so proud of meant nothing before Brock Yale. In only a few minutes, it was all wiped out. Brock, as calm as if he were taking a leisurely stroll through a park, walked to the front of the hall. He swept his eyes over the Oldakers family members cowering in the corners and spoke in a voice that cut like ice. "Old man Oldakers." "My question." "I'll ask it once." "The massacre of the Yale family back then… was the King of Zerton involved?" "Hahahaha…" A powerful, weathered laugh rolled in from outside the door. "Well, well. Who would've thought?" "The Yale family's leftover trash that vanished ten years ago…" The voice carried a lazy cruelty. "You actually grew into a martial expert." A pale, beardless man strolled forward. His eyes were cold and venomous, his posture relaxed, his steps unhurried. Without a word, he walked straight toward Brock Yale. It was him. The instant Brock saw that man, his gaze sharpened. A blaze of fury roared up in his chest, wild and unstoppable. Those eyes. They appeared every time he had nightmares. Even though the man had covered his face back then, Brock Yale would never mistake him. It was him. The one who killed Brock's parents. That cold, sinister stare… Brock Yale would never forget it for the rest of his life.

Chapter 7: It Was Him

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