The Monster Who Held Me

The next day, the sun rose over the crimson-stained banners of the Feng Kingdom.

Within the grand castle, silence reigned. No ministers, no nobles—just still air and quiet dread.

Atop the obsidian throne, clothed in robes of black trimmed with blood-red, sat Feng Yun. His posture was relaxed, yet imposing. The long shadows cast by morning light only deepened the aura around him.

His expression was unreadable—neither joy nor sorrow, as if emotion itself had long been burned from his soul.

He murmured to the empty hall, voice low and cold, "What's taking him so long?"

As if summoned by fate, the heavy double doors creaked open.

A boy walked in, trembling.

Feng Yichen.

He looked nothing like the carefree youth of yesterday. His eyes were bloodshot, ringed with dark circles. His hands shook by his sides. His steps were uneven. Grief clung to him like a second skin.

"I greet the king," he said, lowering his head.

But Feng Yun raised a hand.

"There's no need for formalities between us. We greet strangers, not blood." His gaze sharpened. "Tell me. Is the task complete?"

Yichen nodded stiffly. "Yes... Father."

His voice cracked.

"I killed the two assassins. And... and the manager. His family too."

Feng Yun said nothing at first. He simply stared, as if weighing something deeper than words.

Then, he rose from the throne.

"Son," he said at last, his voice like steel wrapped in silk. "Do you see how I claimed this throne? Was it because the heavens favored me? No. I sit here because I was strong. I won because I endured when others broke. My brother didn't lose because he was wrong—he lost because he was weak. If he had been stronger... then I'd be the one buried, not him."

Yichen looked away, jaw clenched. But Feng Yun stepped forward, eyes boring into his.

"I know. You don't want a lecture. Children rarely do. But some lessons cannot be ignored—they burn themselves into your bones, because this world…" He paused, letting the silence press against his son. "This world isn't fair. It's not a storybook. Justice is a lie told by the weak to make sense of their suffering."

"There is only one rule. One truth."

"The law of the jungle."

"The strong devour the weak. That is the only justice. That is the only god."

Then, unexpectedly, Feng Yun stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the boy.

Yichen froze.

And then the tears came, silent and hot.

His father's whisper pressed into his ear like a brand:

"I don't give lectures to anyone—except those I love.Forget your guilt. Forget mercy.Remember this truth, and you'll survive long after I'm gone."

Yichen buried his face in his father's chest. And for one fleeting moment, inside a castle of stone and death, he was just a child again—grieving, trembling, and held by the monster who made him.

Later, after Yichen's tears had dried and silence reclaimed the throne room, he sat on the cold stone floor, his eyes cast downward. Feng Yun reclined back onto the throne with a sigh, his gaze drifting toward the high ceiling as if the answers he sought were hidden in the cracks.

Then, Yichen asked softly, "Father… are you still going to find Mother?"

The question fell like a stone into still water.

Feng Yun's expression didn't change, but his eyes narrowed slightly. "Why do you ask such a thing?"

There was hesitation.

Yichen clenched his fists, summoning courage from somewhere deep within. "Because when I was little… you always ignored me. Whenever I tried to play or eat, you'd punish me—sometimes just for smiling. You used to say I was cursed. That I was the reason Mother left."

Feng Yun looked down at him, his fingers tightening on the throne's armrest.

"You cried when you thought no one saw you. You screamed at the walls and beat the servants. But… I didn't care about any of it. Not the punishment. Not the silence."

Yichen raised his head, eyes shimmering.

"Because I just wanted to see you happy."

Feng Yun froze.

His eyes widened ever so slightly, not in rage, not in calculation—but something else. Something buried. Something he had long forgotten existed.

Yichen continued, voice unwavering now, "That's why I don't want you to look for Mother anymore. I don't even want to call her my mother… Not after seeing how much pain she caused you."

Feng Yun didn't speak. For a long moment, only the wind outside filled the void.

But his mind stirred like an ancient beast disturbed from slumber.

Strange... I'm over two hundred years old. I've lived lifetimes and seen empires crumble. But no one—not a single soul—has ever said something like this to me... without wanting something in return. They lied, begged, flattered. But this child... he's genuine. A kind soul, in a world that devours kindness.

Then, at last, Feng Yun stood and stepped down from the throne.

"I'm sorry, Yichen," he said quietly. "For being a bastard of a father. For making you carry pain that wasn't yours."

Yichen blinked.

"But I can't stop looking for your mother."

"Why?" Yichen asked, voice cracking. "Why do you need her so badly?"

Feng Yun turned away, walking back toward the throne. "Son… imagine you're a king. And one day, someone attacks your city and claims it for their own. Do you let them keep it?"

He didn't wait for an answer.

"No. You take it back. Even if you must burn the world to ash, you take it back. Because no one… no one takes what belongs to me."

"I see…" Yichen murmured. "Then I'll support you. If it makes you happy, that's enough for me."

He stood up, wiping his face and bowing respectfully. "Do you need anything else?"

Feng Yun's voice returned to its usual command. "Tell the guards I've summoned the finance minister. And inform the jailer—I'll be visiting the prison."

Yichen nodded and turned to leave.

As the doors shut behind him, silence settled once more.

Feng Yun leaned forward slightly, eyes gleaming. "She must still be in that prison…"

But even the past couldn't haunt him forever—not in a world ruled by power.

That's when the screen appeared…

| DING… Congratulations, Successor. You have reclaimed your rightful throne. |

| Reward Available. Would you like to open it now? Y/N |

A smirk tugged at Feng Yun's lips.

"Hmm. So even doing what I want gives me rewards? Then sure—yes."

| Reward Granted:→ Skill 1: Soul Imprint→ Skill 2: Skill Maker & Modification |

| Details: |

Soul Imprint—Similar to a slave mark, but permanent. Even death and reincarnation cannot sever the bond. It leaves no trace on the body—only on the soul.

Skill Maker & Modification—Allows you to modify any skill you possess or acquire, including those given by the system or stolen from others. You may also create custom skills perfectly suited to your DAO.

Feng Yun's eyes sharpened.

"A soul-based permanent bond... Even if they return from death, they're still mine?"

He chuckled lowly, like a predator discovering a new kind of trap.

Then another blue screen emerged, this one pulsing with power.

| Sudden Quest Unlocked:Awaken Your True Bloodline.Complete the objective to receive your next evolution. |

Feng Yun leaned back, his eyes like twin storms.

"Awaken my true bloodline? So the game has just begun…"