Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation

After the annihilation of the sun, your normal life came to an end. You were forced to wander the streets in search of food and a place to sleep, hiding the fact that the blood of the Wen Clan flowed through your veins.

You drifted into a gang of bandits who were skilled at raiding markets and could always escape unscathed. With them, you finally felt like you belonged. But happiness was short-lived—the leader's thirst for something larger and more dangerous clouded his judgment, and so you set out for the streets of Yunmeng. After capturing one of their own, the man turned out to be a coward and betrayed the whole lot; a true hunt was unleashed upon you. You hid skillfully, but even your luck eventually ran out.

Kneeling on the cold floor of a dungeon lit by a few flickering torches, you watched your exhausted companions. They were being starved, threatened with torture to wring a single extra word from them.

Now, your turn had come. The heavy, loud footsteps of the Sect Leader echoed through the dungeon, making your comrades flinch in terror. You knelt before him, head held high with a lingering pride and a thirst for vengeance for your people.

— Let us see if you have anything new to tell us.

The Sect Leader's voice was like a blade pressed against a throat.

— You look far too young. What corner of the earth did this gang pick you up from?