Imperial God Emperor

Prologue - The Young Boy in the Cemetery

"Little Yu, don't cry. Everyone has to die sometime. Your mother's and my time has come. Our comrades are waiting for us in the stars."

"Haha! Compared to our comrades who have gone first, to see you grow with our own eyes from our little baby to a ten year-old- boy, we are already extremely lucky!

The colour of the sunset was like blood.

The battle to defend the city had ended.

In front of the solemn silence of the ancestral door, the tears of the thin young boy were like rain. Written on his face was the sorrow of tragedy but also hatred and vengeance.

A middle-aged couple was sitting in front of the door in a pool of blood.

Their bodies were filled with wounds.

The wife had a broken spear stabbed through her chest. Her breath was extremely faint, her life hanging on a line. The husband already lost both his legs and an arm, a small sword the length of a finger stuck into his forehead.

But miraculously, he was still alive.

As if he had come back from the dead, the man still retained consciousness.

The man used his only arm left to hug his wife.

The young boy, his face filled with tears, was the only son of the husband and wife.

The man looked at his son, his eyes filled with love and an indescribable emotion.

He smiled.

"Wipe your tears dry, you are a little man. Right now you have to listen clearly. I have something extremely important to tell you. Remember you must remember. Once your mother and I have left, you must guard our tomb for four years. You must guard it for the full four years without even missing a day, do you understand?"

The little boy nodded his head, his tears falling.

"I know what you're thinking. You're not allowed to do so. An anger without strength is completely meaningless. I know you've always wanted to go to White Deer Academy to practice martial arts and become a strong martial artist. But my little man, you cannot do so. At least in the next four years you cannot do so…"

"Don't ask me why, only remember that in these four years, you must be like a grain of sand in the desert, unnoticeable. You must make the entire Deer City forget the your existence… Of course, if in the eyes of some people you are like a madman, then that is even better. But I believe our little Yu will not be bothered by this!"

"After four years, you can do the things you want. If one day, you can become a Bitter Sea expert, then you must definitely go to the royal palace of Snow Country and take back something that belongs to you. At that time, this badge will tell you the truth behind everything!"

The man said this and placed a brass badge engraved with swords into the boy's palm.

These words and this action seemed to have exhausted the last of the man's life.

Then the colour on the man's face rapidly faded away.

The man's face changed to a deathly white, without the slightest trace of blood. Fresh blood spurted from his mouth.

"Father…" the young boy screamed with despair.

"Also, do you remember the nameless breathing technique I passed on to you? In these four years of guarding the tomb, you must continue to train in it, turning it into a part of you. Can you do this?"

The little boy nodded his head obediently.

"Then that is good…" The man's eyes lost his last shred of colour.

Because of the heavy injury and blood loss, he already could not see anything anymore.

He lowered his head and kissed the forehead of his wife. He spoke in a voice only he could hear that was filled with unspeakable regret "Yingying, I'm sorry."

Then, the man closed his eyes and passed away.

The eyes of his wife in his hands seemed to have sensed something. A crystal clear tear slowly formed and dripped down her cheek. At the same time, she also stopped breathing.

The young boy kneeled within the pool of blood, his hand holding the brass badge, crying until he lost his voice.

His name was Ye Qingyu.

From then on, in the poor northern district, in a deserted cemetery, there was an unknown little boy who waited for four years.

In these four years, he spent the majority of the time like a statue, sitting dumbly in front of the tomb, as if he was crazy.

Therefore, countless words of ridicule and mockery were thrown at him.

The majority of people were sure that after experiencing the impact of the death of his parents, the extremely clever boy with exceptional talent the person who was once called the number one genius by the Dean of the White Deer Academy, had become trash.

Ye Qingyu was completely driven to distraction, becoming crazy and dumb, turning into a pitiful worm.

He became an idiot you could bully and deride as you wanted.

As a result of this, someone who was once a friend of the Ye family using the lowest of prices - half conning, half buying - took away the only treasured sword of the Ye family.

Someone also used various methods to take away the Ye family properties.

A small noble family used their position to take away the Ye family home.

The young boy slowly lost everything he possessed.

He seemed to not have the slightest of strength to resist.

It was as if everyone could bully him as they wanted. It was as if everyone could spit onto his face without repercussions.

But the little boy seemed not to care about anything in the slightest.

Until the day that his playmate left him.

"Brother Qingyu, you've fallen. I've grown up. I'm sorry. Our oath to be beside each other, let it fall and scatter in the winds. Don't blame me for being too realistic, but…I've entered White Deer Academy. I will see you

— No. We should never see each other again!"

It was his childhood friend, the little girl who always followed him around everywhere, holding the back of his clothes. The little girl who accepted his aid and protection countless times had said such words, and quickly turned away.

She went into a crowd of wealthily-dressed people and did not turn her head back.

Her talent was shocking and her every attribute was excellent. She was fated to ascend to the heavens.

And him, he needed to stay in this deserted cemetery and accept the test of four lonely years.