บท 1650: A Kind Old Man

"Child, please open your eyes!"

A woman's pained sobs echoed in a thatched hut.

The fires hissed as they encroached the sanctuary of a mother, burning the leaves to a crisp and scorching the ground black.

Once they touched the wood, the flames soared to the sky, filling the surroundings with smoke.

"Child!" 

A drop of tear slid down the woman's cheek but before it could hit the floor, the sizzling temperature vaporized it away.

These were no ordinary flames. And to endure such heat at that distance, neither was the woman.

And yet, she looked no better than a normal mother who lost her child.

"Not you too…"

The boy was just three years old.

She raised him in a secret world, far away from the rivals who kept an eye on her every move.

The same people who killed her husband also killed every child she had with him.

Even if she used the life treasure to have his children…they kept killing.

How many?