Six years

Inside the cellar were women, children, and a few men huddled together, their eyes hollow. They were all ransom victims waiting for their families to pay for their freedom. Their lives were hanging by a thread. The young woman found her mother-in-law cradling her baby. Tears flowed freely as they embraced. 

The others expressed their gratitude their gazes like they had seen a saviour. "Young Lord," they murmured, their voices a chorus of relief. Xiang Yu's brow arched. He was no lord, but titles mattered little in this moment. 

He helped them down the mountain, away from the compound. And when they reached safety, he distributed the bandit's ill-gotten fortune among them.

As they counted the coins, Xiang Yu's gaze lingered on the young woman. Her eyes held a mix of awe and fear as she looked at him cautiously. He was just a little boy but his eyes and aura were unsettling. He smiled at her, a smile with no sarcasm or ill will. It was a genuine warm smile from his heart. 

"Take care of your baby and tell them that you love them no matter what," he said his hand clutching the jade pendant hanging around his neck. 

The young woman hugged her baby closer her expression a little vexed. That was because her child was her whole world so why would she not take care of him? She didn't know that in this world there was a mother who would try and kill her ten-year-old son. 

This one encounter was the beginning of a legend. It was the tale of a red-eyed half-demon child. 

They said he had eyes like smouldering coals, crimson and piercing. His presence carried an otherworldly aura like a god. To the poor and forgotten he was their salvation.

He roamed the realm, a solitary figure in torn robes, his blade swift and merciless. Where immortals turned their backs, he stepped forward. Even the most fierce bandits quaked at the mere mention of his name. 

Xiang Yu was completely unaware of this. He sat up with a jolt waking up from his sleep. His hand brushed against something and it fell onto the ground with a clatter. He glanced down from the rock he was sleeping on. He found that it was his things that the bandits had robbed from him. Confusion clouded his mind for a moment. He remembered everything that happened last night. He recalled how he gathered the blood of beech tree branches in the mountains and burnt them making the bandits kill each other. 

That was the plan but he hadn't done it, had he? He remembered doing it but he didn't feel like he did it. It felt like a lucid dream. His mind buzzed unable to make sense of it. 

After what seemed like an eternity he lay back on the rock staring at the rough ceiling. His laughter bubbled up. It was a wild and unsettling sound echoing off the cave walls. The creatures nearby fled into the shadows in fear. 

***

Fully aware of his shortcomings Xiang Yu knew he had to do some sort of training. In the world of demons, only the strong were recognised. If he was too weak he would die before even laying his eyes on his father.

Since cultivation was not an option for him he decided to do martial arts training. He headed north wanting to be close to the demon realm and then find a master there but he ended up in the imperial city. 

He had saved the sixth prince's convoy from low-level demons along the way and he was badly injured. He passed out and when he woke up he found himself in the imperial palace. 

As a token of appreciation, he was given an imperial order to join the dead guards. They moved like ghosts protecting the son of heaven. They were like the emperor's silent enforcers protecting him at all costs. 

For six years, he trained with the dead guards in the art of becoming invisible just like a ghost. He became a senior brother to plenty of junior brothers who revered him and followed him around like baby chicks. 

From the first day that he arrived at the enclave, his master saw something in him. He had high expectations of him thus he was more strict with him. Xiang Yu mastered several sword techniques in such a short time. Impressed, his master constantly introduced him to more training manuals. But it wasn't just sword techniques he was introduced to. 

Yue Buqun taught him about poisons, their lethality and their antidotes. He also learnt archery and daggers became an extension of his will. He learned to move like smoke, to vanish into the night.

And beyond the physical training, Xiang Yu absorbed knowledge of the art of being a dead guard. He understood disguises, infiltration, and the power of silence. As the years passed, his skills sharpened and he was sent on several missions. He was so exceptional that the emperor wanted him to be in service but his master insisted that he wasn't ready yet. 

For the first time in his life, Xiang Yu felt a sense of belonging. His master though stoic was quite proud of him and his juniors admired him. For a moment he thought this could be his life. Well, all of that changed overnight. 

Xiang Yu returned to the enclave his breath visible in the frigid air. He spotted his master's stoic figure standing outside with a lost expression. 

"Master," he called out and the old man looked like he had aged ten years in just a few days. He had only been gone for six days so what could have happened?

"Go... see for yourself," he said his voice hoarse. Xiang Yu went inside and found two of his juniors wrapped in bandages. At a glance, one could tell how severe their injuries were. It was as though they had been attacked by a beast. 

"They were attacked by a demon," he said his voice measured. "The two of them are in critical condition and... one of your junior brothers... little Chang is dead."

Xiang Yu was familiar with this junior brother. He was the one who cried a lot when he first came here. He would run around calling senior brother this senior brother that to everyone almost driving them insane but he always lightened up the mood. 

When he saw the boy's mangled body his fists clenched nails biting into his palms. Something primal stirred within him, something he had struggled to restrain over the years. 

The killing intent emanating from his body was so intense almost tangible. Yue Buqun could sense his turmoil. He had long sensed the darkness that threatened to overwhelm his best disciple. The dead guards were meant to be cold and unfeeling, ruthless in their actions, but Xiang Yu was a different breed. He couldn't hide the blood thirst and cruelty underneath his skin from him.