“Jiangcheng, I’m back.”

In the speeding jeep’s backseat, Ava Thompson gazed out at the city, her expression unreadable.

Six years. It'd been six whole years.

The familiar streets stirred old memories, pulling her into a silent daze.

Ava had once been the happiest kid alive, born into a loving family with doting parents. Life was perfect—until she turned five.

That’s when her aunt and her family, driven by greed over the family fortune, did the unthinkable.

Her parents were murdered. Her aunt took over everything, and poor five-year-old Ava was dumped into the remote mountains, left to fend for herself.

Thankfully, someone found her and sent her to Luoyun Orphanage, where she lived a quiet, simple life.

Then at twelve, her uncle found out where she was. He snuck into the orphanage to kill her, but instead, he ended up dead.

All the evidence pointed to Ava. She was sentenced to twenty years.

Just a year later, she was secretly pulled out of prison and sent to the borders. Within months, she single-handedly took down top fighters from ten nations. Her name spread like wildfire.

At fourteen, she built her own elite force—Moon Temple—and took the codename Mandrake. Soon, the world feared her.

At fifteen, she fought for the country again, defeating enemy forces in the millions without a scratch, winning back three million miles of land.

By eighteen, her achievements had earned her the title of Summer Nation’s first female War God. Her status? Untouchable.

“Your Highness, we’ve reached the orphanage.”

The voice from the front brought her back to the present—Jacob Grant’s voice.

One of Moon Temple’s four top guardians, and a powerful general in Summer Nation’s military. A man who could shake the world with a single command. But in front of Ava, he was always respectful, almost cautious.

“Okay.”

As the car door swung open, Ava stepped out slowly. Slim and graceful, her figure in black drew every eye.

She looked up at the crooked sign outside the building—“Luoyun Orphanage.”

So many emotions surged in her chest.

Those letters… she and her brothers had painted them, stroke by shaky stroke. And to her surprise—after all these years—they hadn’t changed a bit.

“Uncle, please don’t hit me… don’t tear down the orphanage…”

Suddenly, a tiny, trembling voice rang out from inside.

Ava sped up.

Inside, a gang of rough, thuggish guys were cornering a group of scared kids. The kid who’d just spoken was slapped across the face by the ringleader.

“Shut it! This dump's getting demolished today. You little pests better get used to begging on the streets!”

“Let him go. Or every last one of you dies.”

The moment the words left Ava’s mouth, her delicate hand flicked ever so slightly.

Then—

Boom!

The gate crumbled like paper, crashing down hard.

Before the man could react, the massive iron gate slammed him flat. He didn’t even get to scream.

And right in the center of that gate—an ominous purple emblem was buried deep into the metal.

“Who the hell?!”

The others whipped around, shocked, and their eyes landed on Ava in an instant.

One guy with flaming red hair gave her a once-over—tall figure, curves in all the right places—but the all-black and purple? He scoffed.

“Where’d this hick girl crawl out of?”