The wind screamed through the mountains that night.It rushed down from the high peaks, howling through the pine trees, throwing snow in sharp, stinging swirls.
In the outer servant quarters of the Cloud Piercing Sect, the cold crept through thin wooden walls. It slid under blankets and bit into skin. A dozen servants lay curled up in their beds, trying to sleep, their breath misting in the dark air.
Li Shen was not asleep.He had given up trying hours ago.The cold here was not something you fought — it simply stayed with you, sinking into your bones until you stopped resisting.
A dim lantern flickered on the far wall, shadows bending and stretching on the floor. Beyond the walls, the mountains stood like dark giants, blocking the stars.
That was when Li Shen heard it.
A crunch in the snow.Not the wind.Not a guard.
The sound came again — slow, heavy, dragging.
Li Shen frowned and turned toward the paper window. The light outside looked strange… faint and orange, like the glow of a dying fire. He pushed himself up on one elbow, listening.
The steps came closer.Something about the sound… it wasn't steady. It was the walk of someone hurt.
Pain meant weakness. Weakness in the sect could draw predators — men or beasts.
Li Shen slid out of his bed, his bare feet freezing against the floor. He moved quietly to the door and eased the latch open.
A man staggered into view.
His robes were black — not the gray-blue of Cloud Piercing Sect. Blood had dried into hard, dark patches across his chest and arms. His side was torn open, showing raw, frozen flesh. One arm hung limp. In the other, he held a curved blade stained with something dark.
Even in the dim light, Li Shen saw it — the faint shimmer of Qi moving in the man's body.
A cultivator.
The man's eyes lifted and locked on Li Shen's. For a moment, they just stared at each other. Then the man's lips twisted into something between a smile and a snarl.
"You…" he rasped, voice raw and cold, "…saw me."
Li Shen didn't move. He didn't speak.
The man's steps quickened despite his wounds. His free hand dipped into his sleeve. Metal flashed.
Something deep inside Li Shen screamed at him to move.
He threw himself backward just as a dagger stabbed into the doorframe where his head had been. Splinters flew.
The man shoved the door wide and stepped in. His presence filled the room like a storm. Qi rippled faintly from him, pressing on the skin and making the air feel heavy.
The other servants began to stir, confused, half-asleep. None of them ran.
Li Shen's eyes darted to the pile of firewood in the corner. He grabbed an old kitchen knife, the edge dull from years of chopping roots.
The cultivator's gaze locked on him, heavy with killing intent. Li Shen had never felt anything like it. It was like standing at the edge of a cliff, one step from falling forever.
"You die here," the man said, stepping closer.
Li Shen's heart pounded. This was not a fight he could win. Even wounded, a Qi Refining cultivator could kill a mortal in an instant.
But the man wasn't using much Qi. He was too hurt to waste it. He wanted this over quickly. Quietly.
Li Shen's grip on the knife tightened. The man slowed, cautious now.
Li Shen moved first.
He darted left, knocking over a stool in the man's path. The curved blade slashed down, missing his head by inches. Li Shen rolled past, scrambling away.
One servant ran for the door. The cultivator's blade flashed — the runner's body fell in two pieces.
Li Shen didn't think. He couldn't.
He lunged low, driving the kitchen knife into the torn side of the man's robe. The blade sank into flesh.
The cultivator roared in rage. His elbow smashed into Li Shen's temple. Pain flared white in his skull, but his hands refused to let go.
The man's movements slowed. Blood poured from the wound, steaming in the cold.
And then it happened.
The air seemed to shift. Something deep inside Li Shen twisted — and pulled.
The man's eyes went wide. The shimmer of Qi inside him wavered, then began to flow out… into Li Shen.
It wasn't just energy. It was heat, strength, and something that smelled faintly of pine and blood. It rushed into Li Shen's arms, his chest, his veins, until it coiled tight in his belly.
The man tried to break free, but Li Shen's grip was unshakable. He didn't know how he was doing this — only that he couldn't stop.
The cultivator's knees buckled. His blade fell from his hand. His last breath misted in the air before he collapsed.
The pull ended.
Li Shen stumbled back, breathing hard. The cold no longer touched him. His heart beat steady and strong. Warmth curled in his stomach like a sleeping beast.
He stared at his hands. They tingled with strange power.
In his mind, a faint whisper rose:
"Devour… and you shall ascend."
Li Shen didn't understand it. He didn't know that the warmth inside him would grow. That it would whisper again when blood was spilled. That the heavens themselves would notice him.
For now, he only knew one thing:
The man he had just killed was a cultivator.And Li Shen had stolen his power.