The courtyard was filled with laughter, sharp and cruel as broken glass.
Ren Asura knelt in the dirt, robes tattered, hands scraped and bleeding. His classmates, every one of them, pointed and jeered.
"Look at him! The Blackmist Clan's shame!"
"He can't even channel a single ounce of Qi without collapsing. Pathetic!"
"Even Lian'er can't save him from this disgrace!"
Ren's chest burned, not from the bruises, but from the sting of humiliation. The elders' eyes were cold, indifferent. They whispered among themselves as if he were invisible—a failure, unworthy of their notice.
His fists clenched, nails biting into his palms. He wanted to roar, to scream, to lash out—but he had nothing. No cultivation, no talent, no hope. Only the bitter taste of being discarded by the world that had sworn to nurture him.
"Trash," one boy spat, kicking dirt onto Ren's head.
Ren did not move. He did not plead. His jaw tightened.
He had been mocked like this every day for years. Every word, every strike, every sneer had carved itself into him. It was not anger—it was something deeper: the seed of defiance.
And today, it would bloom.
---
The sound of hurried footsteps made him glance up. His childhood friend, Lian'er, stood at the edge of the courtyard, face pale, eyes wide.
"Ren… don't let them—" she began, but her voice trembled.
Before she could reach him, the strongest disciple in the class, Kai Zhen, approached. His smirk was sharp, as if mocking the air itself.
"Still pretending to be human, Ren Asura?" Kai sneered. "Tell me, how does it feel to be the Blackmist Clan's walking failure?"
Ren said nothing.
Kai's fingers danced, tracing an intricate formation in the air. A burst of Qi exploded from him, small but controlled, enough to throw Ren backward onto the courtyard stones. Pain flared across his body.
"Is that all you can take?" Kai laughed, leaning closer. "I should show everyone what happens when you actually try to cultivate and fail miserably."
The crowd chuckled in anticipation.
Ren's vision blurred—not from pain, but from rage, humiliation, and something he had long buried: hope that had turned into hate.
He rolled onto his side, coughing blood, and his mind whispered a single thought: I will survive. No matter the cost.
---
The elders' voices cut through the crowd, calm but final.
"Enough. Ren Asura, follow Kai Zhen to the outer cliffs for your trial."
Ren's heart sank. The "trial" was a death sentence. Every year, the Blackmist Clan sent weaklings to the cliffs, and every year, some never returned.
Lian'er ran forward, hand trembling.
"Ren! Don't—please, don't go!"
He shook his head slightly. He didn't need her tears. Not yet.
"I'll return," he said, voice quiet but firm. "And when I do… everything will change."
---
The cliffs were silent. Jagged rocks jutted out like the spines of some long-dead beast, and the wind carried the scent of the sea and decay. Ren stepped carefully, the stones slippery under his bare hands.
Kai Zhen followed with a smug grin.
"You think the heavens will save you? Or perhaps your little friends?" he mocked. "Here, your so-called cultivation will fail spectacularly."
Ren's lips curled into a ghost of a smile.
Then let it fail, he thought. If the heavens reject me, I will forge my own path.
He pressed his hand against the cold stone at the cliff's edge. Something strange vibrated beneath his fingertips—a faint, pulsing energy buried deep in the earth.
A voice whispered in his mind, soft but ancient:
Ren Asura… you have been chosen.
The wind stilled. The air shimmered. His body tingled as if awake for the first time in his life.
Kai laughed, unaware. "What's the matter? Feeling the wind? It won't save you."
Ren's eyes opened wide—not with fear, but with clarity. The pulsing beneath him called to him, something forbidden, dangerous, powerful. It promised the impossible: strength beyond the heavens themselves.
---
In an instant, the ground beneath him collapsed. Rocks tumbled down the cliff face. Kai's eyes went wide in shock as Ren fell into darkness, tumbling through stone and earth.
Pain and fear mixed, but they were only fleeting. At the bottom of the chasm, a faint glow awaited him. Ancient symbols, carved into the walls, pulsed with light.
A voice, deep and eternal, echoed:
"You have been discarded by mortals, shunned by heaven… yet still you breathe. That is why you are worthy. Take my inheritance… and become the Godslayer."
Ren felt something enter him—a flood of knowledge, power, and sensation that made his blood burn and his soul quake. His limbs felt stronger than ever, his mind clearer.
The Forbidden Triple Path awakened within him. Qi, Body, and Soul intertwined, fusing into a single, unstoppable force.
And then… he felt her presence.
A soft laugh echoed in the chamber. A fox-spirit demoness, radiant and otherworldly, appeared before him. Her eyes glimmered with mischief and desire, her body coiled in an impossible elegance.
"You've finally come," she whispered, moving close. "I've been waiting… for you to rise, Ren Asura."
Ren's lips curved into a smile. It was not innocent, not naive. It was dangerous, daring, and alive with potential.
"I… will rise," he said. "And no one, not even Heaven itself, will stop me."
The fox-spirit's eyes shone brighter. "Good… then let us begin."
In that moment, the world changed.
A boy discarded by fate had entered a cave—and emerged as a force the heavens would regret underestimating.