The night passed slowly.
Kael lay awake, staring at the broken roof of his hut. His body was weak, his flesh crippled, but inside his chest burned a fire that refused to die. The echoes of what he had done to the servant girl still lingered in his mind. Her trembling form, her helpless obedience, her soul bending beneath his will… it reminded him of who he truly was.
Not a cripple.
Not a beggar.
Not a servant of the Azure Sect.
I am Kael. The Devil God.
His jaw tightened, his teeth grinding. Hatred rose in him like a storm. Hatred for the disciples who mocked him, hatred for the elders who spat on him, hatred for the "heroes" who had once thrust their swords into his divine heart.
But most of all, hatred for himself — for being weak.
He closed his eyes, gripping the mat under him. The straw cracked under his fists. His crippled legs ached, his thin arms shook, but his spirit roared.
No more. I will not crawl. I will not bow. This world thinks I am prey? Then I will rise. I will make them see the hunter once again.
---
Morning Humiliation
When the sun rose, Kael dragged himself to the training grounds. The other disciples were already there, laughing and sparring. Their wooden swords clashed, their feet stamped across the dirt.
As soon as they noticed him, the laughter grew louder.
"Look, the cripple crawled out of his hole."
"Careful, don't let him break his bones just by walking!"
"Maybe he came to beg for scraps again."
They pointed and laughed, their voices cutting like knives. Kael kept walking, his eyes cold, his face calm. He said nothing.
One disciple stepped forward, tall and broad-shouldered, swinging his wooden sword with a grin. "Hey, cripple, want to spar? I'll make sure you die faster than last time."
The group roared with laughter.
Kael looked at him, his gaze sharp as a blade. But he said nothing. He only turned and kept walking to the far corner of the grounds, where no one trained. His silence only brought more jeers.
"Coward!"
"Waste of food!"
"Why does the sect even keep trash like him alive?"
Kael ignored it all. On the surface, he was calm. But inside, the rage boiled hotter and hotter.
Mock me now. Laugh while you can. The day will come when your screams will replace your laughter.
---
Training in Secret
When the disciples left and the grounds were empty, Kael stayed. He sat cross-legged in the dirt, closing his eyes. He called on the fragment of his Soul Dominion, letting the faint whispers stir inside him.
It was weak, like a candle in the wind. But even the smallest flame could grow into a firestorm.
He focused. He remembered the servant girl kneeling, her soul bending beneath his will. He replayed it over and over in his mind, sharpening the memory until it became a weapon.
Slowly, he began to push his soul outward. The air around him trembled faintly, almost too small to notice. His crippled body shook, sweat rolling down his pale face.
Minutes passed. Hours. His vision blurred, his chest burned. But he refused to stop.
Power… come back to me. Even if I must crawl through blood and mud, I will rise.
At last, when he thought he might collapse, a faint ripple spread through the ground around him. Dust lifted into the air, swirling in a small circle. The whisper of Soul Dominion grew louder.
Kael's lips curled into a thin smile. "Yes… it returns."
---
A Silent Vow
When night came again, Kael sat alone in his hut. His body was weak, his muscles sore, but his spirit was sharper than ever.
He looked at his thin hands, clenching them into fists. "I may be crippled, but this vessel will not stop me. I will forge it into a weapon. I will carve strength into my flesh. And if it breaks, I will rebuild it with blood."
He thought of the Azure Sect, the disciples who mocked him, the elders who dismissed him. He thought of the heroes who had killed him, the generals who had betrayed him, the gods who had laughed when he fell.
A storm brewed in his chest, silent but furious.
"I will rise," he whispered. "I will crush them all. And I will do it with silence, until the day comes when my roar shakes the heavens."
---
The Servant Returns
The door creaked. Kael turned his head. It was the same servant girl from the night before, carrying a small bowl of rice. Her eyes avoided his, her steps hesitant.
"I… I was told to bring food," she muttered, setting the bowl down. Her hands trembled as she placed it before him.
Kael studied her carefully. Her soul still carried the seed of his command. He could sense it — the faint thread tying her will to his.
"Eat," she whispered, bowing her head.
Kael chuckled. "No. You eat first."
Her eyes widened, confusion flashing across her face. "M-me?"
"Yes. Eat."
The command slid into her mind. She hesitated only a moment before picking up the bowl and taking a small bite. Her face turned red, shame and confusion battling in her eyes.
Kael watched, his smile growing darker. Even fear cannot erase obedience. The seed grows.
When she placed the bowl down, trembling, Kael leaned closer. "Remember this. You belong to me. Even if you don't understand it now, your soul knows the truth."
The girl's lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. She fled quickly, leaving Kael alone once more.
He laughed softly, shaking his head. "Even the weakest thread of power bends others. When I rise again, not even gods will resist."
---
Building the Fire
The days passed.
Kael trained in silence. When others mocked him, he stayed calm. When they pushed him, he did not strike back. Outwardly, he was still the cripple, the prey, the coward.
But inside, his rage grew sharper. He stoked it like a hidden fire, feeding it with every insult, every slap, every laugh. He fed it with hunger, with pain, with memory.
At night, he trained his Soul Dominion, bending small creatures — rats, insects, even birds that wandered too close. Each command sharpened his will, each success built his confidence.
And in his quiet hut, he whispered to himself again and again:
"I am not prey. I am the hunter. This silence is only the beginning. When I rise, the world will remember the Devil God."
---
The Unseen Roar
One night, as Kael meditated, the air in his hut suddenly pulsed. Dust lifted, the wooden walls creaked, and the straw mat shook. His eyes snapped open, glowing faintly with power.
The Soul Dominion inside him had grown stronger. Not much, but enough to shake the room.
Kael laughed softly, the sound low and dangerous. "Yes… even in this broken shell, I climb higher. Piece by piece, I return."
He clenched his fists, his body trembling with the weight of his vow.
"No more crawling. No more bowing. I will rise, and when I do, the heavens themselves will tremble."
His voice was quiet, but inside his chest, his rage roared like thunder.
The night swallowed his words, carrying them into the darkness. And though no one could hear, Kael knew the truth:
The Devil God had begun his return.