Rain fell steadily from a colorless sky.
It wasn't heavy enough to be called a storm, nor light enough to be ignored. It soaked through cloth, seeped into skin, and lingered—persistent, patient, uncaring.
Kael knelt in the outer courtyard of the Lin Clan, his knees pressed into cold mud. Each breath felt heavier than the last, as though the air itself resisted him. Blood dripped from his chin, mixing with rainwater until it vanished into the ground.
Around him stood dozens of people.
Disciples in clean robes. Elders seated beneath a long canopy. Servants holding umbrellas.
No one moved to help him.
Some watched with faint curiosity. Others with open disdain. Most did not bother hiding their boredom.
"This again?" someone muttered. "I thought it was already decided."
Kael's hearing was dulled, but the words still reached him.
Above him, a figure stood out clearly.
Lin Hao.
He stood a few steps away, hands clasped behind his back, posture relaxed. A servant held an umbrella over his head, ensuring not a single drop of rain touched his robes. His expression was calm, his gaze steady, as if he were merely attending a routine gathering.
Which, for him, this was.
"Ten years," Lin Hao said, his voice neither loud nor soft. It carried naturally across the courtyard. "Ten years of cultivation resources."
He took a slow step forward.
"Ten years of pills, manuals, and guidance."
Another step.
"All allocated to you."
Kael raised his head with effort. His vision blurred, but he forced himself to focus on Lin Hao's face. It was familiar—too familiar. He had seen it since childhood. The same calm eyes. The same effortless confidence.
"You have produced nothing," Lin Hao continued. "A defective core. Stagnant cultivation. Rank One… for a decade."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Some nodded. Some scoffed.
Kael's fingers twitched, digging slightly into the mud.
He knew all this.
No one needed to remind him.
"You really believed," Lin Hao went on, "that effort could make up for talent?"
A disciple stepped forward and kicked Kael in the side.
The impact knocked the breath from his lungs. Pain flared across his ribs, sharp and immediate. Kael's body slid a short distance across the ground before stopping.
Laughter followed.
Not cruel laughter.
Amused laughter.
"Trash pretending to cultivate." "A cripple who doesn't know his place." "How shameless."
Kael coughed, a wet sound tearing from his throat. Blood splattered onto the ground.
He didn't scream.
He had learned long ago that screaming changed nothing.
His cultivation core burned faintly inside him—what remained of it. Three days ago, it had been forcibly shattered by an elder's hand, crushed under the justification of "preserving clan dignity."
Publicly.
Deliberately.
A warning to others.
Lin Hao watched him quietly. There was no hatred in his eyes. No anger.
Only faint disappointment.
"You should be grateful," Lin Hao said. "The elders debated executing you."
Kael laughed softly. The sound was broken, almost involuntary.
"If that's true," he said hoarsely, "why am I still alive?"
Lin Hao smiled.
"Mercy."
The word landed heavier than any blow.
A senior elder cleared his throat from beneath the canopy. "Kael of the Lin Clan," he said formally, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "Due to your defective cultivation, repeated waste of resources, and the incident three days prior, the elders have reached a unanimous decision."
Kael lowered his head.
He already knew.
"You are hereby stripped of all clan privileges," the elder continued. "Your name will be removed from the inner records."
A pause.
"You will be exiled to the Outer Ruins."
Silence spread through the courtyard.
Even the rain seemed quieter.
The Outer Ruins.
Kael's breathing slowed.
That place was not meant for people.
A land beyond the spiritual veins. Beyond protection. Beyond order. Demonic beasts roamed freely there, twisted by unstable laws. No sect patrolled it. No clan claimed it.
Those sent there did not return.
The elder's voice echoed distantly. "This is the clan's final mercy. Take it as such."
Mercy.
Kael almost laughed again.
Guards stepped forward. Iron chains were fastened around his wrists, cold and unforgiving. The weight dragged at his weakened body as they pulled him to his feet.
He did not resist.
What would be the point?
As he was dragged toward the massive outer gates, Kael glanced around one last time.
The courtyard where he had trained alone at dawn.
The stone paths he had swept as punishment.
The walls he had leaned against while others passed him by.
Not a single face met his gaze.
When the gates opened, a gust of dry wind rushed in, carrying with it a scent Kael had never smelled before—dust, decay, something old and lifeless.
The Outer Ruins lay beyond.
The guards shoved him forward.
Kael stumbled, his chained hands failing to break his fall. His body struck the rocky ground hard, pain tearing through him. He rolled once, then lay still.
The gates slammed shut behind him.
The sound echoed.
Once.
Twice.
Then silence.
Kael lay on his side, rain soaking into his clothes, his breathing shallow and uneven. The ground beneath him was rough, littered with cracked stone and broken remnants of structures long collapsed.
No spiritual energy flowed here.
He could feel it immediately.
The familiar sensation of ambient qi—weak as it had always been for him—was gone entirely.
So this is it.
His thoughts drifted, sluggish and unfocused.
Images surfaced unbidden.
Himself as a child, waking early to train while others slept.
Swallowing bitter pills that never worked.
Listening to elders sigh when they thought he couldn't hear.
If only you had talent.
If only you weren't defective.
Kael clenched his jaw.
He had endured. He had believed—stupidly—that persistence would be enough.
His vision darkened at the edges.
Cold crept into his limbs.
"I wasted my life," he murmured.
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
If I had left earlier…
If I hadn't begged…
If I hadn't hoped…
Regret settled in his chest, heavier than the chains had been.
A distant roar echoed across the ruins.
Kael's eyes widened slightly.
A demonic beast.
Close.
Too close.
He tried to move.
His body didn't respond.
The roar came again, louder this time. Stones shifted somewhere nearby.
Kael forced himself onto his back, staring up at the dull sky. His breath came in ragged gasps.
So this is how it ends, he thought.
Not fighting.
Not changing anything.
Just… fading.
His eyelids fluttered.
As consciousness slipped away, a final thought surfaced—clearer than all the rest.
If I could start over…
Darkness swallowed him.