The rain fell in sheets, cold and unrelenting, turning the dirt path outside the shack into a slurry of mud. Kaelen stood in the downpour, allowing the water to wash away the blood on his hands, but the metallic scent lingered in his nostrils—a scent he found comforting.
Inside the shack, the servant's corpse was cooling rapidly.
Kaelen turned back to the body. To the old Kaelen, this was a terrifying crime punishable by death. To the Sovereign, it was a resource.
"System," Kaelen commanded silently. "Analyze the target."
> [Target Analysis]
> Name: Servant Liu
> Cultivation: Body Refining Stage 2 (Physical Strength Focus)
> Status: Deceased
> Extractable Essence: Low
>
"The Heaven-Devouring Scripture does not waste," Kaelen murmured.
He placed a pale hand on the corpse's chest. He didn't just want the residual atmospheric Qi; he wanted the blood essence. In the cultivation world, blood was the carrier of vitality.
Devour.
The sensation was visceral. A crimson energy, invisible to the naked eye but roaring in Kaelen's spiritual sense, surged from the corpse into his palm. It traveled up his arm like liquid fire, pooling in his newly unblocked dantian.
The corpse withered visibly, the skin tightening against the bone as if aged fifty years in seconds.
> [System Alert]
> Vitality Absorbed.
> Strength +2
> Agility +1
> Current Cultivation: Body Refining Stage 1 (Peak).
>
"Barely a mouthful," Kaelen scoffed, kicking the husk aside. "But it stabilizes the foundation."
He stepped out of the shack. His clothes were little more than rags, thin linen soaked through. He needed better gear, and he needed it before the sun rose. If he was to survive the Vane family, he couldn't look like a beggar.
He moved toward the Servant Quarters on the outskirts of the estate. His movements were different now. Gone was the slouch of the beaten dog. He moved with the silence of a predator, his footsteps syncing with the rhythm of the falling rain to mask the sound.
As he approached the low-roofed building where the male servants slept, he heard raucous laughter spilling from a slightly open window.
"...saw his face when Lady Elara crushed the engagement token? Priceless!" a voice boomed.
"Master Thorne beat him so bad I thought his spine snapped. I bet the Young Master doesn't make it through the night," another voice jeered.
Kaelen paused by the window. He recognized the voices. These were Thorne's personal lackeys—low-level guards who enjoyed tormenting the original Kaelen for sport.
Three targets inside, Kaelen assessed, peering through the crack. Two at the table drinking rice wine. One sharpening a blade in the corner.
Target Scans:
* Guard A: Body Refining Stage 3.
* Guard B: Body Refining Stage 3.
* Guard C: Body Refining Stage 2.
The gap between Stage 1 and Stage 3 was significant in terms of raw muscle density. A Stage 3 cultivator could punch through a wooden plank. Kaelen, at Stage 1, was physically weaker.
But cultivation was only one factor. Experience was the other.
Kaelen pushed the door open. The hinges groaned, cutting through the laughter inside.
The three men froze. The warm light of the oil lamps flickered, casting long shadows. When they saw the drenched, pale figure standing in the doorway, confusion washed over them.
"Kaelen?" The guard at the table, a burly man named Goran, blinked. He slammed his cup down. "You little cockroach. You're supposed to be dying in your shed."
Goran stood up, his face flushed with alcohol. "Did you come here to beg for food? Or did you come to lick my boots?"
The other two laughed. The guard in the corner didn't even bother to stand up, continuing to run his whetstone over his dagger.
Kaelen stepped inside and closed the door behind him. The click of the latch was soft, yet it echoed with finality.
"I came for clothes," Kaelen said, his voice flat. "And a weapon. Yours will do."
Goran stared for a second, then roared with laughter. "Did the beating scramble your brain? You want my sword?" He walked around the table, flexing his arms. His muscles were thick, infused with crude Qi. "I'm going to break your legs for real this time, trash. Then I'll drag you to Master Thorne for a bonus."
Goran lunged. It was a clumsy attack, a wide haymaker fueled by arrogance and booze. To a normal eye, it was fast. To Kaelen, it was moving in slow motion.
Too wide. weak footing. Center of gravity exposed.
Kaelen didn't retreat. He stepped into the guard's space.
Just as the fist was about to connect, Kaelen dropped his weight, ducking under the swing. In the same motion, he drove his elbow upward—not into the chin, but directly into the man's throat.
Thud.
It was a wet, sickening sound.
Goran choked, his hands flying to his crushed windpipe. Before he could stumble back, Kaelen swept his leg, kicking the back of Goran's knee. The big man collapsed. Kaelen grabbed the back of Goran's head and slammed his face into the stone floor.
CRACK.
Silence descended on the room.
Goran lay motionless, blood pooling rapidly around his head.
> [Critical Hit]
> [Combat Experience Gained]
>
The other two guards stared, their mouths agape. The impossible had just happened. The trash, the cripple, had just neutralized a Stage 3 cultivator in two moves.
"You..." The second guard at the table scrambled back, knocking over his chair. "You used a demonic art! You cheated!"
The guard in the corner dropped his whetstone and grabbed his dagger, his face pale. "Kill him! He's injured! It was a fluke!"
Both men charged.
Kaelen's eyes glowed with a faint, predatory light. "System. Activate [Pain Nullification]."
> [Pain Nullification Active.]
>
The dagger-wielder reached him first, thrusting toward Kaelen's gut. Kaelen twisted his body. The blade sliced through his side, cutting skin and muscle. Blood sprayed.
Normal logic dictated that a person would flinch, hesitate, or pull back from the pain. Kaelen did none of those things. He ignored the knife entirely, stepping forward onto the blade to close the distance.
The guard's eyes widened in horror. He's not stopping?
Kaelen's fingers formed a rigid claw. He struck the guard's eyes.
"ARGH!" The man screamed, dropping the dagger and clutching his face.
Kaelen spun, delivering a roundhouse kick to the man's temple. The guard dropped like a sack of potatoes.
The last guard, the one who had accused him of cheating, was trembling. He held a wooden stool as a shield, backing into the wall. "Stay back! I'll scream! The patrol will come!"
Kaelen pulled the dagger out of his own side. He didn't even wince. The wound was already beginning to clot thanks to the remnants of the Bone Forging Pill and his rising adrenaline.
"Scream," Kaelen said, walking closer, the bloody dagger held loosely in his hand. "Let them come. It saves me the trouble of hunting them."
The guard threw the stool. Kaelen batted it aside with his forearm.
He cornered the man.
"Please! Young Master Kaelen! I was just following orders! It was Thorne! Thorne told us to starve you!" The man fell to his knees, kowtowing.
Kaelen looked down at him. There was no mercy in his gaze, only a cold calculation.
"Thorne will join you soon," Kaelen said.
He swung the dagger.
Ten minutes later, Kaelen emerged from the Servant Quarters.
He was wearing a clean set of dark grey training robes—stolen from Goran's trunk. They were a bit loose, but they were warm. Tucked into his belt was a steel dagger and a pouch containing twelve low-grade Spirit Stones found in the guards' pockets.
Inside the room behind him, three dried husks lay on the floor.
> [System Report]
> Vitality Absorbed: 3 Targets.
> Cultivation Advancement: Body Refining Stage 2.
> Current Essence Points: 150/500 for next breakthrough.
> Quest Triggered: First Blood.
> Objective: Eliminate the source of your humiliation.
> Target: Thorne Vane.
> Time Limit: 3 Days.
> Reward: ???
>
Kaelen looked up at the Vane Manor, looming on the hill like a dark beast. The rain had stopped, leaving a heavy mist in the air.
He clenched his fist, feeling the new strength coursing through his muscles. Body Refining Stage 2. It was still weak compared to the Elders or the true geniuses, but in one night, he had accomplished what the previous owner couldn't do in eighteen years.
"Three days," Kaelen whispered, thumbing the hilt of his stolen dagger. "I won't need that long."
He turned away from the manor, heading toward the back mountains. To kill Thorne, a Stage 6 cultivator, he needed more than just scraps. He needed to hunt beasts.
The night was young, and the Sovereign was hungry.