"The Boy Who Refuses to Bow"
"Trash, are you deaf?"
The kick landed in his stomach before he even finished turning.
Astra Long folded over, breath exploding from his lungs as he hit the cold stone floor of the outer disciples' courtyard.
Laughter followed.
Three boys in washed-out sect robes stood over him, the faded Azure Dragon emblem on their chests making them feel far bigger than they actually were.
"Outer disciple Astra," one of them mimicked the elders' tone, "late for morning chores, absent for evening cultivation, no progress for a year… truly, an example to all of us."
The others snickered.
Astra pressed his palm to the ground and pushed himself up slowly.
His body trembled.
Spirit power? Almost none.
Realm? Barely at the Mortal Stage, just one step into cultivation, stuck on the boundary, unable to properly enter Spirit Realm.
In a world where strength decided everything, he was below the starting line.
The tallest of the three—Lin Wu—grabbed Astra's collar and lifted him just enough that his feet barely scraped the ground.
"You don't talk much, do you?" Lin Wu sneered. "The elders only keep you because we need someone to scrub the training grounds. You should be grateful we remind you of your place."
Astra's dark eyes lifted, meeting his.
There was no rage there.
No begging.
Just a tired, steady calm that somehow made Lin Wu more irritated.
"Let go," Astra said quietly.
Lin Wu's lip curled.
"Make me."
The fist slammed into Astra's face.
Lights burst behind his eyes. Blood filled his mouth. His body hit the stone again.
He lay there for a moment, staring up at the washed-out sky.