The morning mist had barely lifted when Kael's quarters filled with light—not sunlight, but a soft, bluish-white glow radiating from the mark on his chest. He sat cross-legged on the reed mat, the candle beside him flickering in rhythm with his breathing.
His core pulsed with quiet intensity.
The events from the day before still replayed in his mind: the Monolith, the voice, the awakening of a power that should not exist. Even now, as he meditated, Kael could feel the Soulborn Core alive beneath his skin—colder than fire, sharper than lightning, yet calm like moonlit water.
A knock came.
"Enter," Kael said without opening his eyes.
The door slid open, and Master Halron stepped inside. His presence carried weight, as always—years of cultivation had made even his silence commanding. He studied Kael with a strange intensity.
"You didn't sleep," Halron noted.
"No." Kael slowly opened his eyes. "I couldn't."
"Understandable. What happened to you… hasn't happened to anyone in a thousand years."
Kael met his gaze. "Then what am I, Master?"
Halron walked to the window and pushed it open. Cold mountain air swept in. "You're a Soulborn. Not by inheritance, but by echo. Your soul carries the memory of an ancient path—one long buried, and long feared."
"Why feared?"
Halron turned. "Because Soulborn cultivators don't draw their strength from the world. They draw it from within. From the soul itself. That kind of power... bends fate."
Kael absorbed that in silence.
"Which is why your training begins now," Halron added. "Not in a week. Not in a month. Today."
Kael stood immediately.
Halron motioned for him to follow. "We'll start with control."
The walk to the Rainstone Platform was brief, but Kael felt each step heavier than the last. The mountain air was thin, cutting through the layers of his robe, and yet, his body felt hot, as if the energy within him were beginning to stir, eager to burst free. He could feel the pulse of his Soulborn Core beneath his ribs, each beat like a distant drum, its resonance filling him with a strange restlessness.
Kael had never been good with control. That had always been the issue with him. He wasn't a gifted cultivator—at least, not in the traditional sense. While others relied on Qi or the external forces of the elements, Kael had always depended on his instincts. His raw tenacity had gotten him this far, and now, it seemed like his body was both his greatest asset and his most dangerous enemy.
"Focus," Halron's voice broke through his thoughts as they reached the Rainstone Platform.
The arena was a wide, circular training ground, built into the very mountainside. It was named after the smooth, dark stones that lined its surface, each one imprinted with old symbols and runes. Over time, the rain had worn away the carvings, leaving only faint traces of ancient scripts. It was here that Kael would learn the first lesson in controlling his Soulborn Core.
The wind had picked up, and the storm clouds from earlier still loomed overhead, threatening to break. Kael felt the weight of the sky pressing down on him, but he didn't flinch. This was his moment to prove that he could handle what was inside him.
"Stand," Halron instructed.
Kael did, taking his place at the center of the platform, his bare feet sinking into the cool stone beneath him. The rain began to fall harder now, a steady rhythm against the ground, almost like nature itself was holding its breath.
"Activate your core," Halron continued. "Let it flow through you."
Kael closed his eyes. He didn't need Halron to tell him. He had already learned to reach inward, to touch that cold, crystalline power that now resided inside him. His breathing deepened, steady and slow, and he could feel the mark on his chest flare to life. The air around him thickened, and his skin began to hum.
Wuuummm.
The silver-blue energy of the Soulborn Core spread outward, tracing an intricate pattern across his limbs, filling him with the sensation of power. But it wasn't the kind of energy he was used to—this wasn't the usual surge of Qi or physical might. It was pure, cold, ancient, like a forgotten language written into the fabric of his being.
"Good," Halron's voice came again, softer now. "Now circulate it. Let it move through your body like Qi, but with more purpose. You must learn to guide it, not just feel it."
Kael nodded, but inside, doubt flared. Could he really control this kind of power? The Monolith had given him a gift, but he had no clue how to wield it properly. It felt wild, untamed, like a river breaking its banks.
He focused, pulling the energy toward his legs, drawing it through his arms. He could feel it surge through his veins, like icewater flowing through his bones. But it wasn't painful—it was strangely comforting, as if his body was finally becoming whole.
But then, without warning, the energy twisted in on itself, surging wildly through his chest. Kael gasped as a sharp pain shot through his side. His hand instinctively reached for his heart, where the mark burned brighter.
"Focus, Kael!" Halron's voice broke through the pain.
Kael fought to control it, pushing the power back down, forcing it to settle. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his pulse quickened. The energy inside him felt like a wild horse, bucking and thrashing in every direction. But he wouldn't let it take him.
Slowly, inch by inch, he began to regain control. The sharpness of the energy dulled, and he felt the power settle within him once more, calm but persistent. His breath came faster, but steadier now, as he stabilized the flow.
"Well done," Halron said, stepping forward.
Kael opened his eyes, exhaling a shaky breath. His chest still ached, but the pain had faded to a dull thrum.
"You've done well for your first attempt," Halron continued, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Kael's posture. "But don't be too proud. Control isn't about strength. It's about patience. You must learn to wait for the right moment, and never force the power. The moment you lose patience, that's when it will control you."
Kael nodded, but inside, he felt a sense of unease. He had barely managed to control the energy. If he lost focus for even a second…
Halron's gaze softened. "I can see the fire in you, Kael. You have potential. But potential alone won't keep you alive in this world."
Kael lowered his head, accepting the elder's words. He knew that Halron's training was just the beginning, and there was much more to learn.
But even as he stood there, drenched in rain, Kael couldn't shake the feeling that something was stirring within the sect—something that would soon come for him. The Monolith hadn't just given him power—it had awakened a storm.
The storm that had rolled in with the morning was still heavy in the air as Kael left the Rainstone Platform. His clothes clung to him, soaked from both sweat and rain. He had expected to feel the exhaustion of a strenuous training session, but instead, he felt strangely invigorated. His core hummed with energy—an unfamiliar yet comfortable sensation.
As he made his way back to the inner sect's courtyards, the murmurs of the disciples filled the air. Their eyes followed him, some curious, others wary. Kael had long ago learned the importance of reputation within the sect, and now that his Soulborn Core had been awakened, his presence seemed to stir something deeper in the air.
"Kael."
He turned at the sound of his name. Standing at the entrance to the courtyard was Lira, her expression unreadable as always, but her eyes held a certain sharpness today.
"What's wrong?" Kael asked, a hint of concern creeping into his voice.
Lira stepped closer, her gaze flicking around as if ensuring no one else was nearby. "There's talk," she said, lowering her voice. "The inner disciples... they've noticed the mark on your chest."
"Let them talk," Kael muttered. "It doesn't concern them."
Lira hesitated, then shook her head. "It does. You don't understand, Kael. You're not just a disciple anymore. You're a potential target."
"A target for what?" Kael asked, narrowing his eyes. He didn't like the way her tone had shifted.
"The Soulborn Core isn't just rare," she said softly. "It's dangerous. There are those in the sect who will seek to control you... or eliminate you."
Kael felt a cold knot twist in his stomach. He had suspected something like this might happen, but hearing it confirmed felt different. "And you think they'll come after me?"
"I know they will," Lira said. "I've seen it before. Those who have power like you… they're never left alone. Not in a place like this."
Before Kael could respond, a sharp, mocking voice cut through the conversation.
"Well, well. If it isn't the Soulborn wonder himself."
Kael turned to see Seris walking toward them, her crimson robes flowing behind her as if she owned the entire courtyard. Her smirk was wide, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
"You're already making friends in high places?" Seris continued, her gaze flicking to Lira before resting on Kael. "How quaint."
Lira tensed but said nothing. Kael, however, met Seris' gaze with a cool, unreadable expression.
"What do you want, Seris?" Kael asked, his voice flat.
Seris circled around them, the heel of her boot clicking sharply against the stone. "Just wanted to see how the prodigy was holding up. You're not as fragile as I thought. Though I have to admit... that display of power earlier was impressive."
She paused, leaning in slightly. "But remember, Kael. Power like yours doesn't go unnoticed. And it certainly doesn't go unchallenged."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "I'm not afraid of challenges."
"Oh, I know," Seris said with a chuckle. "But you might want to be. The inner disciples have their eyes on you. And they don't take kindly to anyone who threatens their position."
Lira shot Seris a glare. "You should leave him alone."
Seris raised a hand in mock surrender. "Relax, Lira. I'm just pointing out the obvious. But you might want to tell your friend here that things aren't always as simple as they seem."
With that, Seris turned and walked away, leaving Kael and Lira standing in silence.
"You don't have to listen to her," Lira said after a long pause.
Kael didn't respond immediately. He was deep in thought, his gaze following Seris until she disappeared into the distance. He could feel the weight of her words lingering in the air. There was more to the sect than he had realized. More than just the training, the camaraderie, and the cultivation. There were politics. And in those politics, there was a constant game of power.
"I don't trust her," Kael said finally, his voice low. "But she's right about one thing."
Lira looked at him curiously. "What's that?"
"There are forces at play here that I can't see yet," Kael replied. "I need to be prepared. And I need to make sure I'm not just another pawn."
Lira's gaze softened, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—a hint of concern, or perhaps a deeper understanding.
"You're not alone in this, Kael," she said quietly. "I'll help you."
Kael nodded, grateful for her support but unsure how much it would truly matter when the time came. He didn't want to drag her into this mess if it could be avoided. But the reality was clear: He had no choice but to face whatever challenges lay ahead. Whether it was Seris, the inner disciples, or the ancient forces that were already stirring, Kael knew his path was set.
---
The following days passed in a blur of training. Halron's lessons became more intense, pushing Kael to the brink of exhaustion. The elder had been right—control was not about strength or speed, but about patience and precision. Every motion had to be deliberate. Every breath had to be timed perfectly. The Soulborn Core thrived on discipline.
But discipline alone wasn't enough.
The sect's inner disciples made their moves, too. Kael could feel their eyes on him as he walked through the courtyards. Whispers followed in his wake. Some were filled with awe, while others were thick with disdain. It didn't matter to Kael. He was used to being an outcast. But this time, it felt different. The attention was sharper. More dangerous.
The following days were filled with tension. Kael could feel it in the air—the quiet anticipation that seemed to follow his every step. It was the calm before a storm, and Kael knew it. The whispers in the courtyard had grown louder, the stares sharper. Something was coming. Something that would force him to step into the center of it all.
It started when he was summoned to the Inner Court.
Kael stood before the grand hall of the Inner Court, the massive stone doors towering above him. He could feel the weight of their gaze even before he stepped inside. The elders, the senior disciples, and the most influential members of the sect were gathered within. They were waiting for him.
"Kael, step forward."
Master Halron's voice broke through the silence, and Kael obeyed, his heart beating a little faster. He had never been in this position before. He had always been an outsider, an observer of the politics of the sect. But now, he was at the center of it, his very existence a challenge to the power structure that had been in place for generations.
The elders were silent as he walked into the grand hall, their eyes following his every move. Among them, Kael spotted familiar faces: Lira, who stood at the edge of the crowd with a quiet expression, and Seris, who watched him with an unreadable gaze.
But it was the man sitting at the highest seat, draped in robes of crimson and gold, who caught Kael's attention. The sect leader, Lord Zhan, regarded him with a calm, almost detached expression.
"You are the one they call the Soulborn," Lord Zhan said, his voice a deep, resonant tone that seemed to fill the room. "A mark of fate has been placed upon you, a power that not even the most experienced cultivators possess."
Kael nodded, though he felt no comfort in the title. He knew what they saw him as—a threat, a tool, a potential game-changer. But he had no interest in their politics. He had only one goal: to master his power and survive.
Lord Zhan's eyes narrowed slightly. "It is rare for a disciple to awaken such power, especially one who has no lineage, no bloodline to claim. You have been a wildcard in our ranks, Kael. A disruptor."
The silence in the hall was palpable. Kael could feel the weight of their expectations, their judgment. He knew what they wanted: to control him, to use his power for their own ends. But Kael wasn't a puppet to be manipulated.
"I am not here to play games," Kael said, his voice steady despite the tension. "I am here to train and grow stronger. That is all."
Lord Zhan studied him for a long moment. "Your arrogance will be your downfall if you aren't careful, Kael. Power like yours does not come without its costs. There are those among us who are already preparing to challenge you."
The words hit Kael like a slap, and for the first time since entering the hall, he felt his pulse quicken. He wasn't blind. He knew the sect's politics were always a volatile mix of ambition and rivalry. But now, his very existence had become the spark that would ignite a fire.
"Let them come," Kael said, his voice hard as steel. "I'll deal with them as I see fit."
Lord Zhan gave a small smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Very well, Kael. But remember, the sect is not a place for individual glory. We work as one. Disrupt the balance, and you will find yourself surrounded by enemies on all sides."
"I'm not here to disrupt," Kael replied, "but I won't be anyone's tool."
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Kael's defiance had struck a nerve, but he stood firm. He wasn't going to be intimidated. Not now. Not ever.
Lord Zhan's smile widened slightly, a cold glint in his eyes. "We shall see. Your strength may be impressive, but it is not enough to protect you from those who wish to control you. Remember, Kael, there are always consequences."
With that, the audience was dismissed. The whispers began immediately—some filled with admiration, others with scorn—but Kael didn't listen. He was already turning to leave when a voice stopped him.
"Kael."
Lira's voice was soft, but there was an edge of concern in it.
Kael turned to face her. "What is it?"
Lira stepped closer, her eyes scanning the room before settling on him. "You were reckless," she said quietly. "Lord Zhan is no fool. His words weren't just a warning—they were a test. And you failed."
"I don't care about his games," Kael said, his tone hard. "I'll face whatever comes."
Lira sighed, her expression a mixture of frustration and something else, something softer. "You need to be more careful. The Inner Court isn't just a place for cultivation. It's a battlefield. And you're right in the middle of it now."
Kael met her gaze, his resolve hardening. "Then I'll fight. I won't be anyone's pawn."
Before Lira could respond, a voice interrupted them, smooth and filled with sarcasm.
"Well, if it isn't the Soulborn prodigy himself."
Kael turned to see Seris approaching, her crimson robes swishing around her. Her smile was wide, though there was no warmth in it.
"Enjoying the attention, Kael?" she asked, her eyes glittering with amusement.
Kael didn't answer immediately. Instead, he sized her up. Seris was a force, and he could sense the venom beneath her playful exterior. She wasn't just an opponent in cultivation—she was an opponent in the game of power.
"I don't need attention," Kael replied, his voice calm. "I just need to survive."
Seris's smile faltered for a split second before it returned, more predatory this time. "Survival, huh? You'll need more than strength to survive here. There are forces at play that even you can't control."
"Then I'll fight those forces," Kael said firmly.
Seris tilted her head, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. "We'll see, Kael. We'll see."
The days that followed Kael's confrontation with Lord Zhan and the Inner Court were marked by a growing sense of unease. Whispers of his power spread like wildfire, and while many admired his potential, others saw him as a threat—one that needed to be eliminated or controlled.
The tension in the sect had reached a boiling point, and Kael could feel it every time he walked through the courtyards. His every move was scrutinized, his every word analyzed. It wasn't just the inner disciples who watched him now; even the outer disciples had become aware of the prodigy that had suddenly appeared among them.
One evening, Kael was summoned once more, this time to the Sacred Arena—a massive, open-air structure where the most important tests of strength and skill were held. It was a place where the sect's greatest warriors and cultivators had proven their worth. And now, it was Kael's turn.
He stood at the entrance to the arena, his chest tight with anticipation. The air was thick with the scent of rain, and the distant rumble of thunder warned of an approaching storm. It was as if the heavens themselves were about to bear witness to what was about to unfold.
"Are you ready?" Lira's voice broke through his thoughts, her presence at his side a steadying force.
Kael turned to face her, offering a small, grim smile. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"
Lira gave him a look, a mixture of concern and determination in her eyes. "This isn't just a fight for strength, Kael. This is a test of everything you've learned. You've got to prove you're not just a wild card—prove you can control that power of yours."
"I'll manage," Kael said, though the uncertainty in his voice betrayed his confidence. The truth was, he didn't know if he was ready. But what choice did he have?
With a nod, Lira stepped back as Kael was called into the arena.
The arena was massive, the stone floor slick with rain and bloodstains from past battles. The stands were filled with spectat