When Li Shen awoke, the sun was already high.
The Tree of Trials had crumbled into ash. The blood circle was gone. And yet, something inside him had changed. His breathing was slower, deeper. The world seemed sharper—colors more vivid, sounds more distinct.
He flexed his fingers. His skin no longer bled. Scars that had taken years to form were fading like mist. But most of all, he felt it: Power, cold and coiled deep within him like a serpent waiting to strike.
I cultivated, he thought. Without a root.
He looked down at his hands and whispered the truth out loud:
"I don't follow the Dao of Heaven… I walk the Dao of the Void."
Suddenly, pain erupted in his head. A voice echoed again—the same voice from the night before.
You are Rootless, but not powerless. You are the Vessel of Void. But beware, for Heaven marks what it fears.
Then silence.
Back at the Outer SectLi Shen returned to the outer disciple quarters before dusk. No one noticed him. Why would they? He was the failed orphan—the boy without a future.
He passed disciples practicing sword forms, others meditating on spirit stones. Some had flames dancing in their palms, others summoned vines from the earth. And all of them ignored him.
But Li Shen smiled. Let them look down on him. For now.
He ducked into his ruined hut, lit a single candle, and began to meditate—not with breathing techniques, but with stillness. Void energy did not swirl. It didn't move like Qi. It didn't warm. It consumed.
Instead of drawing power from the heavens, he drew it from absence—from shadow, silence, forgotten things. A crack in the Dao itself.
Hours passed.
Suddenly, something stirred in the void inside him. A sensation like falling and flying at once. Visions flickered in his mind:
A mountain split by a single hand.
A figure standing beneath a broken moon.
A palace floating in the darkness, with a throne made of black glass.
And at its center… himself.
He gasped awake.
"What… was that?"
Somewhere Far Above…In the upper heavens, where golden palaces drift among the stars, a heavenly bell rang.
An elder in flowing robes opened his eyes during meditation. His expression darkened.
"An anomaly has awakened… one without root, yet whose path shakes the Dao."
"Send the Watchers. If left unchecked, it could… break the cycle."
And so, far above, Heaven turned its eye toward a forgotten boy in a forgotten sect.
Back to Li ShenThe next morning, Li Shen was approached by a sneering disciple named Wei Rong.
Wei had mocked him for years. A fire-root cultivator, already at the peak of Root Foundation, with a family in the inner sect. He wore crimson robes, and he carried a bronze spear polished to perfection.
"Still crawling around like a rat, Li Shen?" Wei smirked. "I heard the elders are finally revoking your training scrolls."
Li Shen looked up at him. Calm. Unshaken.
"I don't need your scrolls anymore."
Wei laughed. "You need more than that, cripple. Maybe a grave."
He thrust the spear forward—more for show than to hurt him. But Li Shen didn't move. His hand rose slowly.
And then…
Crack!
The spear shattered.
Wei Rong stumbled back, eyes wide. "What… what did you—?!"
Li Shen said nothing. He turned and walked away, the black mist curling around his fingertips fading as quickly as it came.
The heavens watched.
The void stirred.
And a boy with no future… took his first step toward breaking destiny.