The sound of the waterfall echoed endlessly through the cavern, a deep rhythm that blended with Wang Chung's slow breathing. The faint light of his campfire danced across the wet stone walls, revealing streaks of crimson where he had burned the bodies earlier.
He had long grown numb to the sight of blood.
But that night, something felt different.
As he sat in meditation, the bead within his soul pulsed softly, releasing a faint warmth that spread through his meridians. His chi flowed smoother than before — calm, purified, like a quiet river beneath the surface of chaos.
He opened his eyes, staring into the darkness ahead.
There was a sound — subtle, low, almost like… a voice.
> "...within… beneath… the stone…"
His heart skipped a beat. He looked around, but the cave was empty. The sound had come from deep inside his mind.
> "You again," Wang Chung murmured. "Are you… alive?"
No response. Only silence.
Still, something drew his attention to the far wall of the cavern. It was covered in moss, but a faint golden shimmer could be seen beneath the grime. Slowly, he stood and approached, brushing the moss away.
Underneath were ancient carvings.
Circles intertwined with strange runes — each line faintly glowing when touched. At the center of it all was a pattern identical to the bead's shape.
His breath caught.
> "This… this pattern…"
The bead inside him pulsed sharply, reacting to the carving. A strand of light shot out from his chest, striking the wall — and the entire cavern trembled. Dust fell from the ceiling as the runes lit up one after another.
The ground split open slightly, revealing a hidden passage below. A surge of spiritual pressure swept through the air, strong enough to make Wang Chung's knees buckle.
He steadied himself and stared into the dark hole.
> "So you were hiding something all along…" he whispered.
The bead gave no answer, but he could feel a faint pull — a calling.
He clenched his fists. "If this is fate, then I'll follow it."
---
The tunnel was narrow and steep. The deeper he went, the colder it became. His breath formed mist as the faint glow of the carvings guided his steps.
After what felt like an hour, he reached the end — a circular chamber sealed by a slab of black stone.
There, in the center, floated a single object — a broken ancient jade tablet, cracked and dim.
Wang Chung approached cautiously. The jade radiated a soft blue light that seemed to pierce his soul.
As he touched it, countless images flashed through his mind — scenes of worlds collapsing, immortal palaces burning, and a figure standing above the heavens with nine orbs circling him.
> "The… Celestial Immortal Emperor…"
The words appeared faintly in his mind, ancient and heavy, as if echoing from time itself.
The bead within him trembled violently. A wisp of energy flowed out, merging with the cracked jade tablet. The pieces of the tablet dissolved into dust and entered his chest, fusing with the bead.
Pain erupted.
It was like fire tearing through his veins. His body convulsed, his bones creaked, and his mind screamed. The purified chi inside him surged uncontrollably, trying to tear him apart.
He bit down hard, blood dripping from his lips.
> "I… won't… die here!"
He circulated his Essence Flow Art desperately. The purified chi from the bead stabilized slightly, fusing with the jade's strange energy. Slowly, painfully, the agony subsided.
When the chaos ended, Wang Chung fell to his knees, gasping.
Inside him, the bead had changed — no longer a simple sphere. Now, faint golden runes circled it like ancient seals.
And within his mind appeared a single new technique — written in light.
"Heaven-Defying Scripture: First Chapter — Root of Mortality."
He stared at the glowing words, his heart pounding.
A cultivation technique… from the heavens themselves.
He closed his eyes, letting the meaning sink in. It was a scripture meant for those with no spirit roots — for those rejected by the heavens. It allowed one to forge their own spiritual root through willpower and blood essence.
His lips trembled slightly, half a laugh escaping him.
> "So this is it… the path of the forsaken."
The bead pulsed gently — not with cold indifference, but with warmth.
He sat cross-legged in that ancient chamber, eyes closed, and began cultivating according to the Heaven-Defying Scripture.
Hours passed. The faint golden light around him intensified. His breathing slowed, his aura deepened, and the once-impure chi within him transformed — sharper, purer, and infinitely vast.
When he opened his eyes, a faint gleam of gold flashed within them.
His spiritual roots — once broken and useless — had begun to form.
For the first time in his life, Wang Chung felt the heavens no longer rejecting him.
He had stepped onto a path that did not belong to any sect or master — a path that defied destiny itself.
And deep within his soul, the bead pulsed once more, whispering faintly:
> "Rise… Celestial Immortal Emperor."