Winter's icy grip tightened, snow falling in heavy drifts, burying the paths of Sky Pillar Peak under mounds taller than a man.
Rowan Miles, a branch member of the Miles family reduced to a servant's fate, trudged forward on his bony horse, each step a battle through the deep snow.
Unlike the elite Miles heirs, who rode exotic beasts that glided over snow as if it were solid ground, vanishing into the mountain's heart with ease, Rowan struggled. Starving, frail, and shivering in the bitter cold, he was forced to follow them into the peak's depths.
Deep within Sky Pillar Peak, at a cliffside clearing, a group of elite heirs from the Miles family and other noble clans waited, their patience fraying.
"Liam, what's taking your servant so long?" Derek, a young lord from the Stone clan, snapped at Liam Miles.
A glint of malice flashed in Liam's eyes. "That wretched Rowan—did he die out there or what?" he growled.
"Liam, no offense, but with all the retainers in your family, why bring him? He's a scrawny nobody who might not even make it. Look at the time he's wasted! We came to hunt, full of excitement, and now the mood's ruined," Clara, another noble, said, her brow furrowed in irritation.
"Come on, don't let it spoil the day," said Ivy Miles, a sharp-eyed girl of sixteen, her voice as piercing as the one Rowan had heard at the mountain's base. "It's still early. If we didn't need someone to watch our mounts, we'd already be hunting. But when that useless Rowan shows up, I'll make him regret it."
"Let's wait a bit longer," another heir muttered, frowning. The group's mood soured, all because of Rowan's delay.
Liam and Ivy, siblings, were especially irked. Bringing Rowan was their idea—not out of kindness, but because he had a knack for tending beasts. In the Miles household, that was his role: a glorified stablehand.
Rowan shivered uncontrollably, his thin clothes no match for the cold. Unlike the martial artist elites, he was no cultivator—just an ordinary boy, branded a useless cripple unable to harness inner energy.
The trek through the snow nearly killed him.
"Finally," he gasped, teeth chattering, as he spotted Liam and the others ahead, his horse plodding forward.
"You pathetic slave! Were you waiting for nightfall to show up?" Ivy's rage flared as she saw Rowan's slow approach. With a shrill curse, she lashed out with her whip.
Crack!
Rowan knew no martial techniques. Ivy, a standout among the Miles youth and a sixth-tier aquired master, struck with precision. The whip hit before he could react, its force nearly snapping his frail body in two and sending him flying.
Riiip!
His tattered shirt tore apart, barbs ripping the cheap fabric to shreds, exposing his gaunt frame. Old and new scars crisscrossed his skin, and fresh blood welled up, streaming down.
Rowan staggered as if struck by a hammer, his insides churning, blood rising in his throat. He spat a crimson spray.
Thud!
He crashed into the snow, pain searing through him. Ivy's whip, though not at full strength, had nearly broken him. That he survived at all was a testament to his stubborn resilience.
But his weakened body couldn't take more. The whip's blow, followed by the impact of hitting the ground, was too much. Blood spurted again, his vision darkened, and he collapsed, unconscious.
Scarlet stained the pristine snow, vivid and stark.
Seeing Rowan collapse, Ivy panicked, clutching her brother Liam's arm. "Did I kill him?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
Liam shook his head with a faint smile. "Even if he's dead, it's just a servant. No need to worry."
"Exactly," Derek chuckled. "A slave's a slave. If he's gone, buy another. Or I'll send you a few of mine."
Ivy's face hardened. "We've got plenty of servants. I just don't want our mounts untended if he's dead."
"I'll check," Liam said, striding over. He saw Rowan was merely unconscious, not dead. His eyes narrowed, a cruel glint flashing. With a swift kick, he sent Rowan's limp form hurtling off the cliff.
Rowan stirred mid-air, coughing blood. Shock hit him—he realized Liam had kicked him into the abyss. "That bastard… kicking me to my death!" was his last thought before darkness reclaimed him.
"Why'd you kick him off?" Ivy asked as Liam sauntered back, unfazed.
"He was as good as dead. Might as well finish it," Liam said with a casual shrug.
Ivy nodded, understanding. The other nobles looked on, unbothered, as if such cruelty were commonplace.
"No one to watch the beasts now," Clara sighed. "We'll have to tether them and hope they don't bolt."
They secured their mounts and grabbed their bows and weapons, setting off to hunt.
Sky Pillar Peak's cliffs were treacherous, its depths teeming with powerful beasts and monsters, making the cliff bases uncharted territory.
Bang!
At the foot of one cliff, a massive stone platform jutted from the wall. A dark shape plummeted from above, slamming into the ground with such force that snow sprayed outward.
It was Rowan. Had Liam been there, he'd recognize the boy he'd kicked into the void.
Winter's thick snow saved him. The deep drifts cushioned his fall, sparing him from being pulped. In any other season, he'd have been a smear on the rock.
Even so, his bones were shattered. Without a miracle, Rowan was doomed.
Blood poured from him like a stream, soaking the snow. Even if the fall didn't kill him, blood loss soon would.
Boom!
Suddenly, a brilliant golden light erupted from the ground beneath Rowan.
The light, radiant yet soft, enveloped him like a cocoon.
"What! A Chaotic Heavenly Body," a faint voice whispered, too soft for mortal ears. If Rowan were conscious, it might've startled him to death.
Within the light, Rowan's pained expression eased, his face growing serene, as if in peaceful sleep.
Anyone watching would've seen the impossible: his bleeding stopped, the whip's wounds and fall's injuries began to heal rapidly. Scars—old and new—faded away. His gaunt, malnourished frame filled out, his sallow skin turning healthy and vibrant.
Unbeknownst to the sleeping Rowan, his body was transforming from this fall.
His body had changed—but would his fate transform as well?