The moon floated above, a ghostly orb watching silently over the wide city - heart of the Azure Dragon realm.
Kaelen moved down the dusty path leaving the Shadow Forest behind. Though his robe used to mean status, it hung in tatters - muddy and marked with old boar gore. Wind swept through his tangled hair under the dim sky. Anyone seeing him might've thought he was just some runaway scraping by after ruin.
Yet how he walked said otherwise.
He wasn't dragging his feet like someone who'd lost. Instead, he glided - steady and sharp, like a wild cat hunting. Each footfall was careful, quiet, purposeful.
"According to Kaelen's memories," he thought, analyzing the map in his head, "the Vance Estate is just past the Merchant District."
While moving ahead, folks on roads gave him dirty looks - horses turned aside, avoiding the so-called beggar. He paid no attention. Thoughts stayed locked onto the screen flickering at the edge of his sight.
[Current Quest: Return to the Clan.] [Objective: Reclaim your identity and humiliate those who wished for your death.] [Reward: 100 System Points + Random Skill Book.] [Failure Penalty: Death.]
Failure ain't allowed," Kaelen mumbled, a sharp grin tugging one side of his mouth. Not even close. It just wasn't
The Vance Estate sat like a stronghold in the middle of town. Behind thick stone barriers, ten feet tall, stretched wide plots full of greenery, workout spots, also fancy outdoor halls. Up front, heavy metal doors towered - watched by guards clad in red steel suits loyal only to the Vances.
The guards chuckled, propping themselves up on their spears. Loosened up, they took it slow. Tonight wasn't just any night. Word had spread - the Third Young Master, called worthless by many, had passed. Instead of tension, the family gathered for mourning rituals. That also meant wine flowed freely for the watchmen, plus lighter duties.
"Hey, check it out," a guard mocked, jabbing his spear toward the shape coming from the shadows. "Here's some poor soul aiming to steal leftovers."
The second guard spat on the ground. "Scram, filth! This is the Vance Noble Estate. If you want food, go dig in the dumpster behind the stables."
Kaelen moved on. Still heading forward, gaze fixed at the metal bars ahead.
I said stop!" yelled the first guard, moving ahead while bringing down his spear. Just a few inches from Kaelen's heart, the sharp end stayed frozen. "Can't you hear? Move again - then I'll slice you open like trout."
Kaelen came to a halt. His head lifted gradually, strands of black hair shifting aside - behind them, eyes burned with sharp, unsettling fire.
Kaelen whispered, "Unlock the door.".
The guard blinked, then burst out laughing. "Did you hear that? The beggar is giving orders! Who do you think you are, the Emperor?"
"I am Kaelen Vance," he replied, his voice devoid of emotion. "And I am going home."
The laughter stopped right away. One guard glanced at the other - pure surprise, then doubt. Their eyes narrowed toward the messy, wounded kid. Through the filth, his face seemed somehow recognizable.
"Third Young Master?" the second guard stammered. "But... but Master Darius said you fell off the cliff! He said you were dead!"
A ghost!" the first guard shouted, stumbling backward from fright. Yet suddenly, he noticed the shade Kaelen left on the stones below. Spirits don't leave shades like that.
The look of panic on the guard's face melted into a nasty grin. Because it hit him - what really happened. That guy in the dumpster? Never actually died. Just managed to live through the drop.
"So, the cripple survived," the guard spat, gripping his spear tighter. "Bad luck for you, kid. Master Darius has already declared you dead. If you walk in there now, it will ruin the funeral."
The guard's eyes darkened with malicious intent. "If I kill you right here and dump your body in the river, I'll probably get a bonus from Master Darius."
[Target Identified: Vance Family Guard] [Cultivation: Body Tempering Stage 3] [Status: Hostile]
Kaelen squinted. Level three now. The guard ranked just above him on paper. In this path of strength, even one tier often meant no chance at all.
Still, Kaelen wasn't only into cultivation - he'd fought in battles. This guard? Just a reckless brute gripping his spear like it was nothing more than a cleaning tool.
"You want to kill me?" Kaelen tilted his head. "Try it."
"Die, trash!"
The guard lunged fast, spear cutting toward Kaelen's chest - deadly force behind it, fueled by inner energy.
To someone ordinary, the spear might've looked like a streak. Yet Kaelen held the Eyes of Truth.
Everything got quiet, like the world was holding its breath.
Kaelen noticed the guard's shoulder twitch just before he moved. As the blade started forward, Kaelen tracked its path. Right then, a gap appeared - just enough to act.
Too slow.
Kaelen held his ground. Instead, he moved ahead, shifting his body sideways. As the spear tip skimmed his ribs, it tore the silk robe yet left his skin untouched.
Just as the guard started pulling back, Kaeln's arm snapped forward - fast, sharp - clamping onto the spear's handle.
"Huh?" the guard choked out.
Kaelen ripped the spear, dragging the stumbling guard closer. Meanwhile, he slammed his knee up like a jackhammer punching through concrete.
CRACK.
The crack of the guard's nose broke through the dark sky.
Blood splattered onto the ground. Then he yelled, letting go of the weapon while grabbing his broken nose.
Kaelen twisted the spear fast, no hesitation. Then - whipped the end in a sharp curve, cracking it across the guard's temple. Down went the guy, out cold by the time he landed.
The second guard didn't move, jaw slack. His eyes jumped to his buddy sprawled in red puddles, then toward the so-called "lame guy" gripping the spear.
"Y-you..." the second guard stammered, his legs shaking. "You can't use Qi! You have blocked meridians!"
Kaelen let go of the weapon - it bounced hard off the rock.
"Open the gate," Kaelen repeated, his voice calm. "Or do you want to join him?"
The guard rushed to the lever, hands shaking as he dropped the keys. 'It's unlocking now - just leave me alone!'
The huge metal doors creaked while opening slowly.
Kaelen moved forward, ignoring the guard pressed tight to the wall. His tattered robe he fixed as he pushed ahead down the central lane. Light spilled from the Ancestral Hall, pulling him in without delay.
The Ancestral Hall bustled with folks. This huge structure stood proud - red columns held up a roof shingled in golden tiles. Within, flames from countless pale candles danced, stretching dark silhouettes across the stone walls.
The whole Vance family had shown up. Older members, dressed in gray cloaks, perched on tall seats while they drank their tea. The younger trainees huddled together here and there, chatting quietly or passing rumors around. Right in the middle of the space sat a tiny shrine - Kaelen Vance's picture rested there, surrounded by pale funeral blossoms.
Yet the mood wasn't gloomy - almost cheerful, really.
"It's a shame about Kaelen," a fat merchant laughed, holding a glass of wine. "But honestly, it's better for the family. A cripple as an heir? It was embarrassing."
"I agree," a woman replied, fanning herself. "Now Darius can take the position. He is a true genius. He reached the 5th Stage of Body Tempering at only eighteen!"
Up ahead in the room, beside the leader of the clan - Kaelen's dad - stood Darius Vance.
Darius stood tall, built strong, good-looking - yet wore a cocky grin like it was glued there. Instead of crying, he faked wiping a tear; meanwhile, his eyes sparkled with quiet victory.
"Thank you all for coming," Darius announced, his voice projecting across the hall. "My cousin Kaelen was... special. He was weak, yes, but he was family. I tried to save him, but he slipped. It breaks my heart."
"You are too kind, Darius," an Elder praised him. "Kaelen was useless. You are the future of the Vance Clan."
Darius bowed humbly. "I will do my best to fill the void he left behind. Tomorrow, I will officially accept the title of Clan Heir."
BOOM!
The massive twin doors to the old hall burst apart, wood cracking from the kick. Wind rushed inside - candles flickered out, one after another.
The whole room fell totally quiet. All eyes shifted to the doorway.
Standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the moonlight, was a figure dripping with blood and mud.
Darius flinched - his grip slipped. The glass hit the ground hard, bursting into pieces, noise ripping through the air sharp as a blast.
K-Kaelen?" Darius muttered, color draining from his cheeks like snow under sun.
Kaelen moved into the room. People split apart as he passed - some cringing, others just stunned. Down the middle he went, no hesitation. His shoes dragged dirt across the clean red floor covering.
He halted just before the altar. Staring at his painted face, he suddenly shoved it down.
Clang.
The frame snapped when it hit the ground.
Kaelen pivoted around, facing the chamber. His gaze swept over the stunned Elders. Then landed on his dad - like he'd glimpsed something unholy. Last thing? A stare-down with Darius.
A shiver ran down his spine when Kaelen grinned - sharp, lifeless eyes locking on target.
"Sorry I'm late for the party," Kaelen said, his voice echoing through the silent hall. "I had to crawl my way back from hell. But don't worry... I didn't come back alone."
He moved closer to Darius - sudden pressure filled the space, like the atmosphere had tightened, crushing every breath.
"I brought a debt with me, cousin. And I'm here to collect."