Consciousness returned to Aethros Vorthen in fragments and pieces, like shattered glass slowly reassembling itself into a recognizable pattern, and the first sensation he became aware of was pain radiating through every nerve in a body that felt fundamentally wrong in ways he could not immediately identify.
His eyes refused to open at first, the lids feeling impossibly heavy as if weighted down by stones, and when he finally managed to force them apart, the darkness that greeted him was so complete that for a terrifying moment he thought the Cycle of Phoenix Rebirth had somehow failed and trapped his consciousness in the void between existence and oblivion.
But gradually his vision adjusted to reveal that he was lying on something soft, surrounded by walls he could barely make out in the faint moonlight filtering through a partially open window, and the realization that he had successfully reincarnated sent a surge of triumph through his chest that was immediately followed by confusion about where and when he had ended up.
Aethros tried to sit up and immediately discovered that his new body was significantly weaker than his original form had been even in early childhood, the muscles responding sluggishly to his mental commands as if they had forgotten how to obey the most basic instructions.
His arms trembled with effort as he pushed himself into a sitting position, and he had to pause halfway through the motion to catch his breath because apparently this body's stamina was pathetic compared to what he was accustomed to having available.
The room around him slowly came into focus as his eyes continued adjusting to the darkness, revealing furnishings that were expensive but showing signs of neglect and decay, like a wealthy family's holdings that had seen better days and were now sliding gradually into obscurity.
A mirror hung on the far wall, and Aethros forced his protesting body to stand and stumble across the room so he could see what face he would be wearing in this new life.
The reflection that stared back at him from the polished bronze surface showed a young man of perhaps eighteen years with features that were handsome enough but carried a softness suggesting he had never experienced real hardship or training.
His black hair hung limply around a face that was too pale and showed signs of recent illness, and his brown eyes lacked the sharp intelligence and fierce determination that Aethros remembered from his original appearance.
The body was tall but thin to the point of appearing malnourished, and when Aethros tried to sense his cultivation base, he discovered with mounting horror that his meridians were not just empty but badly damaged, crippled in a way that would prevent normal cultivation from being possible without extensive repair work.
Memories that did not belong to him began flooding into Aethros's consciousness as the merger between his reincarnated soul and the original owner of this body completed its final stages.
The young man whose body he now inhabited was named Hadrian Vex, youngest son of the declining Vex family that had once been prominent merchants and cultivators in a city called Fallen Phoenix.
Hadrian had been considered a genius in his early childhood, showing talent for cultivation that had given his family hope for restored glory, but a training accident five years ago had crippled his meridians and turned him from promising youth into worthless trash that brought only shame and disappointment to everyone who knew him.
The family had kept him alive out of obligation rather than affection, providing basic necessities while making it clear through a thousand small cruelties that they wished he would simply disappear and stop reminding them of their failure to produce a worthy heir.
The bitter irony of the situation was not lost on Aethros as he processed Hadrian's memories and understood exactly how thoroughly the Cycle of Phoenix Rebirth had planted him in the worst possible circumstances for someone trying to rebuild their cultivation from scratch.
He had gone from Supreme Lord of the most powerful sect in existence to trash young master of a declining family in a third rate city, from commanding Celestial God realm power to inhabiting a body with crippled meridians that any random Qi Gathering cultivator could defeat without breaking a sweat.
But Aethros had not survived ten thousand years by giving up when circumstances were unfavorable, and he recognized that this situation, while terrible, was also an opportunity to rebuild properly from the ground up without the assumptions and bad habits that had made him vulnerable to betrayal in his original life.
Aethros returned to the bed and sat down heavily as exhaustion from the simple act of crossing the room washed over him in waves that made his vision swim.
This body's physical condition was even worse than he had initially realized, weakened not just by the crippled meridians but by years of poor diet and lack of proper exercise, and he understood that before he could even begin thinking about cultivation repair, he needed to address the basic health problems that threatened to kill this body through natural causes long before old age.
The original Hadrian had apparently given up on himself completely after his meridians were crippled, spending his days in this room avoiding his family's contempt and his nights dreaming of a glory that would never return, and the gradual deterioration had brought him to the point where even standing for extended periods left him breathless and dizzy.
A knock on the door interrupted Aethros's assessment of his new circumstances, and before he could respond, the door swung open to reveal a young man of roughly the same age carrying a tray with what appeared to be the evening meal.
The newcomer's face showed genuine concern mixed with surprise as he took in the sight of Hadrian sitting upright rather than lying in bed as had apparently become his usual state.
"Young master, you are awake," the young man said while setting the tray down on a small table near the window. "I was beginning to worry when you did not respond to my earlier knocking, and I thought perhaps you had taken another turn for the worse like you did last week when the fever nearly claimed you."