Chapter 3: Trash Martial Spirit
On the Soulstone Altar, a single beam of light shot forth, illuminating Xiao Chen's figure in a soft, ethereal glow.
For a heartbeat, the entire courtyard held its breath. Time seemed to freeze.
Even Xiao Rongyu, ever calm and composed, felt her expression waver. Her amber eyes locked on the altar, a flicker of nervous anticipation dancing within them.
Further ahead, Xiao Han leaned forward. His usual arrogant smirk faded, his mind consumed by a single thought:
"Xiao Chen… my greatest rival."
His heart pounded—excited, anxious, uncertain. He had always hated Xiao Chen's existence. Yet, he could never deny the monstrous talent of the boy who stood above them all.
Today, everything would be decided.
Even the twins, Xiao Lan and Xiao Li, stood wide-eyed, forgetting to breathe as they stared at the altar.
Then— it happened.
A phantom image slowly materialized behind Xiao Chen.
A spear.
Its outline was faint… incomplete… fragile.
The glowing light dimmed, and silence reigned.
The surrounding spiritual energy trembled, the truth hitting everyone like a thunderclap.
A Low-Grade Mortal Martial Spirit.
Trash.
For a breathless second, the heavens themselves seemed to freeze.
And then— the courtyard erupted.
"A Low-Grade Mortal Martial Spirit?!" someone screamed in disbelief.
"Impossible! How can this be?"
"He's supposed to be the Xiao Family's number one genius!"
"Hahahaha! Trash! What peak genius awakens a martial spirit weaker than a common disciple?!"
Mocking laughter spread like wildfire.
"Serves him right for acting untouchable!"
"I bet he only relied on luck to reach the peak of the Martial Core Realm at fifteen! Without a strong martial spirit, his future is over!"
"He'll never even touch the Martial Master Realm! Hahaha!"
"I thought he'd awaken a Heaven-Grade Martial Spirit… now look at him… worse than commoners!"
Disciples who once envied Xiao Chen now jeered openly, their faces twisted with schadenfreude.
Even the elders sat frozen, struggling to process the cruel twist of fate.
Elder Xiao Jian's lips trembled. His proud, dignified face crumbled. "There… there must be a mistake…"
Elder Xiao Mei's delicate hands clenched tightly, knuckles pale. "Mortal-Grade? The lowest possible rank?" She had expected greatness—how could it end like this?
On the high platform, Xiao Hao—the patriarch, Xiao Chen's father—sat like stone. He had an handsome face and appear to be in his late thirties, he bare a striking resemblance to Xiao Chen. However his face betrayed no emotion, but beneath his sleeves, his fists were clenched so tightly his nails dug into flesh, blood seeping down his palms.
"Is this… the punishment of the heavens?" Xiao Hao whispered bitterly. "My son… destined for mediocrity?"
Yet, deep within, a stubborn voice rose in defiance.
"No… did you not see him, Hao? There was no fear. No shame. Even facing this cruel fate, the boy did not flinch. There's no way… no way that is truly his martial spirit."
Xiao Hao gritted his teeth, blood staining his sleeves.
"I saw it… I saw it."
Meanwhile, Xiao Han leaned back slowly, a satisfied smirk creeping onto his lips.
"So… this is his fate."
All his life, Xiao Han knew—so long as Xiao Chen stood, his path to becoming Patriarch would be blocked.
But now?
Now, with Xiao Chen reduced to a cripple…
"There is no place for trash in the Xiao Family."
His gaze lowered, triumph in his eyes.
High above, Elder Xiao Feng stood silently, hands clasped behind his back. His face revealed nothing—but inwardly, a storm raged.
His gaze shifted to Xiao Han—the boy who had just awakened a majestic silver-scaled python, noble and proud, coiled with strength.
A High-Grade Earth-Rank Martial Spirit.
A faint smirk ghosted across Elder Feng's lips.
"Good. With this, Xiao Han's path to Patriarch is secured."
Memories long buried clawed their way to the surface.
Decades ago, Elder Feng had been but a struggling Martial Master—desperate, hopeless. His every attempt at a breakthrough had failed.
Until Xiao Yang appeared.
Brash. Reckless. Daring.
On one of his insane adventures, Xiao Yang returned from a forbidden ruin—holding a single Earth-Grade herb: the Verdant Soul Lotus.
Without hesitation, he offered it up.
"Senior Feng… your breakthrough matters more to the family than my reckless dreams."
The words still echoed.
That herb had shattered his bottleneck, pushing him into the Martial Grandmaster Realm.
But fate was cruel. When the family's great struggle for power began, Elder Feng could do nothing as Xiao Yang's dreams were crushed.
Now… before him stood Xiao Yang's son—Xiao Han—radiating the same brilliance his father once carried.
"I could not repay the father… but the son… I will see him rise."
A silent vow was made.
Meanwhile, in the crowd, the laughter and scorn continued. An elder in the distance sneered, "What a waste of resources."
But amidst the chaos… one figure trembled.
Xiao Rongyu.
Her lips parted, but no sound came. Panic gripped her chest.
"Brother Chen…"
Her voice was barely a whisper, quivering with disbelief.
This was Xiao Chen—her best friend, her brother in all but blood. The one she admired most.
And now… this?
She couldn't breathe.
Yet, at the heart of the storm—Xiao Chen stood tall.
Unmoving. Unshaken.
Expressionless.
As if… he had already expected this.
His calm gaze swept across the courtyard, unbothered by the mockery, the pity, the betrayal.
The Xiao Family had turned against him.
His future… shattered in an instant.
But Xiao Chen…
Did not waver.