Chapter 1: The Discarded Youth
The wooden training dummy splintered under the force of the kick, sending jagged shards flying across the dusty courtyard.
Ling Tian wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his tattered sleeve, his muscles trembling from exhaustion. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the Violet Thunder Sect's outer disciple training grounds. He had been practicing since dawn, long after the other servants had retired for the day.
Again.
He reset the dummy, his breath ragged. His hands were raw, his knuckles split from hours of striking the unyielding wood. But he couldn't stop. Not yet.
"Look at this," a mocking voice called from behind him. "The little servant boy thinks he can cultivate."
Ling Tian didn't turn. He knew the voice—Liu Yang, an inner disciple of the Violet Thunder Sect and the son of one of the elders. A bully who had made Ling Tian's life miserable ever since he had been taken in as a servant after his clan's destruction.
"Leave me alone, Liu Yang," Ling Tian muttered, throwing another punch.
A hand clamped down on his shoulder, spinning him around. Liu Yang's sneering face filled his vision, flanked by two other inner disciples.
"Did you just talk back to me?" Liu Yang's grip tightened, fingers digging into Ling Tian's collarbone.
Ling Tian gritted his teeth. He knew what was coming.
A fist slammed into his stomach, driving the air from his lungs. He doubled over, gasping, but Liu Yang wasn't done. A knee crashed into his face, sending him sprawling onto the dirt.
Blood filled his mouth.
"Pathetic," Liu Yang spat. "A worthless remnant of a dead clan. You should have died with the rest of your kin."
Ling Tian's vision swam, but he forced himself to push up onto his elbows. His fingers dug into the earth.
Dead clan.
The words burned worse than the pain.
Liu Yang leaned down, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "Tell me, servant. Where did your clan hide the Key?"
Ling Tian froze.
Key?
Before he could respond, Liu Yang's boot connected with his ribs, flipping him onto his back. Stars exploded in his vision.
"Enough games." Liu Yang reached into Ling Tian's robes, tearing open the threadbare fabric. His fingers closed around the small jade pendant Ling Tian always wore—the only remnant of his past.
"No—!" Ling Tian lurched forward, but one of the other disciples kicked him back down.
Liu Yang examined the pendant, his eyes narrowing. "This is worthless." He tossed it aside, where it landed in the dirt with a dull thud.
Then the beating truly began.
Fists. Kicks. The sharp crack of bones.
Ling Tian curled in on himself, his world narrowing to pain and the taste of iron.
Eventually, the blows stopped.
"Throw him in the ravine," Liu Yang ordered. "Let the beasts finish him."
Hands grabbed him, dragging him across the ground. The last thing Ling Tian saw before darkness took him was the glint of his jade pendant in the fading light.
Then he was falling.