Morning light filtered through a cracked roof tile in Lian Xue's hut, illuminating dust that danced like ash in the still air. She sat on her mat, motionless, eyes closed. Not meditating—calculating.
Below her, a tremor in the soil. Two people. Heavy footfalls. Male. Outer disciples. They weren't trying to be quiet.
She opened her eyes.
A soft pulse traveled through the micro-sensors she'd planted outside the hut. A thin beam of invisible light shimmered once through her wall, scanned their forms, and confirmed her suspicion: Flame-arm boy and his friend. Both walking toward her door, both annoyed.
> "She's not worth feeding," one said. "I heard Elder Jin's ready to boot her."
> "About time. If she can't even sense qi after three days in a spirit field, what's the point?"
> "I mean, she does scrub the beast pens."
> "So does a servant. And servants don't get spirit rations."
> "Yeah. I say let the wilds take her."
The voices moved past. They weren't even talking to her. Just about her. Like she wasn't there.
She didn't flinch. Her eyes trailed toward the window again.
Far away, clouds coiled over the forest edge like something waiting to crawl out.
> They'll move soon.
Inside her hut, a wire-thin strand of living metal slithered back under her skin. Her fingers twitched once. Her blade had sharpened another micron.
---
Later That Day
The elders didn't send a scroll or a messenger. They simply passed word through the disciples—classic cultivation tactic.
Let humiliation do the dirty work.
> "You've been reassigned. Permanently," Flame-arm boy grinned, dropping a bag of cheap rations at her feet. "No more beast pens. No more meals, either. Sect's elders say your 'trial period' is over. You're free to… survive."
> "If you can," someone added behind him.
Lian Xue stared at them.
They wanted her to break. Or beg. Or scream.
She just blinked once and picked up the bag.
"Enjoy dying," someone muttered as she walked away.
She didn't respond. But she was already planning routes—escape vectors, fallback sites, energy mapping locations for when her power started developing further.
> They want to kick me out? Fine. I'll walk out before they push.
---
Dusk – Outside Sect Territory
Red mist rolled over the abandoned foothills just beyond the sect boundary.
A perfect exile zone.
And an even better test site.
Lian Xue crouched beneath an overhang, the crumbling ruins of some old cultivation fort now her shelter. There were no beasts nearby. No humans either. The perfect place to hide.
Her drones fanned out. Camouflaged into moss, bark, even cracked stone. Above her, a satellite no wider than a fingernail hovered invisibly, mapping heat signatures and mana flows.
Then she saw it.
Two men arguing over coins by a ruined statue. She recognized one of them.
> A disciple who used to spit in her food tray.
She didn't care about revenge.
But she needed a stress test.
---
The First Kill
They didn't notice the drone.
They didn't see the filament of god-metal that slid through the broken stone like a snake.
They didn't hear the crunch until it was too late.
One of them dropped with a scream—paralyzed from the spine down. The other turned too late, drawing a knife, eyes darting. But there was no one to stab. Just shadows.
Then Lian Xue's foot came from above—slamming into the man's wrist, disarming him instantly.
> "Wha—?! You?!"
She said nothing.
The blade formed from her palm and rested against his throat.
> "Please—wait—!"
> "You brought this."
A clean strike. No scream this time.
She dragged both bodies into the rubble and pulled a sheet of vines over them. No one would find them. She kept the coins. She'd need them for town.
Her god-metal rippled again.
> Power Level: 2 unlocked
> Ability Gained: Phantom Steps – near-silent high-speed movement
---
Back at the Cliff
She returned to the overhang as the stars lit the sky.
Still no qi. Still no cultivation roots.
But her metal responded faster. Her blade was sharper. Her energy conversion was 3% higher than the day before. Her reaction speed had doubled since the sect kicked her out.
> They think I'm trash.
> Good.
Because no one watches trash. No one fears it. No one prepares for what hides beneath it.
She curled up on the cold stone floor and set her drones to silent patrol.
Tomorrow, she'd move deeper into the outer forest—where no sect dared patrol after dark.
Not because they were scared of beasts.
But because bandits, mercenaries, and broken rogue cultivators ruled the wilds.
Which meant more threats.
And more field tests.