The next morning dawned with the scent of wet earth and crushed herbs drifting through the Silent Leaf Sect. Birds chirped lazily across the distant hills, and disciples gathered in the main yard, forming rows for daily drills.
Among them stood Lior Shen.
Golden-eyed. Proud stance. White robes embroidered with a lion's flame—he radiated presence like a blazing sun among candles. Even in silence, others gravitated toward him with awe and deference.
He was the youngest inner disciple accepted in a century. A "genius" born under a comet's blessing. His fate thread—pure gold—shimmered like a divine rope tethered to Heaven itself.
And Damon saw all of it.
From the shadow of a willow tree, Damon watched silently, his arms crossed. His new body still ached, but the clarity in his soul was sharper than any blade.
> "There he is. Heaven's Chosen."
The golden thread wrapped around Lior's body like armor, but Damon could see the subtle flaws—a small fray near the heart, a barely visible split at the left wrist.
> "So, even the stars aren't perfect."
Behind Lior, a group of sycophants laughed too loudly.
> "Senior Brother Lior, your sword technique yesterday was dazzling!"
> "I heard Elder Yan said you'll be selected for the Outer Realm Tournament!"
Lior offered them a courteous smile but said nothing. His eyes drifted—and locked with Damon's.
For a brief second, the world stilled.
> So… you notice me already, Damon thought.
Lior tilted his head. "You. The elder's adopted son, right?"
The other disciples followed his gaze and snickered.
> "Oh, him. They say he can't even open his second meridian."
> "He should just stick to sweeping the courtyard."
But Lior stepped forward, breaking ranks.
> "You've been watching me," he said, voice calm but firm. "Do you have something to say?"
Damon smiled faintly. "Not really. Just observing the star-child in his natural habitat."
Whispers erupted. A few even gasped. No one had ever spoken to Lior that way.
Lior's brow twitched—but he held his composure.
> "You seem… different today."
> "I had a long dream," Damon said. "And in it, I watched a lion get eaten by a crow."
Lior's eyes narrowed. "Careful with your words."
> "Oh, I'm always careful." Damon stepped forward, eyes glowing slightly. "It's fate that isn't."
---
Later that day...
Elder Yun stormed into Damon's quarters.
> "What were you thinking, speaking to Lior Shen like that?!"
Damon sat cross-legged, cultivating slowly, his body radiating a faint heat.
> "Testing the thread."
> "Thread?"
> "Never mind." He stood. "Elder, I'm ready to take the trial to become an outer disciple."
The old man blinked. "You've failed it three times already. You're not—"
> "I'm not the same anymore."
Damon's voice held no desperation. No arrogance.
Only certainty.
---
Two days later — The Outer Disciple Trial
In a circular courtyard beneath the open sky, young aspirants gathered, nerves high. The trial was simple: ignite your Qi, channel it through your meridians, and strike the Sect Stone with all your strength.
Most scored between 30–60. Talented ones like Lior had scored over 100.
Damon walked toward the stone as murmurs echoed.
> "He's trying again? What a joke."
> "Maybe he likes humiliation."
Elder Wu yawned and raised a hand lazily. "Begin."
Damon closed his eyes.
> Open the first meridian. Easy.
The energy within him pulsed.
> Second. Third. Fourth. All twelve... unlocked.
He exhaled slowly and struck the stone.
BOOM!
A shockwave erupted, sending nearby disciples stumbling. Dust rose into the air—and when it cleared, gasps spread like wildfire.
Score: 118
Above the stone, a faint red glow flickered for a moment. Only a few saw it. Most didn't know what it meant.
But Lior, watching from the balcony, did.
> A red fate spark... the mark of a calamity.
---
That night...
Inside his room, Damon sat cross-legged, eyes focused on the thread floating before him.
> "Your golden fate glows brighter each day, Lior Shen…"
He held a small, black dagger—the Fate Severing Blade, one of the forbidden relics from his past life, summoned through sheer will.
> "But I've stolen fate before."
He sliced downward—cutting a tiny sliver from a silver thread. Somewhere in the sect, a prodigy fell unconscious, robbed of his fortune.
> "And I'll do it again."
His smile darkened.
> "I am no longer your stepping stone. I am the villain who learns."
> "And villains… don't lose twice."
---
[End of Chapter 1]