Chương 8: The Return

Reyn stood atop the shimmering edge of a flying sword, the biting wind of the high altitudes whipping his robes into a frantic rhythm. Under the stern escort of his sect seniors, the journey back to Thunder Abyss City was nearing its end, yet a vast expanse of treacherous terrain still lay beneath them. The group cut through the clouds, a small fleet of cultivators soaring through the heavens.

"Accelerate!" Senior Brother Liu, leading the formation, barked a sharp command. Alongside several other disciples, he channeled his spiritual energy downward. The spiritual light beneath their feet surged with blinding intensity, the blades humming as they tore through the atmosphere. Below them, the world was a blurred tapestry of ancient, desolate forests—a primordial wilderness choked with thick miasma and tangled undergrowth where humanity held no sway.

It was a realm ruled by low-level spirit beasts, predators lurking in the shadows of the emerald canopy. The sonic boom of their passage disturbed the silence of the woods. Suddenly, a grey blur erupted from the dense foliage. A Rank 1 Wind Wolf, its fur as coarse and sharp as iron needles, lunged into the air. Its eyes burned with a feral hunger, and its ivory fangs glistened with saliva.

Sensing the presence of living prey above, the beast let out a blood-curdling howl, its claws wreathed in gale-force winds as it leaped with suicidal ferocity toward the passing cultivators. Senior Brother Liu didn't even blink. To a cultivator of his standing, such a beast was nothing more than an annoyance, a gnat to be swatted. With a languid movement, he flicked his finger. A needle-thin beam of sword-light, condensed from pure spiritual essence, hissed through the air.

It was a streak of lethal brilliance that moved faster than the eye could track. Pfft. A soft, wet sound echoed as the light pierced the wolf's skull with surgical precision. The beast's momentum died instantly; its snarl was cut short into a choked gurgle. Like a stone, the once-fearsome predator plummeted back into the dark abyss of the forest, dead before it hit the ground. The entire execution was fluid, a display of casual dominance that didn't even cause the flying sword to waver in its flight.

The Lei Clan scions witnessed this display of power with wide-eyed awe. For many, it was their first true glimpse into the yawning chasm between mortals and those who walked the path of the heavens. Reyn, standing closest to the front, felt a cold shiver of envy and longing. He knew Liu was merely an ordinary outer sect disciple, yet he possessed the power to command the elements and slay monsters with a gesture. This was the essence of cultivation: the absolute control over life and death.

As the wind roared in his ears, Reyn's hand drifted toward his chest, feeling the cold, hard surface of the hidden jade pendant. A bitter realization settled in his gut. He was a fraud. A mortal with no spiritual roots, a man of 'Mortal Fate' who had only bypassed the Immortal Ascension Trial through the deception of a mysterious relic. His foundation was a lie, a castle built on shifting sands. If the truth were ever unearthed, he would be stripped of everything and cast back into the mud.

His knuckles turned white as he gripped his palms tight. Behind his calm facade, a torrent of icy hatred and crimson vengeance began to boil. The memories he kept locked away—the screams of his kin, the smell of burning wood, and the sight of his family being slaughtered like cattle—surfaced with agonizing clarity. He had been a discarded pawn, a helpless witness to his own ruin because he was weak. In this world, weakness was the only true sin. It had cost him his parents, his home, and his dignity.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. These ghosts of the past acted as a chilling anchor, dragging him away from the fleeting thrill of the flight. Unlike the others, he wasn't here for glory; he was here for survival and retribution. If he remained mediocre, if he allowed himself to be complacent with his fake status, he would never have the strength to tear the throats out of those who had destroyed his life.

The path of cultivation was his only road to vengeance. Reyn's gaze hardened into flint. He swore a silent oath to the heavens: he would work a thousand times harder than any genius. He would polish his fake roots until they became real, or he would find a way to transcend the limits of his flesh. He would climb to the peak of the immortal world, not just to see the view, but to ensure that he would never again be at the mercy of another man's whim.

As the jagged skyline of Thunder Abyss City appeared on the horizon, Reyn squinted against the sun. The journey home was almost over, but his war had only just begun. He would become a top-tier cultivator, a being who could traverse the four seas and dominate the heavens, rewriting his destiny in blood and fire.

Inside the Great Hall of the Lei Clan, Lei Wanjun sat upon the high seat of the Patriarch. Though his expression was a mask of stoic calm, his pulse was erratic. He had gambled heavily, using the Profound Iron Essence he had acquired to bribe the path for his son, Lei Tianqi. He wasn't entirely certain if the treasure would be enough to secure a spot in the Xuanxiao Sect. His eyes scanned the elders gathered below. He convinced himself that if his son—the pride of the clan—couldn't make it, then no one could.

Certainly not that weakling Reyn. The thought of Reyn even standing a chance was so absurd it almost made him laugh.

"Why are they not here yet?" Sixth Elder muttered, pacing the floor with restless energy.

"My grandson, Lei Li, has a solid foundation in internal martial arts. Surely the Immortals would see his potential?"

"Hard to say," a pale-faced elder remarked with a thin smile.

"The Immortals care for spiritual roots, not the brawling techniques of the mundane world. Even a martial arts grandmaster is but a mortal in their eyes."

"My niece has always been clever and sharp," another added.

"She has that fluid grace. I'd bet she has a Water Spirit Root."

"Nonsense," another interrupted.

"If anyone is going to soar, it's Lei Tianqi. He's been the best of the younger generation since he could walk. If the Xuanxiao Sect wants talent, they'll take him."

"Indeed," the elders nodded in unison.

"If Tianqi becomes an Immortal, our clan's status will skyrocket. The Wu Clan won't dare look us in the eye. One fireball from a cultivator and their entire compound would be ash!" Lei Wanjun felt a swell of pride at their words, though he maintained a humble front.

"Our boys and girls are all capable. Any of them could be chosen."

"True, Patriarch," one elder said, his voice dropping to a hiss.

"But one of them isn't truly a Lei anymore. That boy Reyn... he's a registered disciple now. That's a loose thread we can't afford." Lei Wanjun's face darkened, his eyes flashing with a murderous glint.

"Worry not. I have ways to make him vanish permanently." Suddenly, a sharp whistle tore through the air. Shua! Lei Wanjun bolted upright, his face pale as he shouted to the guards, "Clear the area! Everyone, fall back! Do not dare offend the Immortals!" He straightened his robes with trembling hands and led the elders outside to kneel. As the flying swords descended, the pressure was suffocating. Throughout the trip, Senior Brother Liu had spoken only to Reyn.

His tone had been cordial, even warm, but that warmth was a private circle. When his gaze fell upon the rest of the Lei Clan, it was filled with the icy indifference one might show to a colony of ants. Reyn stepped off the sword, offering a faint, knowing smile. Behind him, Lei Tianqi and the others shuffled off, their faces flushed with the humiliation of being ignored by the very gods they sought to join. They were nothing more than luggage in Liu's eyes. Lei Wanjun bowed low, his voice dripping with sycophancy.

"We thank the Immortal for escorting our children home. Please, enter our humble abode so we may offer you our finest hospitality." Liu gave a distant, haughty smirk.

"Very well. Since Patriarch Lei is so insistent, I shall grace your halls for a brief moment." He didn't look at Wanjun once. His eyes remained fixed on Reyn, the only person in the entire city he deemed worthy of his notice.