The Scion of Ruin

The Outer Court Pavilion thrummed with a quiet, controlled energy—utterly different from the rough cacophony of the handyman barracks. Here, disciples moved like flowing water, their steps purposeful, their robes crisp and distinguished. The azure-white hues of the Azure Cloud Sect shimmered in sunlight, dyed into fabric that seemed to reflect the very heavens.

Li Shen stood at the Pavilion's stone reception, now clad in his own set of clean white robes—simpler than those of inner disciples, but far finer than the grey handyman uniform he had worn for years. The fabric was smooth, reinforced with light spiritual threads that would resist wear and minor spiritual backlash. His fingers curled around the jade token that had just been handed to him—small, smooth, and cool, engraved with his name and his current rank: Outer Disciple.

For a moment, he simply stared at it, the weight of this token pressing deeper than its physical form. It was proof. Proof of survival, of growth, of the narrow path he walked—alone, and against Heaven itself.

The senior disciple at the counter, a young man with a faint sneer and heavy eyelids, waved lazily down a side path. "Cave 37. That's yours. Provisions are already placed. Token grants access to your allowance, the mission boards, and Scripture Pavilion. Don't lose it."

He paused, hesitated, then added without meeting Li Shen's gaze, "And… congratulations. Elder Jian's survival. That was unexpected. I suppose luck follows even the lowborn, sometimes."

Li Shen gave a shallow bow but said nothing. No defense, no challenge. Let them talk.

As he turned, whispers followed him.

"That's him. The handyman who saved the Grand Elder..."

"...Probably some accident. I heard the demon killed half a patrol before that."

"Still, to be named Outer Disciple like that... someone's backing him."

Or trying to control him, Li Shen thought grimly. Elder Jian's protection had bought him space, but Elder Guo's shadow loomed over every word spoken in the Outer Court.

The path to Cave 37 wound down a quiet edge of the mountain. The air was clean here, the wind laced with thin Qi currents, and far from the bustling courts. His new residence was a modest alcove carved into the cliffside. Moss clung to the outer walls, and thin vines crept along the edges. A stone plaque with "37" engraved above the arch marked it.

Inside, the cave was cool, silent, and simple: a raised stone bed against one wall, a low table with parchment and ink, a small depression in the center that formed a circular meditation platform. Above it, faint lines of a basic Qi-gathering formation pulsed with pale-blue light, drawing in ambient energy. Compared to the cluttered barracks, it was a paradise of peace. A place of privacy. A place to train… and to keep secrets.

But the moment he sat cross-legged on the meditation circle, Li Shen felt it—the same familiar resistance. A subtle pressure, barely perceptible to most, but suffocating to him. The Qi in the air felt like mist behind glass. He could sense it. He could see the channels in the formation. But when he reached out, it resisted him. Sluggish. Distant.

Heaven Suppression.

The unique burden of his body, the Heaven Asura Destruction Body, made every attempt at conventional cultivation an uphill battle.

Still, this was his space now. And he would make use of it.

He was just unpacking the sparse provisions—some rations, a change of robes, and a single low-grade spirit stone—when a voice called from the entrance.

"New neighbor, are we?"

Li Shen rose, stepping into the fading afternoon light. A young man stood a few paces away, just outside Cave 38. He had a relaxed posture, arms crossed loosely over his chest, and wore the same Outer Disciple robes, though his were faded from use. His features were sharp but not unfriendly, and his spiritual presence felt steady—around Qi Condensation Stage 4 or 5, by Li Shen's guess.

"I'm Jian Wen," the man said, offering a casual wave. "Been in the Outer Court a little over a year. Heard the news about you. Quite the tale."

"Li Shen," he replied cautiously, dipping his head in polite greeting.

Jian Wen smiled. "Well, Li Shen, if you ever need help with Outer Court nonsense—form applications, mission advice, good places to practice—ask away. The elders won't give you much, but us Outer folk watch each other's backs."

Li Shen nodded. "Thank you."

Just as Jian Wen turned to leave, another voice called from the opposite side, tinged with disdain. "Wen, don't waste your time. That one won't last the season."

Cave 36's inhabitant leaned against his doorway—a thin disciple with narrow eyes and a perpetual sneer. He didn't even glance at Li Shen directly, but his voice was loud enough to echo.

"Let him play at being a disciple. The Grand Elder won't be around to protect him forever."

Jian Wen frowned but said nothing. Li Shen didn't respond either. He simply turned, stepped back into his cave, and let the silence reclaim him.

---

The Scripture Pavilion was smaller than he'd imagined.

A three-tiered structure nestled among cypress trees, guarded by two outer disciples at the gate. Upon showing his token, Li Shen was admitted without incident. Inside, the scent of old parchment and faint incense wafted through the still air.

Scrolls and bound tomes lined the shelves, each categorized by cultivation realm, elemental affinity, and discipline type—Qi arts, body arts, weapon techniques, spirit techniques, formations, and more.

He bypassed the flashy martial techniques and weapon scrolls, heading straight for the Foundation Cultivation section. After a few minutes of browsing, his eyes landed on a thick, leather-bound manual titled:

The Grand Dao Foundation: From Qi Condensation to Nascent Soul (10 Stages per Realm)

He checked the ledger, copied his name, and withdrew the manual using his token. As he left the Pavilion, the weight of the tome felt heavier than just paper. It felt like a key—a gateway into a mountain he had yet to climb.

---

Back in his cave, he lit the spiritual lamp and opened the manual.

The first chapters detailed Qi Condensation, Stage 1 through 10:

> "The journey of a cultivator begins with sensing Qi. Through breath, through posture, and through will, one draws in spiritual energy from the world and circulates it within. The process is cyclical: inhale Qi, pass it through purified meridians, condense it in the Dantian, and slowly expand that reservoir. Stage by stage, Qi becomes more stable, denser, and finally solidifies at the peak of the realm."

Stage 1: Sensing and drawing Qi.

Stage 2-4: Purifying and expanding the meridians.

Stage 5-7: Refining internal cycles.

Stage 8-9: Crystallizing spiritual Qi.

Stage 10: Solidification of Qi—a threshold to true cultivation.

Next came Foundation Establishment:

> "Once one's Dantian is filled with condensed Qi, the task becomes constructing a spiritual foundation. This foundation stabilizes the cultivator's energy and prepares the soul and body for higher ascension. Expansion of the meridians, refinement of the flesh, and enlightenment of the spirit all fall within this realm."

It continued:

Core Formation: The birth of a Golden Core, a dense sphere of spiritual energy and self-understanding.

Nascent Soul: Formation of a miniature soul-body, capable of spiritual projection and advanced comprehension.

Li Shen's eyes moved across the pages, heart thudding. He was at the beginning. Lower than low. And this was the vast road ahead.

He closed the book, took a breath, and sat again on the meditation platform.

His hands formed the basic Qi gathering seal. He inhaled through his nose, visualizing the flow described in the manual. He summoned the trickle of energy that lingered in his meridians.

Then came the pressure.

Heaven Suppression reared like a phantom storm—silent, invisible, but immense. The ambient Qi around him responded sluggishly. His circulation slowed. The faint flicker of spiritual energy he'd once kindled in his Dantian remained, but it could not grow. Not through normal means.

He opened his eyes, sweat dotting his brow.

The suppression was still there. Just like before. Just like always.

The manual lay open beside him, filled with elegant theory and well-mapped paths. But not for him. Not like this.

He slid aside the stone slab under his bed, revealing a wrapped bundle. Unrolling it slowly, he uncovered the thick oaken staff—the weapon that had served him in the forest, slick with demon blood, carrying his blade will.

His true cultivation lay elsewhere. Not in traditional meditative cycles, but in the furnace of life and death.

Only through demon cleansing had he made it to Stage 1. Only through real battle would he break through Stage 2.

He rewrapped the staff, placed it back beneath the stone, and stood.

His gaze turned to the token on the table, the jade piece that shimmered with faint internal light.

It granted access to the Mission Hall.

He would go. Soon. Tomorrow.

The mission boards awaited. And somewhere, demons stirred.