Chapter 2: The Medallion's Whisper
The riverbank was cold, and Xu Wei's body shivered as dawn approached. Despite the exhaustion pulling at him, his mind raced. His fingers traced the intricate runes on the medallion, a faint warmth emanating from the ancient artifact.
For hours, he studied it, turning it over in his hands, pressing its edges, even scratching the surface lightly with a rock. Yet the only response was silence, save for the faint whisper he had heard the night before.
"Eternal life... whatever it takes."
Xu Wei had always dismissed tales of mystical treasures. His life had never been touched by luck, so why should it start now? Still, his instincts told him to keep the medallion. If nothing else, it could be traded to some wandering merchant for food.
The sun broke over the horizon, and Xu Wei stood, his legs trembling from fatigue. He needed to plan. The raiders had taken what little the village had, leaving nothing for him to return to. But he also knew the forest well enough to find sustenance for a few days.
And yet, his gaze drifted back toward the village.
"No attachments," he muttered. "But if there's anything left to salvage, it's better in my hands than anyone else's."
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By midday, Xu Wei was creeping along the outskirts of Zhenxi Village. Smoke still lingered in the air, and the stench of blood was thick. The raiders were gone, but the devastation they left behind was absolute.
Corpses littered the streets. Houses were reduced to smoldering ruins. The old well had been poisoned—a cruel touch to ensure no survivors would linger.
Xu Wei's expression was calm as he walked among the dead. He felt no pity for the villagers. They had called him a cursed child, mocked his every failure, and turned their backs on him when he needed help. Their fate was none of his concern.
Still, his sharp eyes scanned the wreckage for anything of value. He found a half-empty grain sack in a collapsed storeroom and a rusted dagger clutched in the hand of a fallen villager. It wasn't much, but it would keep him alive for a while.
As he searched, the medallion grew warmer in his pocket. He pulled it out, frowning. The runes glowed faintly, and a sensation of being watched prickled at the back of his neck.
Then the whisper came again, clearer this time:
"A drop of blood... a glimpse of power."
Xu Wei's lips thinned. This was no mere trinket. Reluctantly, he pricked his finger with the rusted dagger and let a single drop of blood fall onto the medallion.
The reaction was immediate. A blinding light erupted from the artifact, and Xu Wei staggered backward as images flooded his mind: shadowy figures chanting in a long-forgotten language, a towering gate made of black stone, and a feeling of infinite power just out of reach.
When the light faded, Xu Wei collapsed to his knees, gasping. The medallion now hummed faintly in his hand, and he could feel something—an energy, faint but present—coursing through his veins.
"It's real," he murmured. "The legends... immortality..."
For the first time in years, Xu Wei allowed himself a faint smile. "The heavens may not favor me, but that doesn't matter. I'll seize my own destiny."
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Chapter 3: Breaking Ties
The days that followed were a blur of preparation. Xu Wei moved methodically, scavenging supplies, testing his newfound power, and mapping out his next steps. The energy from the medallion was faint but undeniable. With concentration, he could draw on it to enhance his physical abilities, though it left him drained afterward.
He practiced tirelessly, driving his body to its limits. His mind, ever calculating, pieced together a plan. "Survival isn't enough. Power is the only guarantee against death. I need to grow stronger."
But strength required resources—resources he didn't have. The village, however, still held value, despite its destruction. Beneath the ruins lay the remnants of old stories, whispered by the elders. Stories of a sealed cavern in the nearby cliffs where the village ancestors had hidden treasures during a war centuries ago.
Xu Wei didn't believe in luck, but he believed in opportunities. If the cavern was real, it would be his next step.
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As night fell, Xu Wei stood at the edge of the village, staring at the ruins. He had scoured the site for days, gathering everything he could. The medallion had guided him to a faint energy signature in the cliffs—proof that the cavern existed. But there was still a problem.
Other survivors had returned. A few scattered villagers, clinging to the hope of rebuilding. They avoided Xu Wei, sensing the coldness in his eyes. But their presence complicated his plans.
Xu Wei's fingers brushed the medallion. Its warmth was reassuring, almost as if it understood his thoughts.
"The survivors will attract attention. Raiders, beasts, scavengers. They'll ruin everything. No... they'll ruin my plans."
His decision was made before the thought was complete.
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Xu Wei moved under the cover of darkness. The first strike was silent—a knife across the throat of a man who had once mocked him for his thin frame. The second was messier, but no one heard the woman's cries.
By the time the sun rose, the last remnants of Zhenxi Village were gone. Xu Wei stood at the cliffside, blood on his hands but no trace of remorse in his heart.
The medallion pulsed warmly, its glow stronger than before. He could feel its approval, almost as if it were alive.
"The weak die. The strong survive. That's the way of the world." Xu Wei's voice was steady as he turned toward the cliffs. "The village is gone. It was never anything but a burden. Now... I can focus on what matters."
With the medallion's guidance, Xu Wei entered the cavern, ready to take the next step in his ruthless journey.
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