Chapter One: The Worthless Boy
Snow fell like endless shards of glass, stabbing the earth and burying the world in white. Trees groaned under the weight of ice, their branches snapping like brittle bones. Mountains loomed in the distance, jagged and merciless, as the blizzard roared through the valleys.
In this frozen wasteland, a boy moved alone.
His bare chest gleamed with sweat despite the cold, his breath visible as it escaped his lips in ragged bursts. Chains—thick as iron cables—wrapped around his arms, their ends biting deep into the frozen bark of a monstrous tree trunk. It was a colossus of wood—its roots tangled like veins, its length stretching nearly nine feet, and its weight enough to crush a horse.
Yet Jin, no more than thirteen years old, dragged it forward.
His boots dug into the snow, knees trembling, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop.
Whispers drifted through the storm.
"Look… a wood carrier!"
Villagers near a caravan turned, their eyes widening at the sight.
"By the gods… is that him?"
"The useless boy?"
Voices buzzed like flies.
"He's insane! That trunk could kill a grown man!"
"Hah! Useless? He's worse than useless—a freak with strength but no power core!"
Jin didn't look up. He kept pulling, muscles screaming with every step. He knew their words. He'd heard them his whole life.
"Born with strength but no mana."
"A failed vessel."
The names didn't matter. Not anymore.
Suddenly—
HOWL!!!
A chorus of howls cut through the storm, and the villagers scattered. Jin stopped, his breathing sharp as he turned.
Out of the mist emerged wolves—massive, four feet tall, with fur like silver flames and eyes that burned blue. They moved in unison, their breath steaming as armored riders urged them forward.
"Snow Wolf Escort!"
The name sent a ripple of awe through the villagers.
The Draven Blade Army. The Empire's deadliest hunters. Their riders wore blue-black armor engraved with wolf fangs, and their leader—a grizzled man wielding a sword that shimmered with blue light—cut through the snow like a blade.
The warrior pulled his wolf to a halt, his cold eyes locking onto Jin.
"Out of the way, boy," he barked. "Or my wolves will clear the road for you."
Laughter erupted from the soldiers.
Jin didn't flinch. Despite the dozen predators surrounding him, despite the weapons glinting in the frost, he stood straight.
He bowed slightly. "No worries, sir. I'll move."
The leader's gaze lingered. Was it curiosity? Disgust? Jin couldn't tell.
Then the warriors rode past, vanishing into the snow.
Jin exhaled and dragged the chains again. He had no time for fear.
---
Hours passed.
The cold sank deeper into his bones. His legs felt like lead, his shoulders raw from the chains. But he kept moving—mile after mile—until he finally reached the top of a ridge and collapsed.
His breath came in sharp gasps as he slumped against the trunk. His fingers trembled as he tore off a piece of dried meat, chewing slowly.
"Seven miles left," he muttered. "I can make it before sunset."
The sky was already bleeding red at the edges, the storm thinning just enough to let the dying light seep through.
"If I sell half of this wood… five mana pellets…"
His chest tightened at the thought.
"If the legends are true, they can awaken dormant cores… maybe even mend broken ones."
Jin clenched his fists. "If I had power… real power… everything would change."
But before he could rise, a gust of wind swept the snow aside, and a shadow appeared.
WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH!
An old man—his body glowing with a brown light—strode toward him. The snow seemed to part beneath his feet, and his eyes burned with the wisdom of warriors.
Jin's jaw tightened.
"Elemental energy."
The old man slowed as his gaze fell on Jin.
"Boy, are you mad?" His voice was sharp, cutting through the frost. "Dragging that through the mountains with no mana core? Do you want to die?"
Jin straightened, despite the ache in his spine.
"I'll be fine, sir."
The elder frowned. "You can't even cultivate. You're gambling your life against monsters—Stage 4 and 5 beasts roam these mountains. You wouldn't last a second."
Jin didn't look away.
"I can fight if I have to."
The old man stared—and then shook his head.
"Fools who don't fear death always find it."
Then he left, disappearing into the storm like a phantom.
Jin sat in silence, his breath heavy.
"Weak…"
He gritted his teeth, memories of laughter and beatings flooding back.
"Weak… weak…"
The word tore through his mind until he finally snapped.
"NO!"
His roar echoed through the mountains. Birds scattered, snow trembled, and for the first time—Jin felt his pulse ignite.
His muscles flexed, his veins bulged, and the chains in his hands trembled as though they might snap.
"I will not die in this place!"
He grabbed the chains again, shoulders screaming as he dragged the trunk forward.
The sky darkened. Snow thickened. But Jin didn't stop.
The boy the world called worthless vanished into the blizzard—his shadow swallowed by the storm.