"No anchor grade."
The elder's voice was cold, indifferent, like he was announcing the weather. He had done this a thousand times before, and I could tell he had cared just as little then as he did now. My hands clenched at my sides. Anger? Despair? I couldn't tell the difference. Either way, this was it—the verdict that slammed shut every door I had ever dreamed of opening.
The results were final. I had even less body cultivation talent than I did for qi. Only twenty individuals had any real body cultivation talent, with them all being at Mono body anchor grade. In the realm of body cultivation, this marked them as individuals of minimal talent.
For me, it meant the end. With my deformed spirit conduit, my body was already doing all it could just to keep me breathing. It'd be easier to see a carp leap over the dragon's gate than for me to cultivate in any meaningful way.
But let's set Khan aside for now and focus on Hoffnung after all, Khan may depend on him later on.
Among the Sky Grade candidates, Hoffnung stood out—not just as the only commoner but as a constant irritant to nobles- His betters. How could a peasant have better talent than they did?
Furthermore, it was worse- it was in his eyes. That look that told them he saw them as nothing special—just as they had once seen him. It stung their pride, a slap in the face, made even more unbearable by the person delivering it.
Among them, one noble in particular simmered with resentment. His name was Hung Lee.
Hung Lee hated Hoffnung all the more. His hatred for Hoffnung ran deep. Every glance he shot in the peasant's direction was laced with contempt. Born into one of the most prominent families in the inner city—far from the human filth of the lower districts—Hung Lee could barely stand to share the same air with a peasant like Hoffnung, let alone the same rank.
To make matters worse, Hung Lee's cousin was already an esteemed cultivator in the sect. If Hoffnung ended up under his cousin's wing, things could go very wrong for him. It wouldn't just cost him his status—not becoming head of the family would be the least of his problems.
He'd be grateful if his head was still attached every time he woke up from sleep. If that peasant with talent met his cousin, everything he had built could crumble. He glanced at Hoffnung again with barely concealed anger, gritting his teeth.
'Should I rope him in? No, roping him in is out of the question!'
A dweller of the Humilis district was not fit to share his plate.
He was already gathering a faction, building influence. He had waited, letting the trials pass, ensuring he aligned himself only with those who mattered. It disgusted him to think he might have wasted time on lesser nobles with mediocre talent. But this—this insult of a peasant standing at his level—was something he could not ignore.
'At least I waited till the tests were over.' He couldn't imagine having to waste his precious time investing in relationships with his lessers.
The elder, accompanied by the outer sect disciples, cleared his throat again to get attention from those surrounding the sect grounds.
"Should your body anchor grade in body cultivation rank as Mono or higher, and you manifest 'root' or lower as your spiritual conduit grade, proceed to the right. You are destined to embark upon the path of body cultivation."
"Conversely, if your spiritual conduit talent is rated at Root Grade (premium) or higher, and your body anchor grade attains Mono or surpasses it, you will be acknowledged as a Spirit cultivator. Please shift to the left."
"If your talent is equal in both, you may choose your path. Everyone else may leave."
Candidates hurriedly positioned themselves within the prescribed groups.
The elder, seeing that his orders had been followed, nodded approvingly. "The two disciples here," he pointed at each side, "will be escorting you towards the parts of the sect you now belong to. You shall get some time to say farewell to your families." The plain look on his face somehow got colder, "Be here before sundown."
He clapped his hands once, dismissing us.
Slowly, I made my way toward the edge of the sect grounds. Around me, laughter rang out as families embraced and candidates bragged about their results. I might as well have been a shadow.
My fists clenched as a boy nearby beamed about his 'good' rating. I didn't need to hear it; the word 'failure' already echoed loud enough in my head."
The walk back felt endless. The further I got drove the word deeper into me: failure.
When a mother nearby rushed to hug her son, I averted my gaze, the sting in my chest too sharp to bear. By the time Henley greeted me with his usual warmth, I couldn't meet his eyes. He didn't say the words, but the pity in his voice cut me deeply.
I looked out again at the elder, who was already turning back.
He swiftly disappeared through the sect gates, suddenly, the place erupted in chatter. Hoffnung, with nothing else to do, quickly located his father and Khan, before walking towards them.
Only a few steps in, Hung Lee and his new posse of three nobles stopped him. An outer sect disciple looking on, the leader stepped forward, "Congratulations," there was no smile on his face, "A commoner from the humilis district having a sky grade spirit conduit, impressive," he placed a hand on Hoffnung's shoulder, one of his lackeys stepped forward, his grin too eager, as if desperate to impress, the other hesitating before looking at the sect disciple, then closing in as well. "You'd do well to remember, " he spat out the next phrase, "peasant, talent doesn't make you untouchable. Sect members have… accidents all the time."
Hoffnung, rage already painting his face red, looked to the outer sect disciple, who acted like nothing was happening, he could see what was going on now. His fists itched to swing but he forced himself to think properly-the disciples almost cocky indifference making it clear, if the disciple was already on his side, escalating this would just make it worse. But still, that time he was a kid was the last he would allow himself to be stepped on.
So he chose to smack the noble's hands off. Getting into a fighting stance, "I'm sure I can take care of myself"
Hung Lee smiled, amused, it was much more fun when they fought back. "Why so defensive, friend? I was only giving you some advice." He nodded towards his men, "We'll be out of your hair, we just wanted to say hi."
After the exchange, they sauntered off.
Hoffnung finally let his fear crack through, 'Enemies so early…' They even had an outer sect disciple on their side!
He made sure, to maintain the stance a while, as he watched their backs fade away, then walked towards his father, Khan by his side, they had been obstructed by the throng of people moving around saying their farewells and heading home.
He sped up towards them, while Henley, brimming with excitement, rushed to his son, enveloping him in a heartfelt embrace, his heart filled with pride. Hoffnung returned his father's big hug, a huge grin on his face.
With a lighter countenance, Hoffnung announced, "I've done it, Dad. After four years of being the underdeveloped child, I've finally done it."
Observing the unspoken connection between father and son, I took a step back, I did not want to intrude on their already generous hospitality.
The smile on Hoffnung's face was tinged with a cold, resolute determination—a resolve borne of injustice—and Henley understood it all too well. What could he say? Stop? Abandon his thoughts of vengeance? He couldn't do it… he wanted it too.
As much as he might have yearned to exact revenge himself, he was content with his son bearing the mantle.
Henley, noticed how awkward it had gotten with Khan just standing there by the side, pretending to look off into the distance. "Alright, boys, let's not get too caught up in the moment," Henley proposed. "We have a soon-to-be cultivator in our midst."
"I'm not a cultivator yet, father." The objection was raised with very little actual resistance, and a slight grin.
"In my eyes, you're every bit a cultivator, son. Let's gather your sisters. We'll invite Healer Kim and Uncle Jary. I'll make sure it's a big celebration."
Henley was already listing names of friends to invite, his excitement filling the space around them. I forced a smile and nodded where I thought I should, but I couldn't shake the weight in my chest. Failure wasn't just in my mind—it was in the way Henley's voice softened when he spoke to me, in the glances he gave me when I wasn't looking. I wanted to be happy for Hoffnung, but all I could feel was the sharp, cold edge of envy.
They trudged back to Henley's home, each step heavier than the last for Khan, but light and hopeful for the father-son duo.
The echo of 'failure' still rang in my ears, a cruel reminder of what I lacked. Henley greeted me with his usual warmth, but I could see the pity in his eyes, the words he didn't say. 'It's alright, kid,' he said, clapping me on the shoulder. 'There are other ways to make your mark.'
I forced a smile, but inside, a quiet rage burned. If the sect wouldn't give me a path, I'd carve one with my own hands.
"Besides, you're young and have your entire life ahead. You're welcome to stay with me for as long as needed, but in return, you must continue with Hoffnung's chores."
Thank you, Uncle Henley," I muttered, trying to muster sincerity.
"No need to thank me, kid," he said, chuckling softly. "Let's just focus on celebrating Hoffnung's success, alright?
It was obvious he was trying to cheer Khan up. "This is a time for celebration."
With a nod, I summoned a faint smile, recognizing the harsh truths of our world. Most individuals would not spare a thought for someone like me, but I refused to cast a shadow upon the spirits of those who had demonstrated compassion.
The house filled quickly with laughter and the smell of roasted meat. Healer Kim handed out mugs of steaming tea, and Hoffnung's sisters danced circles around him, giggling at his awkward attempts to dodge their excitement.
I lingered near the fire, my back to the warmth, watching the joy from a distance. I wanted to believe Henley's words—that there were other ways to make my mark. But all I could think of was the sect's rejection, the cold indifference in the elder's voice, and the suffocating feeling of doors closing all around me.
Henley clapped Hoffnung on the back, pride shining in his eyes, but when he glanced at me, his expression softened. 'This is a day for celebration,' he said gently. 'We've all got something to be proud of.'
A few hours later, I accompanied Hoffnung and his family to the sect for his initiation. Healer Kim had already bade farewell to the girls earlier. After their departure, we returned to Henley's humble abode. As the world slumbered, I sat by the fire, stoking the flames, and lost in contemplation. Denied entry into the sect, I faced limited options, and whatever choice I made still had to lead me to if not a cultivator, then something very close. I did not want to give up so easily.
With a piece of wood, I etched my thoughts into the sand illuminated by the faint glow of the half-moon behind me.
The sect's doors were closed to me, but there had to be another way. From what I could see of the place so far, I had a few options open to me; maybe I'd mine spirit stones, clawing my way up for scraps of knowledge. Or I'd find work as a guard,like Hoffnung, hoping some passing cultivator would notice me. Whatever it took, I'd find a path forward. One way or another, I'd get what I wanted—even if it killed me.
I paused and sighed, "It would be better if I got some sort of cultivation manual, even if it didn't work well with my spirit conduit, maybe I could just brute force it?
This was exhausting.
I wouldn't spend the rest of my life fetching water or patching roofs or any other menial job, there were other paths-there had to be, and I would make one mine—even if it meant I didn't have any help.
I didn't know how or when, but I would find a way to carve my name into this world. I wasn't about to let rejection define me,especially not with this mark etched into my arm like a curse. I scratched at it, trying to see if I could take it off but it refused to budge, glaring in the moonlight, as if trying to mock me.
'Fine', I thought. If the skies want me to fail, I would gladly go against them.
If the sect wouldn't give me a path, I'd carve my own.
Even if it killed me.