Prologue
The Eastern Azure Continent was a world where the strong thrived and the weak withered. A place where power was not just a commodity—it was life itself. At birth, every child was measured, scrutinized, and assessed by the spiritual root they carried, a manifestation of the energy within them that determined their potential for cultivation. Those with strong roots could rise to the pinnacle of strength, revered by all. Those without… they were nothing.
In the heart of this brutal system, in a small, forgotten village on the outskirts of the vast continent, a child named Li Jue was born. His birth was unremarkable—no celestial signs, no auspicious omens. The people of the village whispered about him even as an infant, speaking of how he came into the world with a curse. A curse that rendered him rootless.
The villagers knew the stories—the tales of those born without spiritual roots who could never hope to rise to power, who would be doomed to live in the shadows of those gifted with immense potential. No matter how hard they worked, no matter how much they trained, such people could never hope to break the shackles of their weakness. And yet, in the quiet of this little village, a boy was born without roots, and the world had no place for him.
Li Jue did not cry as other infants did when they were denied their birthright. He did not wail for attention or scream for mercy. From the very beginning, there was something about him that was different. Something that set him apart from all the others, even though he was just a child.
Years passed, and the village grew accustomed to the strange boy who would sit alone beneath the ancient willow tree, watching as the children of the village sparred and practiced their cultivation techniques. His gaze was always quiet, observant. Sometimes he would make an attempt to mimic their movements, but his efforts were futile. The energy that seemed to flow so easily for others was like an impenetrable wall for him. No matter how hard he tried, he could never tap into it. No matter how long he meditated, he could never call forth the energy that was supposed to surge through him.
---
In a quiet village on the outskirts of the Eastern Azure Continent, a boy sat under a dying willow tree, staring at the children sparring in the distance. Their laughter echoed as their spiritual energy flared, a sharp reminder of everything he lacked.
"Li Jue!" An older boy, Qian Rong, sneered as he approached. "Still sulking under that tree? Maybe if you prayed hard enough, the heavens would pity you and give you a spiritual root."
Li Jue didn't even flinch. "And maybe if you trained harder, you wouldn't need to pick on the weak to feel strong."
Rong's face darkened. "You little—"
"Enough!" an elderly voice cut through the tension. It was Elder Zhang, the village teacher. "Qian Rong, you're dismissed. Go practice your techniques instead of wasting time here."
Qian Rong glared at Li Jue but stomped away.
Elder Zhang sighed, walking up to the boy. "Li Jue, why must you provoke them? You know your situation."
"And what should I do instead?" Li Jue's tone was calm but firm. "Beg for their approval? Pretend I'm something I'm not?"
The elder studied him for a moment. "You're clever, but cleverness won't change the fact that you're rootless. The cultivation world is harsh. Without spiritual roots, you…" He trailed off.
"I'll survive," Li Jue said, his gaze unwavering. "I don't need roots for that."
---
Later that evening, Li Jue sat in his small, dimly lit home, poring over a tattered book he had stolen—no, borrowed—from the village library.
"'The Principles of Spiritual Resonance,'" he muttered, tracing the faded characters. "If the energy flows through the meridians, why can't it be manipulated without roots?"
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.
"Li Jue," a soft voice called. It was Xiao Ning, a kind girl from the village. "Are you alright? I heard about what happened with Qian Rong."
He opened the door slightly, his expression guarded. "I'm fine."
"You shouldn't let them get to you," she said, handing him a small bundle. "Here. Some steamed buns. You've been skipping meals again."
Li Jue hesitated but took the bundle. "Thank you, Ning."
She smiled. "Just… don't give up, alright? Even if the world's against you, I believe you'll find your way."
Her words lingered long after she left.
A week later, Li Jue was deep in the forest, practicing what he had learned from the book.
"Focus," he murmured, sitting cross-legged. "If I can't draw energy in, I'll redirect it."
He placed a small, cracked jade in front of him—a crude artifact he had pieced together. He pressed his palm against it and closed his eyes.
The energy in the air began to shift, faintly drawn toward the jade.
"It's working," he whispered, but the flow faltered, and the artifact shattered.
A deep chuckle broke the silence.
"Who's there?" Li Jue jumped to his feet, scanning the shadows.
An old man stepped into the clearing, his robes tattered but his presence commanding.
"Quite the trick you're attempting there," the man said. "But you're doing it wrong."
"Who are you?" Li Jue demanded.
"Ming Xian," the man replied.The man had a peculiar aura, one of immense power that bordered on the divine. "And you, boy, are wasting your potential."
Li Jue narrowed his eyes. "I have no potential. I'm rootless."
"Rootless?" Ming Xian scoffed. "That's just a label. The cultivation world loves its labels. Weak. Strong. Worthy. Unworthy. But you, you've already begun to see through it, haven't you?"
Li Jue didn't respond.
Ming Xian continued, "You don't need spiritual roots to manipulate energy. You just need a different approach."
"What do you mean?"
"Come with me," Ming Xian said. "And I'll show you."
---
Over the next several months, Ming Xian taught Li Jue everything he knew.
"Cultivation is a lie," Ming Xian declared one evening as they sat by a fire.
Li Jue raised an eyebrow. "A lie?"
"Think about it," Ming Xian said. "Why do the strong get stronger, and the weak remain weak? The entire system is designed to maintain control. The sects, the clans, the heavens—they all thrive on oppression."
Li Jue frowned. "So, what's the alternative?"
"You create your own path," Ming Xian said. "Forge your own rules. Take what you need from the world, instead of begging for scraps."
"And how do I do that?"
"Through the Forbidden Art," Ming Xian said, his tone grave. "It allows you to harness the energy of others, bypassing your lack of spiritual roots. But it comes at a cost."
Li Jue leaned forward. "What cost?"
"Your humanity," Ming Xian said. "The more power you take, the less of yourself remains."
Li Jue was silent for a moment. Then he said, "Show me."
---
Under Ming Xian's guidance, Li Jue began practicing the Forbidden Art.
One night, after a grueling session, he confronted Ming Xian.
"Why are you helping me?" he asked.
Ming Xian smirked. "Because I see myself in you. The world cast you aside, just like it did to me. But you have something I didn't—ambition. You could become something extraordinary."
"And what about you?"
Ming Xian's expression darkened. "My time is over. But yours is just beginning."
Character Information:
Ming Xian was a former member of the Fallen Sun Sect, a once-glorious cultivation sect that had long since crumbled to ruin after a devastating internal conflict.