Xian Ye lay sprawled on the cold wooden floor, his breath shallow, his body trembling from the aftershocks of what had just transpired. The oppressive silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of his ragged breaths. Sweat dripped from his forehead, pooling on the dusty floor beneath him. His body felt as if it had been wrung dry, every ounce of strength sapped away.
Yet, deep within his core, something had changed.
It was no longer just him. There was something else inside him now—a presence that lurked in the depths of his being, silent yet aware. It was a power that felt both alien and terrifying, but at the same time, it was his.
He forced his shaking arms to push against the floor, attempting to sit up. His body resisted at first, every muscle aching, but he ignored the pain. Gritting his teeth, he managed to prop himself against the wall. His chest heaved, his heartbeat pounding against his ribs.
Then he heard it.
A whisper, so faint it could have been the wind.
"You are not alone."
His breath hitched, his eyes darting around the dimly lit room. The candlelight flickered wildly, as if disturbed by an unseen force. His instincts screamed at him that something was watching.
"Who's there?" His voice came out hoarse, weaker than he intended.
No response.
But the feeling of being watched did not fade. Instead, it grew stronger, pressing down on him like an invisible weight. It was as if unseen eyes had fixated on his very soul, studying him, measuring him.
A shiver ran down his spine. This wasn't like before—this wasn't just raw energy, nor was it like the Qi that martial artists cultivated. This was something else entirely, something that did not belong in this world.
A memory surfaced, unbidden.
Back in his past life, he had read countless ancient texts, studied forbidden arts in search of power. But even in all his years, he had never encountered a force like this. It was old—far older than the so-called gods worshipped by mortals. It felt like a remnant of something that predated the heavens themselves.
He clenched his fists. Was this the reason for his reincarnation? Had some unfathomable force chosen him for something greater? Or was this merely a cruel trick of fate, mocking him once more?
His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden knock on the door.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The sound was sharp, impatient.
Xian Ye froze. His body was still weak—far too weak to deal with any trouble. He barely had the strength to stand. If whoever was outside meant harm, he had no means to defend himself.
But he had no choice.
Taking a deep breath, he forced himself up and staggered toward the door, gripping the handle with unsteady fingers before pulling it open.
A boy stood outside, his face twisted with barely concealed contempt. He was around the same age as Xian Ye's new body—sixteen, maybe seventeen—but where Xian Ye's body was frail and malnourished, this boy radiated strength. His robes were of fine make, marking him as someone of importance within the Xian Clan.
Xian Han.
A distant cousin, and one of the many who had tormented the previous Xian Ye.
But more importantly—he was at the Qi Condensation Ninth Stage, one step away from Foundation Establishment.
In the cultivation world, the Qi Condensation Realm was the first step toward power, the stage where one gathered and refined spiritual energy within their body. A commoner would struggle to reach even the third stage in their lifetime. Xian Han, already at the ninth, was considered a prodigy within the younger generation of the Xian Clan.
Meanwhile, Xian Ye's current body?
Not even at the First Stage of Qi Condensation.
He was nothing more than a mortal.
"So you're still alive," Xian Han sneered, arms crossed over his chest. "A shame. I had hoped you'd die quietly and spare the clan the embarrassment."
Xian Ye said nothing. His mind was still reeling from the events that had just transpired, and his body was in no condition for confrontation. He needed time to recover, to understand this power that had awakened within him.
But Xian Han mistook his silence for weakness.
"Tch. The elders have already decided to cast you out, but before you leave, I figured I'd remind you of your place." He took a step forward, his presence overwhelming. "You were born a disgrace, and you'll die one. It's best you accept that."
Xian Ye's nails dug into his palms. The old him—the former Xian Ye—would have cowered, would have accepted the abuse in silence. But he was not that person.
Not anymore.
Something dark coiled within him, stirring at his anger. He felt it pulse, whispering at the edge of his mind. His vision blurred for a split second, and in that moment, he saw something behind Xian Han—something vast and formless, watching with a sinister patience.
He blinked, and it was gone.
But the feeling remained.
Xian Han smirked at his lack of response, mistaking his silence for submission. "Hmph. At least you know when to keep your mouth shut. Remember, trash like you has no place in the Xian Clan. Now get out of my sight."
He turned to leave, but before he could take a step, Xian Ye spoke.
"One day, you'll kneel before me."
Xian Han froze.
Slowly, he turned back, disbelief flashing in his eyes before being replaced by anger. "What did you just say?"
Xian Ye met his gaze, his own eyes dark and unfathomable. "You heard me. One day, you will kneel. And when that day comes… you will beg."
For the first time, Xian Han hesitated. He had bullied Xian Ye for years, had beaten him without resistance, yet something about the way he spoke now sent an unexplainable chill down his spine. It was as if he was looking at an entirely different person.
His lips curled into a sneer, masking the momentary unease. "You've finally lost it," he spat. "Enjoy your delusions while you can."
With that, he stormed off, slamming the door behind him.
Xian Ye exhaled slowly. His body was still weak, but his mind was clearer than ever.
He had been reborn into weakness, but he would not remain weak. He would rise, no matter what it took.
And when the time came, those who had looked down on him would know fear.
For the first time since his rebirth, a smirk curled his lips.
The descent had begun.