The rough dirt road continued to wind forward, as if stretching on and on forever even if Nezha knew that the road would eventually come to an end. Nobody ever talks about the journey back after all the traveling, and seeing what felt, like the entire world. Yet, all that traveling now felt like one long dream that never truly happened. Especially now as the old shoes that he was left with were on the verge of falling apart after every single step.

  The old, tattered clothes, straw hat and ragged cloak perhaps the only possessions he had were worth of value. The aged, dull sword strapped to his waist wouldn’t even be able to slice bread, much less help him defend himself if he was forced into a fight.

  Fighting.

  That word stuck in his head for a long moment. Dark eyes cast down towards his pale hands, flexing them slowly. Could he even fight anymore? It didn’t feel like he could, not anymore. The entire long trip back to his home, he felt weak, his body no longer powerful or light like it once had been.

  It was some mercy that he had been dropped off as close as he had to his home. Well, mercy was pushing it, the reality was it had been one final humiliation and insult. Still, without it, he would have surely been killed trying to get back or maybe he would have just died on the road from exhaustion. This wasn’t a kind world; he knew that all too well.

  The road slowly began to incline upwards, his legs beginning to burn from the exertion of pushing himself ever upward and onward. The sun above seemed determined not to move an inch from beating down on him. Sweat ran down his body, his clothes, if they could be called that, would be soaked through before he finished this walk. He knew he must stink, but he was glad that he couldn’t smell himself right now. His breathing was becoming labored from the exertion, it felt like he hadn’t done any exercise a day in his life right now.

  The hill mercifully came to an end and once more leveled off, though at this point the dirt road felt like more rocks than dirt, stabbing into the soft shoes making sure he felt every stone. Looking left to right, a soft sigh escaped his lips. What he wouldn’t give to having some trees, at least providing some small coverage, but no it was all flat around, just overgrown grass and the sounds of some bugs to keep him company on this walk. Yet, he was getting closer with each step.

  It had crossed his mind multiple times on the journey back; would his home even be there when he got there? It had been some time since he had left and never looked back. It wasn’t much of one when he first left. Who’s to say that in the old building, a shack really, would still be standing? Or maybe it was a very long elaborate joke, letting him live only to let him get back home and have him be met with a group of bandits or an assassin to kill him. It would be rather cruel, and right in line with this world and everything that had happened that led to this.

  He stopped on the side of the road, taking a long deep breath before pulling out the water skin giving it a small shake. The small amount of water sloshing around inside, no reason to let it last. Tilting it back and draining what was left and putting it away.

  During the walk back, a comfortable numb feeling had settled in over his emotions. Yet now, as he stood there, drenched in sweat, wearing nothing but rags, body aching and now with no water; the numb feeling fell away into despair and anger. Tears began to burn his eyes, hand coming up desperately trying to wipe them away.

  Until finally he couldn’t hold it in anymore, as he just knelt into the dirt, hands gripping the ground. Tears spilled onto the dirt as a strangled sob and scream escaped his throat. All control of his emotions gone and overriding any other thought process and everything bottled up came spilling out. There under the open sky, he could only accept that he was truly cast down all the way to the bottom. Forced to accept the reality, a reality that after everything he was right back to where he started.

  It took some time for him to get himself together, his throat now feeling raw and ragged. Emotionally, it had been cathartic to break down in the moment, letting it all out had calmed him down. He was nowhere near good, but he was good enough to get back to his feet and keep walking again. Pushing himself up, wiping the remnants of tears from puffy eyes and taking one long deep breath before he began to start walking again.

  Perhaps now that he had finally released what had been building inside of him, he could begin to think about what he was even going to do once he got back home. Before everything, he hadn’t much to begin with. Living on the outskirts of civilization by himself, he had just farmed what food he needed. The small town close by let him do odd jobs so he could earn some necessities.

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  Could he go back to that life? Is that why he was left alive, a subtle warning to go back and live a quiet peaceful life to be forgotten until he grew old and died?

  Would that style of life even really be so bad? “Isn’t that the life I used to want?” He said into the wind, he barely even recognized the voice as it drifted onto the wind. It sounded softer than it used to have. It spawned another thought in him, one that he was sure he would have to really begin struggling with soon. Who was he anymore?

  The last part of the walk was quiet and, thankfully, easier, with no more uphill portions as he followed the relatively straight path forward. The road came to an intersection, bringing memories of when he had first left this place—when he had taken the road to the left for the first time in his life and gone out into the wide world. This time, though, he turned right, right back toward his past. Shame welled up in his chest—shame and bitterness. The joy he had felt when first going out into the world was now completely stripped from him. All of it, all of it had been a sham in the end.

  Within a few more minutes, the road narrowed to barely a path, small shrubs and trees beginning to crowd along the sides. At the end of it, a building slowly took shape. The old shack that had been his home still stood, eliciting a small exhale as some tension left him. After everything, being left without a home would have been too much to bear. As he drew closer, the details came into focus. Though it still stood, years of neglect had left it far from comfortable. Fixing it would be its own trial. For now, at least he had somewhere to sleep.

  Walking up to the front door, he saw that it was barely hanging on. The wood was rotting and would need to be replaced—a far cry from the palace he had lived in not even twenty moons ago. He reached up and gently pulled the door open, stepping inside what remained of the interior. A damp smell hit his nose first, drawing his eyes upward to the straw roof. Water had leaked through; small holes had formed in the ceiling from a lack of care and upkeep. The old wooden floor was beginning to rot from the moisture, and mold had started to spread. The place was unlivable, but it would have to do for now.

  He unbuckled his old, decrepit sword and set it against the wall. Exhaustion rolled through him. The trip was over. He removed his hat and set it on the remnants of what furniture remained. Then the ragged cloak came off, exposing the pale body beneath. With languid steps, he made his way to what was left of the straw bed and dropped onto it.

  His long brown hair splayed out as he stared up at the ceiling. He was thinner than before, his physique collapsed back to what it had once been at the very beginning. He raised a hand and flexed it, grimacing at how weak it felt, how flawed he must be in this moment.

  How had he gotten here?

  He knew the answer; it was all he could think about. The bitter taste of betrayal and his own stupidity had allowed him to be used. He had reached all his goals only to have everything taken from him. It had started right here in this house, when he lived a simple life as a farmer. Tales of martial artists, kingdoms, sects, and immortals had only ever been stories legends that would never touch his quiet life. Yet for one brief moment, he had wondered: what if he could be a legend? Be part of those stories? Ascend to the very top of this world, what would that look like?

  In that singular moment, it had appeared to him-SYSTEM.

  The System had helped him ascend, guiding him from his farmer’s life to the very peak of the martial world. He stood at the summit in record time. Then, at the very top, the reality of the System revealed itself. It ripped away all the power he had accumulated—the physique he had developed, his skills, his energy—everything it had given him. It formed itself in front of him, a new martial god standing at the pinnacle of the world, leaving him with nothing but an ordinary body.

  Fury boiled inside him as he thought of it, and helplessness settled in as reality sank deep. All his accomplishments had belonged to the System. It had consumed him. He had learned nothing. He had earned nothing.

  And now he was nothing.

  He let out a deep breath, trying to steady his rapidly beating heart as the fury slowly ebbed. The same question returned, as it had throughout the long walk back.

  What next?

  “I can’t just stay like this, can I? But if I don’t… will that thing track me down and kill me for not staying still? Do I even have the ability to challenge it? Hell, do I even have the ability to start the climb again? I have no skills, no internal power. I’d be lucky just to get into a sect to start training.”

  Rubbing his eyes, he lay there well into the night, thinking.

  “Tomorrow… I’ll go into town and learn when the next surrounding sect tryouts are taking place. Hopefully I’ll have enough time to at least get my body into better shape. I have to try. I can’t just stay here and die.”

  He spoke the words into the quiet air, trying to make them sound firmer than his heart felt. It was a dangerous world, and he would probably die long before reaching his goal. Yet dying because he tried sounded better than dying because he lay down and surrendered.

  A faint smile crossed his face for the first time. Conviction settled in, and at last exhaustion claimed him.

  One journey had ended.

  Now the next was just beginning.