The sky was painted in shades of gray as Xu Tian emerged from the ruins, the first light of dawn creeping over the jagged mountain peaks. The world outside felt colder, sharper, as though it had shifted while he was underground. Or perhaps it was he who had changed.

  He glanced down at his hands. The shadows that had coiled around them in the cavern were gone, but the faint black stains on his skin remained, like cracks in porcelain. He clenched his fists, testing his strength. His body still ached from the star’s searing energy, but beneath the pain was something new—an unfamiliar vitality, like a fire smoldering deep within his chest.

  He took a step forward, then froze.

  His shadow moved on its own.

  It stretched unnaturally in the pale morning light, slithering across the rocky ground like a living thing. Xu Tian’s breath caught in his throat as the shadow rippled, forming jagged tendrils that writhed and coiled before sinking back into place.

  “What...?” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

  The whispers answered him.

  “You are ours now.”

  The voice wasn’t loud, but it echoed through his mind, seeping into the cracks of his thoughts like cold water. It wasn’t like hearing someone speak—it was more like a feeling, a presence that pressed against his very being.

  Xu Tian staggered, clutching his head. “What do you want from me?”

  The whispers didn’t answer directly. Instead, they filled his mind with fragmented images: a sky torn asunder, stars raining down like fiery comets, a world consumed by shadow. And then came the sensation—a surge of power, intoxicating and terrible, like standing at the edge of a great abyss and feeling the urge to leap.

  He shook his head violently, forcing the whispers back. “No,” he muttered. “I’m in control. This power is mine, not yours.”

  The whispers receded, though he could still feel them lingering at the edges of his consciousness, waiting. Watching.

  Xu Tian focused on his breathing, grounding himself. He couldn’t afford to lose control now—not when he had finally been given a second chance. If this power was truly his, he needed to understand it.

  He turned his attention back to his shadow, willing it to move. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, the shadow began to stretch and twist, responding to his thoughts. It wasn’t like controlling a limb—it felt more like pulling on invisible strings, coaxing the shadow to obey.

  He extended a hand, and the shadow surged forward, forming a long, jagged tendril that slashed across the rocky ground. The motion was clumsy, unrefined, but the sheer force of it sent loose stones flying.

  Xu Tian’s lips curled into a grim smile. “Not bad.”

  He tried again, this time focusing on precision. The tendril of shadow lashed out, wrapping around a boulder and pulling it toward him. The boulder shifted slightly before the shadow dissipated, leaving him gasping for breath.

  The strain hit him all at once, like a weight pressing down on his chest. He sank to his knees, his vision swimming. The whispers surged again, feeding on his exhaustion.

  “More,” they urged. “Take more. Give yourself to us.”

  Xu Tian gritted his teeth, forcing the voices back. He couldn’t let them take over. Not now. Not ever.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  By the time Xu Tian caught his breath, the sun had fully risen, casting the mountains in harsh light. He surveyed his surroundings, his sharp eyes scanning for movement. The ruins were hidden deep within the wilderness, far from any major sect territory, but he couldn’t afford to be careless.

  The celestial cultivation world was as vast as it was unforgiving, ruled by powerful sects that jealously guarded their heavenly paths. For those born with a strong Heavenly Root, the climb up the Celestial Ladder was a path to glory. But for those like Xu Tian—crippled, powerless, discarded—there was no mercy.

  His thoughts darkened as memories of the past resurfaced. He could still see their faces—his fellow disciples from the Scarlet Peak Sect. The laughter, the mockery, the satisfaction on their faces as they watched him fall.

  His fists clenched, and the shadows at his feet stirred. He would make them pay.

  But first, he needed to survive.

  As Xu Tian made his way down the mountain path, the faint sound of voices reached his ears. He froze, his body tensing. The voices were distant, but growing louder—male, rough, and tinged with urgency.

  “They said the boy came this way,” one of the voices said. “If he’s alive, we can’t let him leave.”

  Xu Tian’s pulse quickened. The mercenaries.

  He scanned his surroundings, his mind racing. The path ahead was narrow, bordered by steep cliffs on one side and dense forest on the other. There was no time to run—he had to hide.

  Without thinking, he stepped into the shadow of a large boulder and willed himself to disappear. The shadows responded instantly, wrapping around him like a second skin. His body seemed to dissolve into the darkness, blending seamlessly with the rock.

  Moments later, the mercenaries came into view. There were three of them, their armor battered but their weapons sharp. They moved cautiously, their eyes scanning the path ahead.

  “Are you sure he’s here?” one of them asked, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek.

  The leader, a wiry man with piercing eyes, nodded. “The ruins don’t spit people out alive. If he made it out, it means he’s carrying something powerful.”

  Xu Tian’s breath caught. They weren’t just hunting him—they knew about the star.

  The leader gestured toward the forest. “Spread out. He can’t have gone far.”

  The mercenaries began to fan out, their movements methodical. Xu Tian remained frozen, his body still cloaked in shadow. He could feel the strain of maintaining the concealment, but he forced himself to stay calm.

  The burly mercenary passed within inches of him, his boots crunching against the gravel. For a terrifying moment, Xu Tian thought the man would notice the faint distortion in the shadows. But then he moved on, his attention elsewhere.

  As the mercenaries disappeared into the forest, Xu Tian released the shadows, his body materializing once more. His legs trembled, both from exhaustion and the adrenaline coursing through him.

  “That was too close,” he muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow.

  As Xu Tian continued down the mountain, the whispers returned, more insistent this time.

  “You are hunted. They will not stop. You must become stronger.”

  Xu Tian scowled. “Stronger? At what cost? My soul? My sanity?”

  The whispers didn’t respond directly, but a sensation filled him—a hunger, raw and unrelenting. It wasn’t his own hunger, but the star’s.

  “Consume them,” the voice urged. “Take their strength. Feed the shadows.”

  Xu Tian shook his head. “I won’t be your puppet.”

  But deep down, he knew the star was right. The mercenaries wouldn’t stop until they had his head—or the power he carried. If he wanted to survive, he couldn’t afford to hold back.

  As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Xu Tian found himself near the base of the mountain, where the forest grew thick and tangled. The mercenaries’ voices echoed faintly in the distance, drawing closer once more.

  This time, Xu Tian didn’t hide.

  He crouched low in the underbrush, his eyes locked on the path ahead. The shadows around him began to stir, curling around his hands like restless serpents.

  When the first mercenary came into view—a wiry man with a dagger drawn—Xu Tian struck.

  The shadows lashed out, wrapping around the man’s throat before he could react. His eyes bulged as the tendrils tightened, cutting off his scream. Xu Tian’s heart pounded as the man collapsed to the ground, his body convulsing before falling still.

  Xu Tian stared at the corpse, his breath ragged. The shadows receded, leaving no trace of their presence.

  The whispers surged again, their tone triumphant. “Good. More.”

  Xu Tian clenched his fists, ignoring the sick feeling in his stomach. There was no turning back now.

  As Xu Tian stepped over the body, the shadows at his feet seemed to grow darker, stretching farther than they should have in the midday sun. The whispers grew louder, filling his mind with promises of power and vengeance.

  He didn’t know how far this path would take him, or what it would cost. But one thing was certain:

  He would not stop. Not until the heavens themselves trembled beneath his feet.