The Lin Clan's Awakening Grounds were carved into the mountainside like a wound that refused to close.
A circular platform of white jade, polished so sharply it reflected the clouds above, sat at the heart of the compound. Ancient statues of past patriarchs loomed in every direction—some proud, some solemn, and some cracked with age. Around the platform, over a hundred clan members gathered in ceremonial robes, their gazes fixed on the center where the candidates stood.
Today was the moment every young cultivator longed for. The day their spiritual roots would be tested. The day the clan would decide who was worthy—and who would be forgotten.
Among the hopefuls stood proud heirs of inner families. Sons of elders. Daughters of concubines with ambitions in their eyes.
And at the far edge of the crowd…A boy stood alone in a threadbare robe, soaked from rain and stained with old blood.
Lin Xun.
Or so they believed.
Whispers rippled the moment he stepped onto the outer ring.
"Isn't that the cripple?""Didn't he almost die last week?""Trash like him doesn't belong here.""He's just here to beg for attention."
No one stopped him, but the space around him grew colder. Tighter.
The Lin Clan was strict with hierarchy, and Lin Xun's reputation was already buried. A failed Awakening. A frail body. No cultivation. No future. Only the kindness of an elder had kept him alive—and even that thread was thinning.
But Lin Feng walked with a quiet calm, his gaze scanning the platform like a sovereign returning to his city.
He felt no fear. No anger. Only... clarity.
"This is where it begins again," he whispered.
A voice rang out across the jade platform, sharp and commanding.
"Silence."
From the central dais stepped an elder draped in crimson. His beard was long, his gaze unyielding.
Elder Lin Qian.Overseer of the Awakening Ceremony. Cousin to the Patriarch. Known for his ruthless standards and perfect memory.
"Let today's ceremony begin," he intoned. "Bring forth the children of our blood. Let the heavens judge their roots."
One by one, the youths stepped onto the Spirit Stone—a towering obelisk inscribed with runes that pulsed with hidden power. When touched, the stone glowed with a light matching the child's talent.
The first heir approached. A boy of thirteen.
The stone flared golden.
"Mid-Tier Gold Root!""Impressive!"
Cheers erupted. His mother wept with pride.
Another stepped forward. The stone turned blue.
"Water Root. Average quality."
Another. A flicker of green.
"Earth affinity. Low-tier."
Then came Lin Mei—daughter of a concubine with the heart of a lioness. The stone lit up in a blinding crimson flame.
"High-Grade Fire Root!""She'll be accepted into the Crimson Furnace Pavilion for sure!"
The crowd roared. Even the elders nodded.
Then—
The murmurs shifted.
The air stiffened.
Lin Xun stepped forward.
Elder Lin Qian raised a brow.
"You were not invited to this ceremony."His voice echoed like thunder through dry leaves.
"You were declared spiritually crippled. What do you seek here?"
The crowd laughed quietly. Some openly. Some cruelly.
"A ghost," someone muttered. "Here to haunt the living."
Lin Feng stared directly at the elder.
"A mistake was made years ago," he said calmly. "I've returned to correct it."
The silence that followed was not admiration. It was scorn.
But Elder Lin Qian, ever formal, nodded once.
"Very well. Let the heavens reject you again."
Lin Feng stepped onto the stone.
The moment his palm touched its surface, a faint hum rippled through the air.
For several heartbeats, nothing happened.
Snickers echoed from the crowd.
"Nothing.""Again.""Trash is trash."
And then—
A flicker.
The runes on the obelisk pulsed once. Then twice.
Suddenly, the stone shuddered.
Black mist leaked from the carvings, curling into the air like smoke. The crowd gasped. The sky above darkened, and the platform trembled.
The light was not blue, nor gold, nor crimson.
It was black.
A deep, pulsing void-black glow erupted from the stone, seeping across its base like ink spilling from a cracked jar.
"What... what is that?""That's not any elemental root I've seen!""Is that even… possible?"
The elder stepped back, eyes narrowed.
"Impossible. The Spirit Stone cannot lie."
And just as suddenly as it began, the glow vanished.
The mist retreated. The stone returned to silence.
Lin Feng removed his hand.
The crowd stood frozen. Whispering. Uncertain.
Elder Lin Qian spoke again, his voice strained.
"The stone... was interfered with. Some illusion. Trickery.""This ceremony recognizes no such root."
He turned away.
"Lin Xun is hereby declared unfit to train. No clan resources shall be wasted. He shall remain outer-branch property. No higher sect will acknowledge him."
Lin Feng said nothing.
He simply turned and walked away.
But behind his silence, a storm had begun to brew.
He had felt it—the moment his palm touched the stone.
The shadow root had responded.
Something no cultivator had awakened in a thousand years.
It wasn't power the stone rejected.
It was fear.
"Let them fear me," he thought."They once feared the Shadow Sovereign. They will again."
As he walked down the jade steps, the sky cracked with thunder once more.
And in the distance, somewhere hidden in the ancient mountains, a sealed ruin stirred.
An old voice whispered beneath the earth.
"He has returned…""He who was devoured by silence… walks again."