Chapter 4 — Gathering Storms
The days stretched into weeks.
Training grew no easier; if anything, the instructors seemed to delight in pushing the students to their limits — and then demanding more.
Sparring became a daily ritual.
Students were pitted against each other, forced to clash again and again under the merciless sun.
Ashen fought with the grim patience of a man climbing a cliff with bloodied hands.
No fancy moves.
No flourishes.
Only pure survival.
Block. Dodge. Strike. Repeat.
He won some matches. Lost others.
But every loss taught him more than victory ever could.
---
"Begin!"
Instructor Kairon's voice barked over the dusty arena.
Ashen squared off against a taller opponent — Dain, a boy with broad shoulders and the heavy aura of someone from a minor cultivation family.
The match was brutal.
Dain moved like a hammer, each blow meant to crush.
Ashen relied on footwork, barely slipping past deadly strikes, landing careful jabs to the ribs, the knee.
But speed could only delay the inevitable.
With a roar, Dain slammed a shoulder into Ashen's chest, sending him sprawling onto the sand.
The watching students chuckled cruelly.
Ashen groaned, coughing dust from his lungs, but forced himself upright.
Dain sneered. "Give up, weakling. You're wasting everyone's time."
Ashen wiped blood from his mouth.
His heart thudded painfully against his ribs.
He could surrender.
Everyone would understand.
No shame in backing down from someone clearly stronger.
But then — he remembered.
The helplessness he felt during transmigration.
The disappointment after awakening the useless Soul Merge ability.
The cold truth of this world:
Only strength mattered.
Ashen's fists clenched.
Without a word, he raised his arms again, signaling he was ready.
Dain's sneer deepened — and he charged forward.
---
Ashen lost, of course.
The match ended with him slammed hard into the dirt, ribs bruised, head ringing.
Instructor Kairon shook his head but said nothing, merely moving on to the next bout.
Ashen lay there for a long moment, tasting iron, feeling the aches in his battered body.
Yet somewhere deep inside him — a fragile ember flickered to life.
Not hatred.
Not rage.
Determination.
"One day…" Ashen thought as he staggered to his feet.
"One day, I'll leave them all behind."
---
That night, as stars pricked the dark sky, Ashen sat alone at the edge of the training grounds.
He carefully practiced the basic qi circulation method taught to outer students — a crude, inefficient technique — drawing in wisps of spiritual energy and threading them painfully through his battered body.
It hurt.
His meridians, still weak, burned with every cycle.
But he persevered.
Because pain was temporary.
Weakness was not.
---
A sudden commotion broke his concentration.
Ashen opened his eyes to see a group of students gathered around a notice board at the center of the courtyard.
Curious, he approached quietly, keeping to the edges.
The notice was simple:
> Outer School Exploration: Ruin 017 Assigned to Class D.
Purpose: Training, Resource Gathering.
Risk Level: Low.
Reward: Contribution Points.
Ashen's heart skipped a beat.
A ruin exploration?
It was rare for Class D to receive such missions — usually, those chances were reserved for higher-ranked classes.
But even a low-grade ruin held possibilities: leftover artifacts, scraps of cultivation manuals, rare herbs.
For students like Ashen, trapped at the bottom, it was a rare sliver of opportunity.
Whispers spread among the students.
"Low risk, huh? Probably nothing but broken stones and weeds."
"Still... contribution points can get us better meals. Maybe even a basic cultivation pill."
"I'm going. Better than swinging a rod all day."
Ashen said nothing, but inwardly, he made his decision immediately.
He had to go.
---
Over the next few days, preparations were made.
Simple gear was distributed: basic robes reinforced with minor enchantments, dull iron swords, and pouches of dry rations.
Ashen received his set without complaint.
He spent every free moment practicing, strengthening his qi flow, meditating late into the night until exhaustion pulled him into restless sleep.
He knew he wasn't ready.
Not truly.
But opportunities didn't wait for readiness.
They had to be seized — with blood and teeth if necessary.
---
The morning of the expedition dawned crisp and cold.
Ashen and twenty other students assembled outside the southern gate of the Outer School.
Instructor Kairon stood at the front, arms crossed.
"Listen well, worms," he said, voice cutting through the mist.
"This ruin is officially classified as abandoned. That doesn't mean it's safe."
He swept his gaze across them.
"Stay in groups. Do not wander. If you find anything valuable, you report it. If you find something dangerous, you run."
He paused, lips curling into a harsh smile.
"Unless, of course, you want to die."
No one laughed.
---
The journey to the ruin took half a day.
The landscape changed as they marched — from orderly fields and stone roads to wild, tangled forests and broken hills.
Finally, they arrived at the mouth of a crumbling stone structure half-swallowed by the earth, covered in moss and thorned vines.
A cold, heavy air hung over the ruin, like the world itself held its breath.
Ashen felt a shiver creep up his spine.
Something about the place felt… wrong.
Old. Forgotten. Dangerous.
But he pushed the feeling down.
Opportunity never came without risk.
---
The group entered in cautious formation.
Torches flickered along ancient walls, casting long, dancing shadows.
The ruin was eerily silent — save for the soft scuff of boots on stone and the occasional nervous cough.
Cracked murals lined the hallways: images of strange beasts, warriors wielding elemental forces, vast battles among the stars.
Ashen caught glimpses as they passed — fleeting, tantalizing hints of a forgotten era.
"Who built this place?" he wondered.
But there was no time for curiosity.
Deeper and deeper they went, led by Instructor Kairon and two other Outer School guards.
Ashen stayed near the middle of the group, eyes sharp, every sense stretched taut.
He didn't know it yet —
—but fate was already moving.
The betrayal that would shatter his ordinary life had begun.
---