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The palace library wasn't much to look at. It was a dark, cramped space filled with dust and cobwebs, hidden away in a forgotten wing of Duskwatch. The stone walls were lined with old wooden shelves sagging under the weight of countless scrolls and books, most of which had long since lost their usefulness. Some were too fragile to open, others were irrelevant, and many were simply ignored by the nobles and cultivators who visited the palace.
But Ash didn't mind. To him, the library was a sanctuary.
The only sound in the room was the soft rustling of paper as Ash sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor, flipping through one of the oldest scrolls. His fingers brushed over the brittle parchment, each touch gentle and reverent, as if he feared the scroll might crumble in his hands. It was a cultivation manual—its title faded beyond recognition—but something about it caught his attention.
A sudden flash of memory shot through him—those mysterious symbols from his dream, the crescent moon, the star. His hand trembled as he held the scroll up to the dim light, staring at the faint symbols and their meanings.
His gaze lingered on a single line written in the ancient script.
"Heaven-Forged Bone: A Method Beyond the Mortal Realm."
The words glowed faintly, as though they were alive, responding to something deep within Ash. It was the same sensation he had felt when the symbol appeared on his palm the night before—the pulse of energy, the flicker of something ancient and powerful awakening inside him.
With a sense of urgency, he began to unroll the scroll fully. The text described an ancient method of refining one's body using the natural energy of the world—energy that could strengthen bones, muscles, and even the soul. It wasn't a cultivation technique commonly used by mortal cultivators; it was reserved for those who were already at the peak of Body Refinement, those with incredible potential. It was said to be dangerous, but also immensely powerful.
Ash read it with increasing intensity, his heartbeat quickening. The words were like a foreign language to him, yet somehow they made perfect sense. They described a process of refining the body through rituals, using the energy of the earth, the sky, and the sea to break down the limitations of flesh and bone.
He reached the final section of the scroll, and his eyes widened. There was a warning, scrawled hastily at the bottom:
"Do not attempt this without guidance. It can tear apart even the strongest bodies."
Ash frowned, rolling the scroll back up carefully. He didn't have guidance. He didn't have a master. But he had the symbol—the crescent moon and star—burned into his memory, and something deep within told him that this was the path he needed to take.
The idea of taking this dangerous technique didn't scare him. In fact, it excited him. Ash had always known there was something more to him, something beyond the life of an orphan in Duskwatch. This was his chance to prove it. To break free from the life of weakness he had known all his life.
Suddenly, the door to the library creaked open, and Ash's heart skipped a beat.
Lin Zhou stepped inside.
Lin's broad frame filled the doorway, his eyes narrow and calculating. He was flanked by two other boys, his loyal followers, who looked as though they were there to make sure Ash didn't make a move. Lin's sneer was the same as always.
"So this is where you hide, Ash," Lin said, his voice laced with contempt. "Hiding in the shadows, reading useless scrolls, pretending to be something you're not."
Ash didn't respond. He kept his eyes on the scroll, feeling the weight of Lin's words like a hammer against his chest. He had learned long ago not to rise to Lin's provocations.
Lin took a few steps into the room, glancing at the old bookshelves with a dismissive snort. "You think you're special, don't you? Like one of those cultivators from the sects. Well, you're nothing. You'll never be anything. Not in this life."
Ash's grip tightened around the scroll. He wanted to ignore Lin, to focus on what lay ahead. But the familiar sting of bitterness and anger gnawed at him. He stood up slowly, facing Lin for the first time.
"I'm not like you," Ash said quietly, his voice low but steady.
Lin's eyes flickered with a mix of amusement and disdain. "You're not even a real cultivator. You're just a waste of space, a weak orphan pretending to be something you'll never be."
The tension in the room was palpable. Ash's body tensed, his mind racing. He could feel the pulse of energy within him—the same feeling he had felt when he first read the scroll. The feeling that something inside him was awakening, something he didn't understand yet, but something that could change everything.
Suddenly, without warning, Lin lunged forward, his fists aimed directly at Ash's chest.
The force of the punch was immense, enough to send most people flying back. But Ash didn't move. He didn't even flinch.
He stood still, watching Lin's fist come toward him. In that split second, time seemed to slow down. Ash felt the strange energy surge through his body, and his instincts took over. With a swift, fluid movement, he sidestepped Lin's punch, grabbing his wrist and twisting it.
Lin's face twisted in surprise as Ash pushed him back with a force he hadn't expected. The other two boys moved to intervene, but Ash's gaze was sharp, focused. His body felt lighter, faster, as though the very air around him had changed.
Lin staggered back, glaring at Ash with a mix of fury and confusion. He had never been outclassed by an orphan before. But now, for the first time, he felt the sting of defeat.
"What are you?" Lin spat, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Ash stood tall, his breath steady. "Not your opponent."
With that, he turned and left the library, the ancient scroll still clutched tightly in his hands.
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