Tian Rui's footsteps echoed through the narrow hallways of Azure Peak's servant quarters. The sect was still buzzing from the earlier event, whispers of Tian Rui's sudden defiance rippling through the ranks of the disciples. He could feel their eyes on him, even though they were careful to stay out of his way. Fear had a funny way of spreading—he could almost taste it in the air.
He couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching him, waiting for him to slip up. The relic's energy pulsed faintly within him, a constant reminder of the power now locked inside his body.
But he wasn't sure how to control it. Or if he even wanted to.
Tian Rui reached his quarters, a small, dimly lit room that was little more than a cot and a wooden desk. It wasn't much, but it had been enough for him—until now.
Now, everything felt different. Everything felt... wrong.
His thoughts turned back to the relic, to the vision of the war-torn landscape. That figure—the one who had looked at him with recognition—he couldn't shake the feeling that his life had been intertwined with those events long before he had been born. There was something about the Pathless Dao, something ancient and forbidden, that stirred deep within him.
The sudden crash of footsteps outside his door snapped him back to the present. He didn't have time to think.
Without a moment's hesitation, the door burst open, and several disciples from Azure Peak stormed into his room, their faces filled with arrogant grins. They were laughing, mocking, clearly intent on making his life a living hell.
"You really think you can defy the Sect, servant?" one of them sneered, his eyes gleaming with malice. "You're nothing. Just a broken boy. You should know your place."
Tian Rui stood, his body stiff, but his mind was a storm. The same storm that had awakened the power within him, the one that told him he wasn't weak anymore.
A surge of energy welled up inside him, almost too fast to control, and his fingers crackled with dark energy.
"Leave," Tian Rui's voice was barely above a whisper, but the threat in his tone was unmistakable.
The disciples laughed, stepping closer.
"You think we're scared of you?" The leader, a tall youth named Zhang Wei, sneered. "You're nothing but a servant. You don't even have a spirit root."
Tian Rui didn't speak again. His fingers flicked out, and before he could even think, a bolt of black lightning shot from his hand, striking Zhang Wei in the chest.
The air was filled with the crackle of energy, and the disciples were thrown back, gasping in shock.
Zhang Wei crumpled to the floor, his eyes wide with disbelief. The other disciples scrambled to their feet, but Tian Rui didn't wait for them to make a move. His body was moving on its own now, an instinct he didn't fully understand, but he couldn't deny it. He couldn't stop it.
One of the disciples lunged at him, but Tian Rui moved faster, sidestepping and striking him down with a swift, brutal punch that sent him flying into the wall. Another disciple swung a sword, but Tian Rui barely registered it before the blade was shattered by a single blast of energy.
The remaining disciples hesitated, realizing they were no longer facing the weak servant boy. They were facing something... other.
"Run." Tian Rui's voice was cold, detached. It felt like someone else was speaking. The power within him had taken over, and he didn't know how to stop it.
The remaining disciples fled, their faces filled with terror. Tian Rui stood in the center of the room, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. The aftermath of his attack was silent, the stillness punctuated only by the fading crackle of energy in the air.
Zhang Wei lay unconscious on the ground, a dark bruise already forming on his chest where Tian Rui's lightning had struck.
For a moment, Tian Rui felt nothing but the weight of his actions. This wasn't the servant boy anymore. This was something new. Something dangerous.
But the part of him that had been broken—the part that had always been powerless—felt alive for the first time in his life.