Nyara stared at the night sky, contemplating the glow of distant stars. Once, they had seemed to dance in the palm of her hand — now, they felt so far away... so unreachable.
"How will I reclaim all that I've lost? It will take hundreds of years..." she murmured, fists clenched in her lap.
Frustration burned in her chest, mingled with hatred and a searing desire for vengeance. Her mind swirled with questions that had never been answered. What had led her former divine brethren to betray her? Envy? Fear of her power? A conspiracy to divide what was rightfully hers?
Hundreds of possibilities danced like sharpened blades in her thoughts.
"It doesn't matter why..." she whispered, eyes gleaming with fury. "One by one, they will all pay."
Then, a strange sound echoed in her mind — a metallic, high-pitched ding, like the toll of a distant bell reverberating in the void.
DING!
Nyara's expression changed instantly. Her senses sharpened. She slowly rose to her feet, eyes sweeping through the darkness of the silent graveyard.
"Who's there?!" she barked. "Dare to invade my mind and you'll be destroyed!"
But there was no one. No presence but her own... until the voice emerged.
Cold. Artificial. Unyielding.
[Ascension System of the Forgotten Goddess initiated.]
[Establishing link with host fragment... Connection complete.]
Nyara froze.
"System?" she repeated, suspicious. "What divine trickery is this? Who dares to invade my mind?"
[Ascension System: Automated interface designed to restore the divine essence of the original host.]
[Recognition data identifies host as: Nyara. Primary soul fragment detected.]
The words hung in the air like a verdict. She narrowed her eyes.
"Fragment? What do you mean by that?"
[Calculating response: Authority level insufficient.]
Nyara's expression darkened. Her eyes narrowed, her voice low and seething.
"What is your purpose? Why have you invaded my mind?"
The response came instantly, impersonal and unwavering:
[Main functions: status monitoring, mission issuance, absorption of spiritual cores, automated cultivation of divine essence, unlocking of sealed abilities, and knowledge storage.]
Before she could react, a translucent screen materialized before her eyes. Soft blue words pulsed as if alive:
Name: Nyara
Status: Weak / Unstable
Spiritual Core: Sealed / Damaged
Combat Power: Irrelevant
Divine Essence: 0.001%
Nyara clicked her tongue and clenched her fists.
"Irrelevant power..." she repeated to herself, as if the words had pierced her soul.
[Correction: currently irrelevant. The system's goal is to restore the host's cosmic relevance.]
The word "relevance" echoed like thunder in her mind. She, who had once ruled vast celestial domains with a mere gesture, now labeled irrelevant? It would've been laughable — if it didn't hurt so much.
But despite the humiliation, something in the cold logic of those words reignited a spark within her. A small part that had never truly gone out. Wounded pride, yes — but still standing.
Staggering from weakness, Nyara walked toward a cabin she had spotted near the graveyard. It was old, with rotting boards and a partially collapsed roof. Even so, it would do.
As she pushed open the door, it creaked as if protesting her presence. Inside, it was blanketed in dust and shadows. Nyara leaned into the darkest corner, slid down the wall, and let herself fall.
Sleep overtook her quickly. Her body, wounded and exhausted, succumbed as if it bore the weight of ages. And in a way, it did.
The first rays of sunlight pierced through a crack in the roof, touching her face with a cruelty that was almost tender. She opened her eyes slowly, each muscle protesting the night before.
Rising to her feet, she stepped out of the cabin and breathed in the cold morning air. The clothes she wore were in tatters — stained with earth, time, and abandonment. She glanced at herself briefly, and the contempt she felt wasn't for her wretched appearance... but for her powerlessness.
She closed her eyes, diving briefly into the memories that remained in the body she now inhabited. The former owner had been rejected by her own family. No talent. No core. A stained reputation, cast aside to her fate.
Nyara clenched her fists.
"How am I supposed to grow stronger if this body doesn't even have a core?"
In the cultivation world, the core was everything. It stored vital energy. It was the medium through which limits were broken. Ascension without one was impossible — like trying to ignite a fire with waterlogged wood.
The thought was suffocating. But then came another:
If she had once conquered the celestial throne, it was because she turned impossibilities into weapons.
She lifted her eyes to the pale sky.
"Can you hear me, system? Tell me... is there any way to create a new core in this broken body?"
The answer came, firm and direct:
[Affirmative. Necessary conditions: minimum stabilization of soul essence, completion of initiation mission, and absorption of external spiritual fragments.]
Nyara took a deep breath. Her body was pitiful, but now there was a path — distant and treacherous, yes, but a path nonetheless.
And for the first time since awakening in this world... there was a sliver of hope.
"What is the initiation mission, system?" Nyara asked, her voice laced with distrust.
[As a reward for the host's efforts, the system will provide knowledge, artifacts, skills, and more. The initiation mission, once completed, will restore the damaged core of this body, allowing the host to begin the path of cultivation.]
"Then what are you waiting for? Show me the mission already," Nyara snapped.
[Initiation Mission:
Objective: Eliminate the youshen wandering near the graveyard.
Reward: Core restoration.]
Before Nyara could fully process the mission, a shiver ran down her spine — as if her body already sensed the imminent danger.
The wind sliced through the dark forest, hissing among the dry trees of the graveyard. Nyara, standing on a slippery rock, watched the terrain below. A roar echoed through the shadowy vastness, sending birds fleeing in panic.
The youshen had caught her scent.
She didn't know how or why, but one thing was clear: the monster was drawn to her.
"If I run, it'll catch me. If I face it head-on, I'll be crushed..." Nyara muttered, eyes scanning the terrain carefully.
She cautiously descended between the rocks, her wounded body protesting every movement. The sound of the creature approaching grew louder: branches snapping, trees falling. It was huge. Wild. And hungry.
Then it appeared before her — the youshen. A monstrous creature with four powerful legs and muscles rippling under its skin. Its eyes were red like embers, and its obsidian-plated hide glistened under the faint moonlight. Acidic saliva dripped from its jaw, burning the grass where it fell.
Nyara stared at it coldly. Those penetrating eyes, seemingly judging her weakness, didn't intimidate her. Something inside her sparked — as if the beast's presence was insignificant compared to her true self.
The youshen growled, unnerved by Nyara's unwavering gaze. A strange discomfort took over it — as though staring at her meant facing something far more terrifying than its monstrous form.
Suddenly, Nyara turned and dashed into the forest. The youshen, realizing its prey was fleeing, gave chase at full speed. Nyara couldn't run easily — her body was still weak, her muscles aching from internal strife and the frailty of her new form.
But she couldn't afford to be caught. Her mind raced, seeking a way to turn the situation in her favor.
She stopped abruptly, knelt, and grabbed a handful of dirt. When the youshen got close enough, she hurled it into its eyes, momentarily blinding the beast. It thrashed wildly, clawing at the air in fury.
Nyara used the distraction to escape, heart pounding. The creature, now blind, turned in all directions but failed to find her. However, with its keen sense of smell, it was only a matter of time.
Hidden behind a tree, Nyara panted heavily. Her mind boiled with strategies. Then, an idea sparked. A sly smile curved her lips.
She knew the creature was tracking her scent. And now, she would use that.
Stepping out from behind the tree, Nyara called out to the youshen with a mocking smile.
"What's wrong? Looking for me? I'm right here," she taunted, laughing derisively.
Enraged, the youshen charged at her, jaws wide open, ready to devour the fragile girl. Nyara, heart racing, ran straight ahead, feeling its hot breath on her back. Her muscles screamed in protest, but she had to outwit the beast.
At the last moment, she dove to the side, sliding under dry leaves. She quickly hid beneath a fallen log while the creature, unable to stop, slammed into it.
The youshen's fate was sealed. As it tried to attack, it was pierced by a sharp branch that lodged into its open mouth. It let out a guttural roar of pain, but the blow was fatal. The beast collapsed, motionless.
Nyara rose slowly, breathing hard, staring at the massive creature that now lay before her. Its black blood spilled onto the cold, dark soil.