🦊 The Destined Scion (Volume I, Chapter 1)
## The Celestial Fox Descends
Twelve years before our tale begins, the Heavens themselves wept blood.
The Kyūbi—a Nine-Tailed Celestial Fox of the Demon-Grade Heavenly Spirit class—tore through the dimensional veil and manifested in the mortal realm. This was no mere spirit beast. This was a calamity given form, a tribulation sent by the Heavens to test whether the Hidden Leaf Sect was worthy of continued existence.
Each of its nine tails contained enough concentrated Malefic Qi to shatter mountains into dust. Its roar carried the sound of ten thousand tortured souls, capable of directly assaulting the Nascent Souls of weaker cultivators and causing immediate Qi deviation unto death.
The sect's protective formations—arrays laid down by founding ancestors over ten thousand years—crumbled like rotten wood before a hurricane. Defensive treasures that had withstood sieges from demonic cultivators evaporated under waves of corrupted spiritual energy.
Elders at the Core Formation Realm fell like wheat before the scythe, their life essence harvested by mere proximity to the beast's overwhelming power. Junior disciples perished by the hundreds, their meridians exploding from spiritual pressure alone.
The Heavens were blind! The Earth was unjust! Where was the mercy for the innocent?!
Only one man possessed the strength and resolve to face such catastrophe.
Mi Na To—Fourth Venerable Elder, Heavenly Blade Sovereign, He Who Severed the Thunder Tribulation in a Single Strike—stood alone against the apocalypse.
Having recently ascended to the True Immortal Venerable Realm after comprehending the profundities of the Dao of Space and Time, he understood both what must be done and what it would cost. The price would be ultimate. The sacrifice would be absolute.
There existed only one technique capable of sealing a Demon-Grade Heavenly Spirit: the Reaper Death Seal, a Forbidden Art passed down from the sect's ancient origins, never meant to be used save in the most desperate of circumstances.
The cost? Nothing less than the caster's immortal soul, delivered unto the Death God himself as eternal payment.
But even this was insufficient! The Celestial Fox's power was too immense, too primordial to seal in mere emptiness. It required a vessel—a human Jinchuriki with the constitution to contain such overwhelming spiritual force without immediately having their meridians torn asunder.
Mi Na To made the choice that would echo through the generations.
His newborn son would become that vessel.
"Forgive me, my child," Mi Na To whispered as the sealing formation blazed with otherworldly radiance. "You will bear a burden no mortal should carry. But I have faith—faith that you will transform this curse into destiny, this tribulation into opportunity. Walk the path I cannot, and surpass even your father's humble achievements!"
The Eight Trigrams Sealing Formation manifested in concentric circles of golden light, each ring inscribed with ancient runic characters that predated the sect itself. The thrashing Celestial Fox howled in rage and terror as it felt its power being compressed, contained, **sealed**.
Mi Na To's body began to dissolve, his very essence torn from the mortal plane to satisfy the Death God's hunger.
With a final gesture, he pressed his palm against his infant son's stomach. The seal burned itself directly into the child's spiritual core, intertwining with his meridians, becoming inseparable from his very existence.
The baby's name was Na Ru Tio.
As the sealing light faded, Mi Na To's soul ascended to the heavenly realms, his name inscribed upon the eternal Scroll of Martyrs—forever honored, forever remembered. The Third Venerable Elder, Sa Ru To, emerged from decades of secluded cultivation to govern the shattered sect and guide its traumatized disciples back from the brink of annihilation.
By decree of the Third Venerable himself, the truth was sealed: none could speak to Na Ru Tio of his burden. To do so would be to condemn the child to a life of conscious persecution.
How naive. How foolish. As if silence could hide what the heart already knew.
---
## Twelve Years Later
*The Heavens are unjust! The strong prey upon the weak! Those without backing are destined to be trampled beneath the boots of young masters!*
Such were the eternal truths of the cultivation world, and Na Ru Tio learned them all too well.
Twelve years had transformed the Hidden Leaf Sect from smoking ruins to recovered glory, but one constant remained unchanged: the treatment of Mi Na To's son.
Na Ru Tio, now twelve years of age, struggled at the very bottom of the Sect Academy hierarchy. His Cultivation Aptitude assessment had branded him "severely deficient"—a humiliating designation that marked him as barely worthy of consuming sect resources. While other disciples his age prepared to break through to Foundation Establishment, he remained mired in the early Qi Gathering Stage, unable to even circulate his Qi properly.
His most basic technique—the Low-Grade Clone Art that even children mastered within months—consistently failed. The clones he produced were pale, sickly abominations that dissipated like morning mist.
"Trash!" the other disciples jeered. "Even a mortal farmer's son has better talent than the Demon Host!"
But cultivation failure was not his true curse. No, his true tribulation was far more insidious.
The disciples and elders **knew** what he carried.
They saw not the fourth sect leader son—not the child of a legendary hero who had sacrificed everything—but rather the walking prison of the beast that had slaughtered their families and reduced their homes to ash.
Twelve years had not dulled their hatred. Twelve years had only taught them to refine it, to express it through cold distance, contemptuous whispers, and eyes that looked upon him as one might regard a plague-carrier.
"The Jinchuriki," they called him when they thought he couldn't hear—though of course, he always could. "The Demon Host. The Monster'sCage. Tainted. Cursed."
No one explained why they feared and reviled him. The Third Venerable's decree prevented direct explanation, but their eyes spoke volumes: *You are the monster's prison, and we despise you for the crime of existing.*
This one does not blame them for their hatred—their families died screaming, after all—but neither does this one excuse their blindness! They could not see that Na Ru Tio was also a victim! That he bore a burden none of them could comprehend!
Truly, the Heavens were testing him with tribulations that would break lesser men!
Na Ru Tio coped the only way a scorned youth could—through brazen acts of rebellion that screamed into the uncaring void: **I exist! I am here! Acknowledge me!**
That morning, as the sun barely crested the eastern peaks, he scaled the Monument of Venerated Elders in the sect's central plaza. This monument—carved from thousand-year-old jade and inscribed with the names of every sect elder who had ascended to immortality—was the most sacred structure outside the Elder's Hall itself.
Na Ru Tio defaced it with garish orange paint, each stroke a desperate cry for recognition.
"This young master refuses to be ignored!" he shouted to the gathering crowd. "If you won't see my worth, then you'll see my rebellion!"
*Courting death!* The classic response of those who witnessed such brazen disrespect!
"Fool boy!" sneered a haughty Inner Disciple whose jade robes marked him as Core Formation Realm—a full two great realms above Na Ru Tio. "Seeking attention only brings calamity upon your own head! You dare profane the Monument of Elders? You truly don't know the immensity of heaven and earth!"
The Inner Disciple raised his hand, spiritual pressure building for a punishing strike that would cripple Na Ru Tio's meridians—
"**Enough.**"
I Ru Ka descended like judgment itself, his Foundation Establishment aura flaring to suppress the Inner Disciple's attack. Though only mid-tier in the grand hierarchy, his cultivation was stable and his killing intent genuine enough to give even arrogant young masters pause.
"This student is **my** responsibility," I Ru Ka stated coldly. "Any who wish to discipline him must first pass through this humble one."
The Inner Disciple ground his teeth but retreated, unwilling to escalate into a true confrontation. I Ru Ka's parents had died in the Celestial Fox's rampage—everyone knew this—yet here he stood, defending the very vessel of that beast.
*Either he is a saint or a fool,* the onlookers thought. *Perhaps both.*
I Ru Ka grabbed the protesting boy by the collar and dragged him toward the Academy Hall, his face a mask of stern disappointment. But those who looked closely might have noticed something else in his eyes—not hatred, but a profound, aching pity.
He alone saw past the seal. He alone recognized the suffering child beneath the cursed reputation.
---
The Academy Hall thrummed with nervous spiritual energy. Today marked the Final Examination for Advancement—the trial that separated Academy Students from true Qi Gathering Disciples, the first genuine step upon the Ten Thousand Li Cultivation Road.
Failure meant remaining a student for another year, consuming sect resources without contributing, becoming a burden and a laughingstock.
Success meant receiving one's sect token, access to the Technique Pavilion's first three floors, monthly spirit stone allowances, and most importantly—**acknowledgment** as a true cultivator worthy of investment.
Mi Zu Ki stood before the assembled students, his smile warm and his eyes cold as winter frost. He was a Foundation Establishment instructor of middling talent and questionable character, but none of the students possessed sufficient cultivation to perceive the shadow of corruption lurking beneath his benevolent facade.
"Young disciples," he announced, his voice carrying false warmth, "the trial is elegantly simple. Successfully execute the Low-Grade Clone Technique with sufficient Qi control to maintain the clone's corporeal form for ten full breaths. Those who succeed ascend. Those who fail... remain behind."
*Simple words, but a tribulation nonetheless!* For many present, this represented the culmination of years of training!
One by one, students stepped forward to demonstrate their mastery.
A merchant clan's son produced two stable clones. "Adequate. Pass."
An elder's granddaughter manifested three clones that performed synchronized movements. "Excellent control. Pass with distinction."
Each success was met with family celebrations—proud parents, approving elders, jealous peers. The successful students received their tokens with swelling hearts and grand dreams of future glory.
*Ah, to have family support and ancestral techniques! Truly, some are born beneath lucky stars while others are cursed from the womb!*
Then came Na Ru Tio's turn.
The hall fell silent—not with anticipation, but with contemptuous expectation of failure.
He stepped forward, feeling the weight of dozens of hostile stares burning into his back like spiritual probes. His hands formed the required seals—each one memorized through ten thousand failed attempts, each finger position carved into his muscle memory through sheer, stubborn repetition.
He channeled his Qi, pulling from his core where the Eight Trigrams Seal glowed with suppressed power...
But the Kyūbi's presence **corrupted** everything it touched. His spiritual energy moved in violent, chaotic surges like a river during storm season, impossible to control with the gentle precision the technique required. The Demon Fox's Malefic Qi leaked through the seal's cracks, poisoning his own pure cultivation base.
*Heavens above! How can a cultivator advance when their own Qi rebels against them?! This is the ultimate tribulation—to be sabotaged by the very power that should strengthen you!*
The clone that manifested was a grotesque, pale mockery—more ghost than flesh, its features distorted and unstable. It lasted barely three seconds before collapsing into dissipating smoke with a pathetic wheeze.
**COMPLETE FAILURE.**
Mocking laughter erupted across the hall like a demonic chorus.
"As expected from the Demon Host!"
"Even mortal children can maintain clones longer!"
"Trash! Utter trash! Why does the sect waste resources on such defective goods?"
At the center of this contempt sat U Zi Che—the Uchiha Clan's peerless prodigy, blessed with the supreme Sharingan Bloodline that marked him as heaven's chosen. Already touching the Peak Qi Gathering Stage at age twelve, his talent was so profound that elders predicted he would reach Core Formation before age twenty—a speed that occurred perhaps once per generation.
His Sharingan eyes—those legendary crimson pupils containing three tomoe marks that could perceive the flow of Qi itself, copy techniques with a single glance, and see through all deception—regarded Na Ru Tio with the kind of absolute contempt reserved for insects beneath one's boot.
*Trash bloodline. Trash technique. Trash spirit. This one's fate is already sealed by the Heavens themselves. He will never ascend beyond the lowest realms. His Heavenly Mandate is non-existent—he is simply not chosen. Some are destined for glory; others are destined to kneel and watch greatness pass them by.*
U Zi Che didn't even bother voicing his contempt aloud. That would require acknowledging Na Ru Tio existed at all.
Mi Zu Ki's voice cut through the mocking laughter like a blade through silk. "Na Ru Tio. You have failed to demonstrate even rudimentary Qi control. Per sect regulations, you will remain an Academy Student and retake this examination next year."
His tone was sympathetic, but his eyes gleamed with something else—satisfaction, perhaps? Planning?
"This examination is concluded. Successful disciples, report to the Assignment Hall tomorrow morning to receive your Triad placements. Dismissed!"
The words fell like an executioner's verdict.
*The Heavens are unjust! Talent alone does not determine worth! Yet the cultivation world recognizes only strength and despises weakness! This is the eternal truth—the strong eat meat while the weak don't even get soup!*
---
That evening, Na Ru Tio sat alone on a wooden swing outside the Academy, watching successful students celebrate with their families. Proud parents embraced talented children. Elders presented sect tokens with solemn ceremony. Friends congratulated friends.
He had none of this. He had only the swing, the setting sun, and the bitter whispers that drifted from nearby tea stalls.
"That boy contains the demon that killed my brother..."
"The Jinchuriki should never have been allowed within sect walls..."
"Mi Na To's sacrifice was wasted on such worthless offspring. Better the Celestial Fox had simply been destroyed..."
"Ai, but what can we do? The Third Venerable decreed he must be protected. We can only endure his presence..."
Each whisper carved deeper into his already shattered Dao Heart—that spiritual foundation upon which all cultivation depends. How much can one heart endure before it breaks completely? How many rejections can one soul withstand before it crumbles to dust?
*This young master refuses to accept this fate!* Na Ru Tio's inner voice raged. *There must be a way! There must be a path forward! I will not be trampled beneath the boots of those who judge me for circumstances beyond my control!*
"Na Ru Tio."
The voice was soft, sympathetic—a lifeline extended to a drowning man.
Mi Zu Ki approached as if by mere chance, his expression crafted to perfection: concerned teacher stumbling upon suffering student. His acting was impeccable, refined through years of deception.
"Senior Mi Zu Ki..." Na Ru Tio looked up, desperate hope warring with ingrained suspicion.
"Your failure today was profoundly unjust," Mi Zu Ki said quietly, glancing around as if worried about eavesdroppers. "I've observed your training for years. The truth that the other instructors refuse to acknowledge is this: your Qi **capacity** is actually exceptional—far beyond your peers, perhaps even reaching Foundation Establishment levels already."
Na Ru Tio's eyes widened. Someone... recognized his potential?
"The problem," Mi Zu Ki continued, settling beside him on an adjacent swing, "is not lack of talent, but rather **incompatibility**. The Academy's basic techniques were designed for disciples with normal, stable Qi flows. But your constitution is... unique. Special. These pedestrian techniques are simply insufficient for someone of your exceptional spiritual capacity."
*Ai! Finally! Finally someone who understands!* Na Ru Tio's desperate heart latched onto these words like a cultivator grabbing a heavenly treasure.
Mi Zu Ki produced a scroll from within his robes—ancient, wrapped in faded crimson silk, radiating faint but unmistakable spiritual pressure. Even someone with Na Ru Tio's poor spiritual sense could feel the power contained within.
"This is the Forbidden Scroll of Sealing," Mi Zu Ki whispered, his voice taking on a conspirator's tone. "It contains high-tier techniques developed by the sect's founding ancestors—techniques that ordinary disciples could never master because they require massive Qi reserves. Reserves that **you** possess."
He pressed the scroll into Na Ru Tio's trembling hands.
"Master just one technique—any single technique from this scroll—and I will personally authorize your advancement to official Qi Gathering Disciple status. I give you my word as a Foundation Establishment cultivator!"
The offer was intoxicating. Recognition. Acknowledgment. Proof that he wasn't the worthless trash everyone claimed.
"But... but it's forbidden..." Na Ru Tio stammered, though his hands clutched the scroll tighter. "Won't the Third Venerable—"
"The Third Venerable doesn't need to know," Mi Zu Ki interrupted smoothly, his smile never wavering. "Think of this as... an unofficial trial. Take the scroll tonight. Study in the forest until dawn—somewhere private where you won't be disturbed. Return with proof of mastery, and I'll ensure your advancement is formalized before anyone realizes the scroll was temporarily borrowed."
*A test! A hidden opportunity for this young master to prove his worth!*
Every instinct Na Ru Tio possessed screamed warnings. This was wrong. This violated sect law. This was clearly—
But desperation is the cruelest poison. It clouds judgment, silences caution, transforms obvious traps into glittering opportunities.
"I... I'll do it!" Na Ru Tio declared, his decision made. "I'll master a technique and prove I'm not trash! I'll show everyone!"
Mi Zu Ki's smile widened fractionally—a predator watching prey walk into the trap.
"Excellent. Now go quickly, before the night watch begins their rounds. And Na Ru Tio?" His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "Tell no one. This opportunity is for you alone."
Na Ru Tio fled into the night, the Forbidden Scroll clutched to his chest like a sacred treasure, completely unaware that he carried not opportunity, but rather the first piece in a traitor's scheme.
Behind him, Mi Zu Ki's benevolent expression melted away, replaced by cold calculation.
*Perfect. The fool takes the bait. Now I simply wait for the sect's formations to detect the scroll's movement, for the Elders to mobilize, for chaos to provide cover... and then I claim my true prize.*
*Trash Jinchuriki. You will serve your purpose and die knowing you were nothing but a tool.*
---
The forest surrounding the Hidden Leaf Sect was ancient beyond mortal reckoning—trees that had stood for ten thousand years, their roots drinking from spiritual veins deep beneath the earth, their canopies touching the domain of flying spirit beasts.
This was no place for a mere Qi Gathering disciple to train.
But Na Ru Tio, driven by desperate determination, plunged deep into the woods until he found a small clearing illuminated by moonlight—a natural formation where spiritual energy gathered densely enough to make his skin tingle.
*Perfect! This young master will master a technique tonight or die trying!*
He unrolled the Forbidden Scroll with trembling hands.
The techniques inscribed within were... terrifying. Each one required cultivation bases far beyond his current level. The first technique alone demanded Foundation Establishment realm minimum, with descriptions of Qi circulation patterns so complex they made his head spin.
*Impossible! These techniques are for Core Formation experts and above! How can this young master—*
Then he saw it. Near the end of the scroll, almost as an afterthought, a technique marked with a warning label:
**"Great Shadow Clone Art (Tajuu Kage Bunshin) - FORBIDDEN. Extreme Qi consumption. Will kill cultivators below Core Formation Realm through complete spiritual exhaustion. Authorized for Nascent Soul Realm cultivators only. Creates fully corporeal clones that divide user's consciousness and Qi equally among all manifestations."**
*Forbidden because it requires massive Qi capacity...* Na Ru Tio's eyes lit with sudden understanding. *But what if... what if my Qi capacity is sufficient? Mi Zu Ki said my reserves were exceptional! Perhaps this is the technique meant for me!*
The logic was flawed, the reasoning desperate—but sometimes, the Heavens favor the foolish bold.
Na Ru Tio began studying the hand seals, the Qi circulation patterns, the mental techniques for consciousness division. The Great Shadow Clone Art was devastatingly simple in theory: pour massive amounts of Qi into creating perfect duplicates of oneself, each clone being fully real and capable of independent action.
The reason it was forbidden? Because creating even a single shadow clone drained half the user's total Qi. Creating two drained two-thirds. The Qi cost scaled exponentially—attempting to create multiple clones would literally drain a normal cultivator's spiritual energy to nothing, collapsing their meridians and potentially crippling their cultivation forever.
*But this young master is not normal!* Na Ru Tio's determination blazed. *I carry the Celestial Fox! My Qi reserves must be enormous! This technique... this technique was made for me!*
Hours passed. The moon traversed the sky. Na Ru Tio practiced the hand seals ten thousand times until his fingers moved faster than thought.
Then, as dawn approached, he gathered every ounce of his volatile, chaotic Qi.
The Eight Trigrams Seal on his stomach burned as he pulled power from reserves he'd never properly accessed—vast, turbulent oceans of spiritual energy tainted by the Kyūbi's Malefic Qi but nonetheless **available**.
His hands blurred through the seals.
"**Great Shadow Clone Art!**"
The Qi expenditure was catastrophic—it felt like his meridians were being scoured clean, like his spiritual sea was being drained by ten thousand leeches simultaneously.
But it **worked**.
One clone appeared. Then two. Then five. Then ten.
*More! This young master can create more!*
Twenty. Thirty. Fifty.
The clearing filled with perfect, solid duplicates—each one fully real, each one containing a fragment of his consciousness, each one grinning with the same triumphant euphoria.
When the technique finally exhausted itself, Na Ru Tio collapsed, gasping for breath, surrounded by **dozens** of perfectly formed shadow clones.
He'd done it. He'd actually mastered a high-tier Forbidden Technique.
*Hahahaha! The Heavens do not abandon those with determination! Trash can become treasure if given the right opportunity! This young master will—*
"Truly impressive. For trash, anyway."
I Ru Ka emerged from the tree line, his expression caught between shock and grudging admiration. He'd been tracking Na Ru Tio since the theft was discovered, expecting to find the boy attempting something foolish.
This exceeded all expectations.
"Master I Ru Ka!" Na Ru Tio struggled to his feet, grinning despite exhaustion. "I did it! I mastered a technique! Now I can graduate! Now everyone will acknowledge—"
"**Well, well. The little Jinchuriki proves useful after all.**"
The temperature dropped ten degrees.
Mi Zu Ki stepped into the clearing, but the benevolent instructor was gone. In his place stood something twisted—a cultivator whose spiritual pressure radiated corruption, whose eyes gleamed with Heart Demon madness, whose very presence made the spiritual energy in the area recoil.
His Foundation Establishment aura flared with chaotic Demonic Qi—the unmistakable signature of one who had abandoned righteous cultivation for forbidden methods that promised rapid advancement at the cost of one's humanity.
"Senior Mi Zu Ki?" I Ru Ka's voice hardened immediately, his own aura flaring defensively. "You've fallen to demonic cultivation?!"
"Fallen?" Mi Zu Ki laughed—a sound like breaking glass. "**Fallen?** No, Junior Brother I Ru Ka. I have **ascended** beyond this pathetic sect's limitations! Their 'righteous cultivation methods' are nothing but chains designed to keep true power from those who truly deserve it!"
His spiritual pressure surged, pressing down on both Na Ru Tio and I Ru Ka like a physical weight.
"For years I've cultivated in secret, preparing for this moment! The Forbidden Scroll contains not just techniques, but the location of the sect's ancestral treasury—secrets the Elders hoard for themselves! And this foolish boy delivered it right into my hands!"
He formed a hand seal, manifesting a blade of pure corrupted Qi—the signature weapon of demonic cultivators, formed from one's own polluted spiritual energy and the anguished souls of those they'd devoured to fuel their advancement.
"But before I depart this wretched place forever, allow me to grant the Demon Host one final gift—the truth the Elders forbade anyone from speaking!"
No! I Ru Ka lunged forward, trying to silence Mi Zu Ki, but a barrier of Demonic Qi slammed him backward.
Mi Zu Ki pointed an accusing finger at the horrified Na Ru Tio, his voice rising to fill the entire forest.
"Do you know why everyone hates you, boy? Do you understand why even children spit at your shadow? It's not mere superstition! It's not baseless fear!"
"You are the container! The living prison of the Kyūbi Nine-Tailed Celestial Fox!"
The words struck like heavenly lightning directly to Na Ru Tio's Dao Heart.
"That monster that destroyed our sect twelve years ago—that beast that slaughtered thousands, that tore families apart, that reduced entire districts to smoking ash—it is sealed within your worthless body! You are not merely cursed! You ARE the curse itself!"
Na Ru Tio's world shattered. Every hateful look. Every whispered curse. Every moment of isolation and rejection—it all made terrible, horrifying sense.
I am... the demon? I am the monster? I am the reason they all suffered?
"Every person who died that night!" Mi Zu Ki continued, reveling in the boy's devastation. "Every family torn apart! Every home reduced to rubble! Their blood stains your very existence! You are a walking monument to tragedy! The Elders forbade anyone from telling you, wanting to protect your fragile feelings—but now you know the truth!"
"You are nothing but a container! A vessel! A tool to imprison a monster! And tools have no rights, no dreams, no destiny! You will never be acknowledged because you don't deserve acknowledgment!"
CRACK.
The sound was metaphysical—Na Ru Tio's Dao Heart fracturing under the weight of absolute revelation.
Everything... everything I've endured... it's because I'm...
His knees buckled. His vision swam. The shadow clones around him flickered and began dissipating as his concentration shattered.
I'm not human. I'm just... a prison. A cage for a monster.
Why did father seal it in me? Why did he curse me with this existence? Why was I born only to be hated?
Despair—true, absolute despair—began consuming his spirit like poison.
But then—
"ENOUGH!"
I Ru Ka threw himself directly into Mi Zu Ki's descending blade strike, taking the full force of the corrupted Qi burst across his chest.
Blood exploded from the wound—Foundation
Establishment cultivators could survive tremendous damage, but Demonic Qi attacks carried soul-corrupting properties that made them far more lethal than normal strikes.
He crashed to the ground, blood pouring from his mouth, his meridians visibly corroding from the demonic contamination.
"MASTER!" Na Ru Tio's scream tore through the forest.
"Na Ru Tio..." I Ru Ka gasped, forcing himself to his knees despite the agony ravaging his spiritual system. "Listen... to me..."
He locked eyes with the devastated boy, and in those eyes, Na Ru Tio saw something he'd never seen before—not pity, not fear, but genuine, fierce conviction.
"You are not... the Demon Fox."
The words were simple, but they carried the weight of absolute truth.
"You are not... the monster. You carry a burden—yes. You bear a seal that no child should ever bear. But bearing that burden... does not define your worth. It does not determine your destiny!"
I Ru Ka coughed, more blood spilling, but his voice grew stronger.
"You are Na Ru Tio. You are a cultivator of the Hidden Leaf Sect. You are my student. And I am... proud of you."
Proud? The word was incomprehensible. Proud of trash? Proud of a demon container? Proud of—
"You worked harder than anyone. You endured what would break others. You pursued your dream despite facing hatred every single day. That determination—that refusal to surrender—that is your Dao. That is what makes you human. That is what makes you worthy."
Something shifted in Na Ru Tio's shattered Dao Heart.
The cracks didn't heal—they reforged, like metal tempered in flames, emerging stronger than before.
Master... sees me. Not the seal. Not the demon. ME.
The despair that had threatened to consume him transformed. Refined. Crystallized into something else entirely.
Righteous fury.
"I swear by the Nine Heavens and the Eternal Earth!" Na Ru Tio's voice erupted from his very soul, carrying spiritual pressure that made the trees tremble. "You dare harm my Master?! You dare call me trash?! You dare claim I have no worth?!"
His Qi exploded outward—chaotic, violent, but no longer aimless. For the first time in his life, his power responded with perfect synchronization to his will.
"This young master may be trash today, but trash can be refined into treasure! This young master may be scorned now, but the scorned today become the feared tomorrow! You think my destiny is determined?! WATCH AS I DEFY THE HEAVENS THEMSELVES!"
"You will regret this day for ten thousand generations! I swear upon my Dao that you will witness my ascension! You will see trash become legend! DO NOT BULLY A YOUNG MAN FOR BEING POOR! DO NOT BULLY A YOUNG MAN FOR HAVING NOTHING! THIRTY YEARS EAST OF THE RIVER, THIRTY YEARS WEST—TODAY'S TRASH IS TOMORROW'S IMMORTAL VENERABLE!" (😂 I can't help.myself, just kept laughing writing this)
His hands blurred through seals faster than thought itself, his Qi responding with unprecedented clarity.
"GREAT SHADOW CLONE ART: TEN THOUSAND MANIFESTATIONS!"
The forest exploded with clones.
Dozens became hundreds. Hundreds became thousands. Each one solid, real, burning with synchronized righteous fury.
The entire clearing, the surrounding forest, even the nearby mountain paths—all filled with perfect duplicates of Na Ru Tio, each one radiating the same defiant determination.
Mi Zu Ki's eyes widened in genuine terror. "Impossible! That technique requires—the Qi consumption alone should have killed—HOW?!"
His answer came in the form of ten thousand simultaneous fists.
"HEAVEN-DEFYING BEATDOWN!"
The corrupted cultivator never stood a chance. Foundation Establishment realm or not, demonic cultivation or not—no single cultivator could withstand the combined assault of thousands of attackers striking as one coordinated force.
Within moments, Mi Zu Ki lay unconscious, his Qi sealed, his demonic cultivation crippled, his ambitions shattered as thoroughly as he'd tried to shatter Na Ru Tio's spirit.
The shadow clones dissipated, leaving only the original Na Ru Tio standing above his defeated enemy, chest heaving, tears streaming down his face—but no longer tears of despair.
Tears of resolution. Tears of rebirth.
I Ru Ka smiled through his pain, blood still trickling from his lips. "Well done... my student. This is only... the beginning of your legend."
Minutes later, the Third Venerable Elder arrived with senior disciples, drawn by the massive spiritual disturbance.
Sa Ru To surveyed the scene with ancient eyes that had witnessed ten thousand years of mortal drama: Mi Zu Ki bound and unconscious, the Forbidden Scroll recovered, I Ru Ka wounded but alive, and Na Ru Tio standing guard over all—a loyal disciple despite everything the sect had failed to provide him.
The Third Venerable studied the boy for a long moment, seeing perhaps what Mi Na To had seen twelve years ago.
"Na Ru Tio," Sa Ru To said, his voice carrying the weight of mountains. "You have recovered the Forbidden Scroll, exposed a traitor, and protected your Master despite learning a truth that would shatter most cultivators' Dao Hearts."
He produced an official sect token—bronze, inscribed with formation characters, radiating faint spiritual energy.
"You are hereby promoted to official Qi Gathering Disciple status. Report to the Assignment Hall tomorrow to receive your Triad placement."
Na Ru Tio accepted the token with trembling hands, unable to speak past the emotion choking his throat.
Sa Ru To turned to leave, then paused.
"Your ancestors would be proud."
The words were spoken quietly, almost carelessly—but they struck Na Ru Tio's heart harder than any technique.
Linage... was proud? Would be proud?
As the Third Venerable vanished in a blur of spatial distortion, Na Ru Tio clutched his sect token and made a silent vow:
I will become the True Immortal Venerable. I will force every person who scorned me to acknowledge my name. I will prove that destiny is not determined by circumstances of birth, but by strength of will.
This is my Dao. This is my Heavenly Mandate.
And nothing—not hatred, not contempt, not even the Celestial Fox sealed within—will prevent me from achieving it!