Zane dragged his wounded body through the forest path leading away from the Phoenix Sect. Each step sent fresh waves of pain through his battered form, but he refused to look back at the gates slowly shrinking in the distance behind him.
Inside the sect compound, disciples still stood in shocked silence, staring at the trail of blood that marked his exit. Soren was the first to break the spell that had fallen over them.
"He's lost his cultivation," he remarked, his voice carrying across the courtyard. "How long do you think he'll last outside the sect's protection?"
Zhao Lin crossed his arms, nodding in agreement. "He made plenty of enemies while working for the sect. Those people will cause him trouble once they learn he's vulnerable."
In the shadow of a nearby pillar, Julian watched with a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. Things hadn't gone exactly as planned—Zane should have died in the sword formation—but the outcome was acceptable. With Zane gone and powerless, he was no longer a threat.
A commotion at the gate drew everyone's attention. A group of junior disciples pushed through the crowd, rushing toward the exit.
"Elder brother Zane!" one of them called out, a young woman barely sixteen years old. "Please wait!"
Master Han watched silently as half a dozen disciples ran after Zane, his expression unreadable.
Zane paused on the path, turning to see the group approaching. Despite his pain, his face softened slightly at the sight of them.
"We heard what happened," a young man said, bowing deeply. "We wanted to thank you before you left."
"You helped me correct my sword stance when no one else would spare the time," another added.
"You gave me medicine when I was injured during training."
"You taught me how to meditate properly when I was struggling."
One by one, they expressed their gratitude, each story revealing how Zane had impacted their lives for the better, helping them improve their cultivation and overcome obstacles that had once seemed insurmountable.
Zane looked at their earnest faces, feeling a pang of emotion he hadn't expected. In his previous life, he had never known they felt this way.
"I'm leaving the sect," he said finally. "We won't meet again."
"We understand," the young woman replied, tears in her eyes. "But we wanted you to know that not everyone believes the accusations against you."
"We wish you well on your journey, Elder Brother."
"May the heavens protect you."
They bowed as one, a final show of respect that was worth more to Zane than any recognition the sect leaders had ever given him. With a slight nod, he turned and continued on his way, the weight on his heart a little lighter despite the heaviness in his limbs.
From the gate, Master Han watched the exchange with narrowed eyes before turning away, signaling for the disciples to return to their duties.
Hours later, as twilight painted the sky in shades of amber and purple, Zane sat cross-legged on a flat stone halfway up the mountainside overlooking the valley. The Phoenix Sect compound was visible in the distance, its grand buildings catching the last rays of sunlight.
Blood had dried on his skin, forming a macabre pattern across his body. His breathing was shallow, uneven. The sword formation had done its work well—his meridians were shattered, his cultivation base destroyed.
Yet as he sat in meditation, faint traces of lightning energy began to emanate from his body.
"Starting from scratch," he murmured to himself. "I have nothing to do with the Phoenix Sect anymore."
He raised his hands, moving them in a complex pattern as he began to chant words that felt both strange and familiar on his tongue. The citation was ancient, powerful—words he had discovered only in his previous life, when it was too late to use them.
"Heaven's thunder, earth's flame, converge within this mortal frame."
The air around him began to charge with static electricity. Small arcs of lightning danced between his fingertips.
"In my past life," he continued, speaking to the empty air, "I discovered a treasure too late to use it. The Spirit Meridian Technique—the very technique Julian used to become the youngest Celestial Cultivator."
His voice grew stronger as more energy gathered around him. The technique was dangerous, especially for someone with damaged meridians, but Zane had nothing left to lose.
"This time, I'll claim it for myself."
Lightning struck the ground around him as he continued the incantation. Rocks cracked under the sudden heat, vegetation withered and smoked. The pain was excruciating as the energy coursed through his broken body, seeking out the damaged meridians and burning through the blockages.
"Three realms cannot contain me, five elements bow before me."
As he reached the final stages of the technique, he thrust his palm toward the sky, releasing a stream of pure lightning energy that pierced the darkening heavens like a spear of light.
The weather changed in an instant. Where moments before the sky had been clear, now thunder clouds rolled in from all directions, swirling above him in an unnatural vortex. Day turned to night as the clouds thickened, blotting out the stars.
"Spirit Meridian Technique, final revelation—rebirth through heaven's condemnation!"
The mountain fell silent. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Then, with a crack that shook the very foundations of the earth, a massive bolt of lightning struck down from the center of the vortex, hitting Zane directly.
The impact created a blinding explosion of energy that rippled outward in all directions. Trees bent under the force, rocks disintegrated, and a shockwave of power spread across the valley below.