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The supreme cultivator return

Semilogo_Olatuyi
7
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 7 chs / week.
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Synopsis
Ye-Liyun, a prodigious genius, saw his cultivation mysteriously decline at age twelve, leaving him a target for constant humiliation. Unaware his mother gave him a ring to sustain an Ancient Immortal Emperor, he discovers the truth and forms a contract for mutual recovery. Aided by the Emperor's supreme guidance, Ye-Liyun begins his path to power. But can he reach his terrifying potential and silence his tormentors, or will he continue to face bullying and humiliation forever?
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Chapter 1 - Bullying The Weak

Chapter 1

Sixteen-year-old Ye-Liyun, the third son of the Clan Head, stood alone in the dusty training grounds. He was stuck in the Physical Refining Phase, a failure at a stage he had surpassed before age ten.

A shadow fell over him. His older brothers, Ye-Feng and Ye-Hao, both Foundation Establishment cultivators, stood sneering.

"Still playing pretend, little brother?" Ye-Feng mocked. "Four years since you were the clan's hope. Now, you're the clan's joke. You're destined for the stables."

"Look at the trash, still wearing that stupid wooden ring his crazy mother gave him," Ye-Hao chuckled.

Ye-Liyun looked up, his eyes blazing. "Leave her out of this."

Ye-Feng's smile vanished. "You dare talk back to your superiors?" He delivered a brutal, open-handed slap that sent Ye-Liyun staggering. "That's for your insolence. Fight back."

Driven by humiliation, Ye-Liyun lunged with a desperate, clumsy punch. Ye-Feng easily countered with a sharp kick to Ye-Liyun's abdomen. A searing pain erupted in Ye-Liyun's core—the pain of his fragile cultivation foundation being violently assaulted.

"Pathetic," Ye-Hao sneered, joining in.

The two brothers rained down kicks and punches, careful to avoid visible marks but inflicting maximum internal damage. Ye-Liyun curled into a ball, enduring the agony. Why does my energy always vanish?

The beating finally stopped.

"Remember this feeling, trash," Ye-Feng spat before they left, their laughter echoing.

Ye-Liyun lay broken. He tried to sit up, but a sharp, catastrophic pain tore through his lower abdomen. The beating had been the final straw. He felt the last vestiges of his spiritual energy violently ripped away by an unseen force within his core.

A mouthful of blood sprayed onto the dirt. His vision swam. His cultivation base was shattered, and he was on the verge of death.

As consciousness faded, his hand instinctively clutched the simple wooden ring on his finger. The wood pulsed with a strange, soothing warmth.

The world went black, and Ye-Liyun felt himself falling into a deep, silent void.