The sky above the Virelion Clan grounds was unusually clear.
Not a single cloud dared to drift across the blue expanse, as if even the heavens had decided to watch what was about to unfold.
Kael stood at the edge of the stone platform, his hands clenched tightly at his sides.
Cold marble pressed against the soles of his worn boots.
Around him, hundreds of eyes were fixed on the central altar—eyes filled with anticipation, pride, jealousy, and hunger.
Today was the Awakening Ceremony.
The day when fate chose favorites.
The day when a child's worth was decided forever.
Kael swallowed.
He had waited for this day for sixteen years.
Sixteen years of whispers behind his back.
Sixteen years of sideways glances and thin smiles.
Sixteen years of being called the useless one when they thought he couldn't hear.
"Next."
The elder's voice echoed across the square, sharp and emotionless.
A boy stepped forward.
Golden light erupted from the awakening stone the moment his palm touched it.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"Third-grade Spirit Core!"
"Impressive!"
"That's the third one today!"
The boy beamed as elders nodded approvingly. His parents stood tall, chests puffed with pride.
Kael didn't look away.
He forced himself to watch.
Because running from reality had never helped him before.
One by one, children stepped forward.
One by one, their destinies were written in light.
White glow—first-grade.
Blue—second-grade.
Gold—third-grade.
A few rare purples sparked murmurs of awe.
Each glow was greeted with applause, cheers, or at the very least, acknowledgment.
Each glow meant belonging.
And each time the light flared, Kael's chest tightened a little more.
"Next. Kael Virelion."
The name cut through the noise like a blade.
Silence fell.
Not the respectful kind.
The awkward, uncomfortable kind.
Kael stepped forward.
He could feel it—the shift in the air, the subtle change in expressions.
Some faces showed pity.
Others showed barely concealed amusement.
A few didn't bother hiding their disdain at all.
At the front of the crowd stood the clan head.
His father.
Lord Arven Virelion.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Clad in robes embroidered with silver sigils.
He didn't smile.
He didn't frown.
He didn't even look disappointed anymore.
He just looked… tired.
Kael's throat burned.
He walked to the altar and placed his palm on the Awakening Stone.
It was cold.
Colder than he expected.
He closed his eyes.
Please.
He didn't ask for greatness.
He didn't ask to stand above others.
He just wanted something.
Anything.
A flicker.
A spark.
A sign that the years of endurance meant something.
The stone remained dark.
Seconds passed.
A murmur spread.
Kael pressed his palm harder.
Nothing.
The elder frowned and waved his hand, channeling energy into the stone.
Still nothing.
The silence thickened until it became suffocating.
Finally, the elder withdrew his hand.
He looked at Kael as one might look at a cracked tool.
"Spirit Core… nonexistent."
The words fell like a death sentence.
For a heartbeat, Kael didn't understand them.
Then the whispers started.
"Again?"
"As expected."
"Sixteen years wasted on him."
A sharp laugh cut through the noise.
Kael didn't need to look to know who it was.
"Still nothing, cousin?"
Lorian Virelion stepped forward, arms crossed, a lazy grin on his face.
Golden energy still shimmered faintly around him—the lingering mark of his third-grade awakening earlier that morning.
"Sixteen years old and still empty," Lorian continued, voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "I almost feel bad."
The crowd chuckled.
Kael's fists trembled.
He looked toward his father.
Lord Arven met his gaze for a brief moment.
Then he looked away.
That hurt more than the laughter.
The elder cleared his throat.
"Kael Virelion," he said formally, "by the laws of the Virelion Clan, those without a Spirit Core cannot cultivate, cannot contribute, and cannot remain under clan protection."
Kael's heart skipped.
No.
Not like this.
"Therefore," the elder continued, voice unwavering, "you are hereby stripped of your clan status."
A collective breath was drawn.
"Effective immediately."
Kael's vision blurred.
Stripped.
Not suspended.
Not delayed.
Stripped.
A guard stepped forward.
Then another.
They didn't touch him.
They didn't need to.
"Take him beyond the outer boundary," the elder said. "Leave him there."
Beyond the boundary.
The place where the beasts roamed.
Where even trained cultivators traveled in groups.
Kael's lips parted.
"Father—"
Lord Arven raised a hand.
"Enough."
One word.
Cold.
Final.
"You are no longer a Virelion," his father said, eyes hard. "Do not speak my name again."
Something shattered inside Kael's chest.
He didn't resist as the guards escorted him away.
The crowd parted to let him pass.
Some watched in silence.
Some smirked.
Some whispered.
No one stopped him.
The gates closed behind him with a heavy clang.
And just like that, Kael's world ended.
The forest beyond the boundary was darker than Kael remembered.
The trees were twisted, their branches clawing at the sky like skeletal hands.
The guards stopped at the edge.
One of them tossed Kael a small pouch.
"Dry rations. A day's worth."
The other avoided his eyes.
"Good luck," he muttered.
Then they turned back.
No ceremony.
No farewell.
Kael stood alone.
The silence pressed in from all sides.
Only then did his legs give out.
He fell to his knees.
His breath came in sharp, broken gasps.
He pressed his forehead to the dirt.
Not because he was weak.
But because he had no tears left to shed.
So this is it, he thought.
This is how I end.
A rustle echoed from deeper within the forest.
Kael's head snapped up.
Two red eyes glinted between the trees.
Then another pair.
And another.
His blood ran cold.
Shadow Wolves.
Low-level beasts—but deadly to someone like him.
Kael staggered backward.
A growl vibrated through the air.
The wolves advanced.
Kael turned and ran.
Branches tore at his clothes.
Roots tripped his steps.
His lungs burned.
The growls grew closer.
He burst into a small clearing and skidded to a stop.
There was nowhere left to run.
The wolves lunged.
Pain exploded across his shoulder as fangs tore into flesh.
Kael screamed and fell.
Another bite sank into his leg.
His vision swam.
The sky above the clearing spun.
So this is how it ends, he thought dimly.
Alone.
Discarded.
Useless to the very end.
Darkness crept in from the edges of his sight.
And then—
[Condition Met.]
A voice echoed in the void.
Not human.
Not beast.
Something else.
[Extreme Despair Detected.]
[Fate Rejection Confirmed.]
[Heaven-Defying Ascension System Initiating…]
Kael's eyes snapped open.
The wolves froze mid-motion, as if time itself had stuttered.
Blue light flooded his vision.
[Host Identified: Kael.]
[Status: Alive—Critical.]
[Compatibility: 100%.]
"What…?" Kael whispered.
Pain still wracked his body, but something warm spread through his veins.
[System Bound.]
A surge of energy exploded from his chest.
The wolves were hurled backward, crashing into trees with bone-shattering force.
Kael gasped as his wounds burned—then sealed.
Blood stopped flowing.
Flesh knit together.
Strength flooded his limbs.
He staggered to his feet.
Hands shaking.
Heart pounding.
Blue translucent panels hovered before his eyes.
[Welcome, Host.]
[You have been discarded by the world.]
[You have been chosen by the System.]
Kael stared at the words.
Chosen.
For the first time in his life…
He laughed.
Not softly.
Not gently.
He laughed like someone who had nothing left to lose.
The forest trembled.
And somewhere far away—
Fate shifted.