Chapter 22 – The Journey Begins
The morning sun painted the sky in a soft orange hue as Jin stood on the edge of the dense forest where he had recovered for two years. His eyes, once filled with pain and uncertainty, now burned with a focused determination. The memory of Elder Varek's betrayal still echoed in his heart, a constant reminder of the cruelty that lurked behind smiles and authority. He adjusted the plain robe he'd fashioned from animal hides and a few scraps salvaged from passing travelers, tightened the belt around his waist, and took a deep breath. The journey south would be long, and it would test him in ways the forest never could.
The southern region of Detrox was known for its towering cities, grand sects, and powerful cultivators. Unlike the Aegis Sect, which hid its rot behind tradition and hierarchy, the great sects in the south valued talent and power above all else. There, Jin hoped to find someone capable of guiding his strange and rapidly growing abilities—a teacher, a mentor, maybe even a true ally in this unforgiving world.
His first step was tentative, almost reverent. The leaves crunched softly beneath his sandals. Every step away from the forest felt like a step away from death—and a step toward rebirth.
As he traveled, Jin avoided the main roads, opting for the lesser-known paths through hills and forests. His recovery had returned his body to prime condition, but he remained cautious. Word of his survival hadn't yet reached Aegis—or so he hoped—but he couldn't afford to risk running into sect scouts or informants. He kept his energy suppressed and aura hidden, a trick the dark orb had somehow helped him master. Whatever it was, it had become a part of him now.
Three days into his journey, Jin reached a small settlement called Varnel's Rest. It was a rugged village built into the base of a shallow mountain, known mostly as a trading hub for wandering cultivators. Jin entered with a hood pulled over his head and his presence masked. He had no desire to make connections here—only to gather supplies and hear news from the wider world.
He entered a modest tavern nestled beside a blacksmith's forge. The smell of roasted meat and ale filled the air. Jin took a corner seat, ordered a bowl of broth with dried meat, and quietly listened to the conversations around him.
"Did you hear about the Howling wind Sect?" a merchant with a bushy beard said loudly. "Took in a kid who awakened a wind talent of high grade. Said he'd already reached late stage initiate Realm before joining. Madness!"
Jin's ears perked up.
"Howling wind?" another man replied, leaning forward. "They've been recruiting aggressively. Word is they're preparing for the Celestial Trials in three years. Anyone promising enough gets a personal trainer and access to their inner sanctum."
Celestial Trials. Jin hadn't heard of them before. But it sounded like something important—an event that could attract the eyes of powerful figures. He made a mental note to learn more about it later.
After finishing his meal, Jin traded a small beast core he had hunted earlier for travel supplies: dried rations, a waterskin, some herbs, and a crude but functional map of the southern provinces. He left without drawing attention, slipping into the mountain trails leading toward the Riverline Path—a long stretch of trade road that ran toward the great cities in the south.
The next few weeks blurred into a rhythm of walking, hunting, resting, and training. Jin had no luxury of sect resources, but he improvised. Each morning, he practiced his body and soul techniques. Though still at the early Initiate stage in both, he could feel his foundation stabilizing.
The elemental aspect of his cultivation, however, was… different.
One night, as he meditated under the moonlight, the fire element within him flared. A small flame hovered above his palm—no longer wild and unpredictable as before. It was calm now, obedient to his will. Then came a strange sensation. A whisper, a ripple from within, and suddenly—wind stirred around him. It wasn't enough to form an attack, but it was the first sign of a new awakening.
He wasn't ready to call it a wind affinity yet. But he knew something was stirring.
The dark orb that had saved him remained quiet, but sometimes, during deep meditation, he felt it pulse. It wasn't malevolent, but it was watching—learning. Perhaps it was doing the same as him: growing stronger in silence.
Two more towns came and went. Jin avoided interaction, refusing to register with any local sects or guilds. In Riverbend, he heard rumors of bounty hunters chasing rogue disciples—those who had defected from sects or committed grievous crimes.
He wondered if his name was among them.
One evening, as he sat on a cliff overlooking a vast plain stretching southward, Jin allowed himself to think of the future again. He pulled out the crude map and traced a path with his finger. The three biggest sects in the south were: Stormfang Sect, the Jade Serpent Pavilion, and the Radiant Heart Hall.
Stormfang was known for speed, wind arts, and brutal entry trials.
Jade Serpent Pavilion focused on balance, elegance, and elemental harmony.
Radiant Heart Hall? Less was known about them. Rumors said they housed soul cultivators and illusionists.
Of the three, Jade Serpent felt most aligned with his growing affinities. But he needed to be cautious. Powerful sects had powerful enemies, and infiltrating such places could draw attention before he was ready.
He closed the map and looked up at the stars.
"I need strength… not just to survive. I need to become someone they can't touch."
The next day, his journey resumed. Birds chirped overhead, and the wind carried the scent of distant rivers. His steps were steady, fueled by a will hardened in solitude and betrayal. Jin knew he was still a long way from vengeance—but he was no longer the same helpless boy bleeding in the forest.
He was a cultivator now. Reborn.