The slums of Roza City sprawled like festering wound across the landscape, a twisted maze of broken stone and rusted iron that stood in stark contrast to the sigeur clan's grandeur. While their obsidian spires pierced the heart of Liyue like gleaming daggers,reaching towards the heavens in architectural triumph,the city they ruled-Liyue's most wretched-rotted beneath their iron grip.The Sigeur clan hoarded Roza's wealth with the greed of carrion birds,their coffers swelling while their subjects withered in the shadows of their towers. Every golden coin that filled their vaults was wrung from the blood and bone of those who dared not speak against them.
The people crushed themselves into silence,their voices stolen by fear. None possessed the courage to defy the clan,those faithful servants of eclipse order whose shadow stretched across the planet like the wings of the malevolent god.Kai's stomach churned with bitter regret at ever bearing their cursed name.Six years chained in darkness had taught him to despise every syllable of it.
He was no longer Kai Sigeur.That name had died in the basement's depths.Now he was Kai the Forsaken.a soul without clan or master,carrying within his core a void-black wisp that pulsed with the rhythm of damnation itself.The All-devouring Clock's relentless hum echoed the same defiant surge he'd felt at ten years old,when his Early-stage soul initiate essense had been revealed to the world's scorn and again in that otherworldly space where he'd tamed something beyond comprehension. Now, as a Mid-stage soul initiate, that pulsed remained his only companion-spark of rebellion in a city that devoured the weak like a starving beast.
Kai's frame had been carved lean by six years of torment, his flesh stretched tight over sharp bones. He moved through Roza's shadowed alleys like a wraith, his tattered rags offering no protection against the sea's cruel bite. His soul essence had transformed into something unrecognizable—where normal cultivators bore golden wisps that danced with life, his had become a colorless void, an emptiness so complete it seemed to swallow light itself. Only his body, through some miracle of resilience, remained unmarked by his essence's hunger. What manner of entity had he encountered in that strange realm between worlds?
Before his imprisonment, he'd haunted the Sigeur library's lower levels like a man possessed, consuming every tome on essence mastery and soul cultivation. Not one ancient text spoke of void-black wisps or clocks that devoured all they touched. The third level, that sanctuary reserved for Soul Masters and their betters, had remained forever beyond his reach. If only he'd gained access to those forbidden shelves, perhaps answers would have revealed themselves.
Pale glows cut through the oppressive gloom—essence lanterns, those marvels of brass and crystal whose cores sparked to life when touched by soul essence. Such devices were scarce in Roza's decay, hoarded by the Sigeur clan like precious gems. Kai pressed himself against a heap of twisted metal, watching a scavenger's weathered fingers adjust a lantern's settings. The dim light carved harsh lines across the man's scarred face, each mark a testament to survival in this forsaken place.
These gadgets, powered by the very force that flowed through cultivators' veins, served as symbols of the Sigeur clan's Eclipse-backed dominance. Kai's chest constricted with remembered shame—his soul essence had failed to ignite even the simplest lantern during his coming-of-age ceremony, a humiliation that had driven him to cast away their name like poisoned bread. Could his void wisp, channeled through the mental fortitude he'd forged in darkness, breathe life into such devices... or would it consume them utterly?
Elyse's tear-streaked face haunted his every waking moment, her sacrifice burning in his memory like a brand. She had freed him with a soul-key, one of those precious gadgets capable of unlocking essence-sealed chains, her fingers trembling as she whispered,
"Run, Kai."
She had defied everything—her status as the clan's favored daughter, the Sigeur family's greatest pride—to give him this chance. Guilt clawed at his insides like a living thing. Lysara's wrath would be terrible, perhaps even Alfred's cold fury would stir, and both would fall upon Elyse like hammers upon an anvil. But the clock's persistent hum, its shadowy hands marking time in his spiritual space, drove him forward step by bloody step. He would survive this trial, prove his worth—not for the clan he'd abandoned, but for her, and for the boy who had endured six years of darkness without breaking.
A sharp clank shattered his concentration like glass. Three figures emerged from the maze of debris, their soul-blades humming with deadly purpose. The weapons were things of beauty and terror—brass grips that seemed to pulse with their own heartbeat, crystal edges that sang with captured soul essence. Sigeur enforcers, sent like hunting hounds to drag him back to his cage.
Their leader was a grizzled veteran, an Early-stage Soul Master whose soul clock flickered faintly in the depths of his core. He clutched an essence communicator that pulsed with trapped wisps like a heart full of lightning. "Find the runaway," he growled, his soul-blade casting crimson shadows that danced like blood on water. "Lysara's gadget marks the clanless whelp close by."
Kai's breath caught in his throat like a stone. Even as Kai the Forsaken, Lysara's communicator had found him, its invisible threads wrapped around his essence like a spider's web.
As he crouched lower, preparing to flee, Roza's brutal hierarchy flashed through his mind like scenes from a nightmare. The Soul Clock System bound every cultivator in Livue with chains stronger than iron. At ten years of age, the coming-of-age ceremony measured one's soul power, dividing the world into twenty-four ranks that determined destiny itself. Those cursed with weaker soul power found their potential capped like a well with a stone lid, while the blessed rose like eagles on thermal winds. Only when one's soul clock completed its full cycle could they shatter the barriers and ascend to the next level.
True strength flowed from soul mastery—the art of channeling essence with skill that bordered on divine. Only through relentless improvement of one's soul essence mastery could a cultivator grow in power. High ranks meant nothing without the discipline to back them—some Rank 8 cultivators, despite their advantageous positions, remained weak as newborn kittens for neglecting their training. Kai's essence, channeled through mental strength honed in isolation's crucible, required no physical refinement. His resilient body withstood its hunger like stone against the tide. Elyse's level 12 soul essence blazed like a star, while Kai's level 1 soul essence flickered like a dying candle—yet his All-Devouring Clock defied every natural law, a secret burning in his clanless heart. The pulse surged again, carrying that same defiant feeling from six years past, whispering promises of power.
Among the scattered refuse, Kai spotted a broken essence communicator—a low-grade gadget with crystal cracked like a spider's web. His essence brushed against it with the gentleness of a lover's touch, sparking a dark shimmer that lasted mere heartbeats before the crystal shattered completely, overwhelmed by forces beyond its design.
The thugs spun toward the sound like wolves scenting blood, their blades raised in perfect unison. Panic threatened to drown Kai's thoughts, but the clock's steady hum anchored him to purpose. The pulse whispered of new possibilities, of edges sharper than any blade. Focusing his will, the All-Devouring Clock's hands began to tick faster, their rhythm matching his racing heart. His essence coiled like a serpent made of living shadow, a tendril that devoured light itself. He aimed it at the leader's soul-blade with surgical precision, willing it to unravel the very bonds that held the weapon together.
The blade's crystal core dimmed like a dying star, its carefully woven essence coming apart like rotted rope. The leader cursed with words that would make sailors blush, dropping the weapon as if it had caught fire. The brass hilt rang against stone with the finality of a funeral bell.
"What manner of cursed wisp do you wield, you clanless dog?"
Kai bolted before the words finished leaving the man's lips. The alleys blurred past him in a chaos of shadow and stone. Essence lanterns flickered wildly in his wake, their cores recoiling from his soul essence like children from a monster, casting wild shadows that danced and writhed with lives of their own.
"Liyue's Soul Clock System ruled over ranks and gadgets with absolute authority, but his All-Devouring Clock spat in the face of such order. It was a secret that no one in Roza, a city bereft of Soul Emperors, could hope to comprehend. The Void Flower's mystery, bound to his clock by threads invisible, belonged to him alone.
He ducked into a derelict shack whose roof had collapsed like a broken dream. A rusted soul forge dominated the space—a machine that demanded a Mid Soul Master's wisp to function—its brass gears frozen in eternal stillness. Kai slumped against its cold bulk, his breathing ragged as a beggar's coat. The pulse burned within him like liquid fire—Elyse's sacrifice, his vow to match her level 12 soul essence as Kai the Forsaken, fed the flames of his determination.
He had forsaken the Sigeur name, but never his defiance. His void wisp could disrupt their precious gadgets, perhaps even their soul forges—a rebellion born from Roza's ashes like a phoenix of shadow and hunger. His fingers closed around the hilt of a cracked soul-blade, its crystal pulsing faintly with trapped essence. Channeling his power, the core sparked with dark, unstable shimmer, drinking the ambient essence like a man dying of thirst."
"Kai's pulse quickened with anticipation—he had successfully channeled his essence into the weapon. Now all that remained was to wait for his prey to find him.
Footsteps crunched against debris outside, the enforcers' red glows piercing the shack's gaps like searching eyes. Resentment flared within him like oil on flame—Lysara's cruelty, Mara's vicious kicks, Alfred's damning silence, the Sigeur name he had spat upon like poison. The core pulsed in response, shaping itself into a jagged, dark blade that hungered for violence.
The door splintered like kindling. The Early-stage Soul Master charged through the breach, his soul-blade blazing with golden wisps of mastered essence. Kai swung his void-blade with desperate strength, but the veteran parried with practiced ease, his crystal edge opening Kai's arm like a flower blooming red. Pain seared through him like lightning, his essence faltering as blood painted the floor. The other enforcers closed in like wolves on wounded prey, their blades humming death songs. Kai stumbled backward, his makeshift weapon flickering like a candle in wind, his novice mastery too raw to maintain under pressure."
"The Early Soul Master's grin was a
slash of white in the darkness. 'What a
pity that you are merely an initiate, yet
you think you can escape. Die, boy.'
A blur of motion surged from the
shadows like death given form. A
figure clad in midnight black appeared
as if conjured from the void itself,
wielding twin soul-daggers that
gleamed with golden essence. The
weapons marked their bearer as a
peak-stage Soul Master, their mastery
evident in every fluid movement. The
mysterious warrior moved like a storm
given human shape, their daggers
dancing through the air with lethal
grace.
The blades shattered the Early Soul
Master's weapon and carved through
the others' crystals with surgical
precision. The leader swung
desperately, but the figure spun like a
dancer, their dagger opening his chest
and disrupting the flow of his essence
in one perfect motion. The enforcers
collapsed as if their strings had been
cut, groaning in the growing pool of
their own blood.
Kai stared in awe, his own blood still
dripping, his void-blade dissolved into
nothingness. The figure's mask—brass
etched with essence runes that seemed
to shift in the dim light—caught the
reflected glow of dying soul-blades.
Silver hair flowed like liquid
moonlight, the only feature visible
beneath their concealment."
"Before Kai could form words, the figure leaped to the roof with impossible grace and vanished into the night, leaving no trace of wisp or essence behind. The slums fell silent as a tomb, as if the very air had been swallowed by an endless void.
Kai's heart hammered against his ribs like a caged bird, awe and defiance warring in his chest. The stranger's daggers, their soul essence wielded with unmatched mastery, could have rivaled any warrior in Roza. The pulse flared within him, his Mid Soul Initiate wisp burning with renewed purpose. He was Kai the Forsaken, a clanless spark forging his own path through darkness and blood.
A faint tick echoed through the silence—not from his clock, but from some hidden essence gadget buried in the scrap. The device stirred as if awakened by his void wisp's presence, resonating with frequencies that had never touched its crystal core before. His arm throbbed with each heartbeat, but he had survived the night. A stranger's blade had saved him, but questions multiplied like shadows at sunset.
Had his power awakened something beyond Roza's borders, something connected to that otherworldly space and its lingering mysteries? The All-Devouring Clock's hands continued their relentless march, marking time until the next trial, the next chance to prove that even the forsaken could rise from ashes to claim the sky."