Rain veiled the sky, casting a misty curtain over the city of Yuncheng in Zhuozhou. Deep inside the territory of the Foster Clan, a small, shabby hut stood quietly.

In front of the hut, a teenage boy sat silent on a large rock, letting the drizzle soak his thin body. His face, though young, carried a hint of sharpness, but his eyes were locked in thought. The faded robes he wore still faintly showed traces of glory from the past.

His name was Brad Foster, fifteen this year. His mother had died early, and his father, Richard Foster, was once the clan leader. As Richard’s son, Brad had been the young heir—a genius since childhood, praised by all.

But two years ago, his father left with several elders on a mission and never returned. Rumors claimed they were ambushed and killed by enemies.

According to clan rules, Brad should’ve succeeded as the new head. But overnight, half of his spirit channels were mysteriously blocked. Despite the clan's best efforts, nothing could restore them, leaving his cultivation stuck at Spirit Warrior – Stage One.

A blocked meridian meant no progress in cultivation—and no future. The position of clan leader went to his uncle, Nathaniel Foster.

At first, Nathaniel treated him decently. But as time passed, that kindness faded. Eventually, Brad was thrown into this run-down hut on the edge of the estate. No one showed any sympathy. A boy stuck at Stage One, in their eyes, was waste.

Some even took pleasure in his fall. Taunts and humiliations became a daily thing. Among them was Liam Foster, a boy Brad's age with Spirit Warrior – Stage Two strength. When Richard was alive, Liam used to trail Brad like a shadow. Now, Liam's mockery was sharp and constant.

But Brad didn't flare up. He kept silent. He understood too well—his blocked meridians started after taking a spiritual pill Nathaniel gave him. He suspected Nathaniel's hand in both his own downfall and his father's disappearance. But he couldn’t speak out. No one would believe him. Worse, it might get him killed.

Brad knew Nathaniel would come for him sooner or later. So he kept training in secret, desperately—but with blocked meridians, progress was slow. Other boys his age had all reached Stage Two or even higher.

"Brad, I’ve been looking for you. Hah, makes sense you'd be hiding here. Where else could a Stage One failure like you go?" said a sneering voice.

It was Liam Foster. He stood tall and smug, his voice dripping with disdain.

Brad didn’t answer. He was used to this.

"I’ve got two things for you. First—remember your fiancée, Sophia Crawford? She’s officially broken off the engagement. She’s marrying Bertrand Foster, our new young clan leader."

Liam watched his face closely, waiting to see a crack. Sophia, the Crawford Clan prodigy, had been betrothed to Brad since they were kids. And now, like everything else, she was gone too.Brad Foster had long suspected something, but never expected Sophia Crawford to end up marrying Bertrand Foster, Nathaniel’s son.

Much of the bullying he'd suffered came down to Bertrand. Brad was once the heir—now Bertrand held that title. Maybe the mockery was just Bertrand flaunting power. Maybe he wanted Brad gone altogether.

Brad stayed silent. Liam Foster grew impatient and snapped, “Second thing—you better listen up. Ten days from now, Dragon Abyss Sect will be sending people here. Anyone fifteen or older can sign up. You should get ready.”

Then Liam gave a sly grin and added, “You're trash, but the formalities still apply. You’re going to take that test. If you fail, you're out of the Foster clan. And here's a heads-up—they only take those at Spirit Martial Tier Three. You? Don’t even bother hoping.” With that, he laughed and walked off.

Brad knew full well—what kept him safe all these years was staying inside the clan. Nathaniel hadn't had a chance to act. But if he were thrown out and with only Spirit Martial One's power? He wouldn’t last a day. Nathaniel would come for him.

And deep down, Brad was certain—his father’s disappearance, and that of the elders, had Nathaniel written all over it.

His fist slammed into the stone beside him. Blood oozed from his knuckles. “Someday, I’ll dig out the truth... and take everything back.”

He wiped his eyes with a trembling hand. Blood streaked down his face, dripping onto the jade pendant at his neck—the one his father, Richard Foster, had given him as a child and told him never to remove.

Then something strange happened.

The pendant glowed faint red. Wisps of crimson mist rose from it, then surged through his skin into his body.

Inside him, Brad's blocked meridians trembled. The red mist battered through the clogs with searing pain. He gritted his teeth but soon blacked out.

By the time he came to, night had fallen. He’d been out for hours. Groggy but alert, he looked inward—and what he saw shook him.

His meridians were completely cleared. Energy flowed through him again. But that wasn’t all.

His cultivation had jumped. He wasn't at Spirit Martial One anymore. He now stood at Spirit Martial Two.

Spirit Martial One—refining breath, building the body.

Spirit Martial Two—forming the energy sea, circulating power.

Spirit Martial Three—projecting energy outward, doubling strength.

Brad focused. His energy sea had formed. No doubt—he was at Tier Two.

But something puzzled him. In the middle of that sea, a red orb lay dormant. The same shade as the pendant. Somehow, the jade had become this bead.

That pendant—his father’s gift—had always been mysterious. Richard never explained what it was, just told him never to take it off.

Now, Brad had power. Not enough, though—not for the test. He needed to reach Tier Three. And in just a few days?

That was going to be hell.