The Curse of Alathy

Wei Shirong stood alone in the quiet of the training grounds, the words of the EX system still echoing in his mind. The faint blue glow from his chest had faded, leaving him with more questions than answers. He knew he'd crossed some threshold, but the significance of it eluded him.

The sound of footsteps broke his reverie. Elder Zhou, a stern-faced man with a long, silver beard, approached with a scowl etched deeply into his features. His robes rustled like autumn leaves, and his eyes held a mixture of disappointment and exasperation.

"Still standing there, I see," Elder Zhou remarked, his voice as rough as sandpaper. "Three years, and not a single breakthrough. You're a disgrace to the Cloud Piercing Sect, Wei Shirong."

Wei Shirong turned to face the elder, his expression as neutral as ever. "I am doing my best, Elder Zhou."

Elder Zhou snorted. "Your best? Your best is not enough. You show no dedication, no passion. How can you hope to grasp the Way when you feel nothing?"

Wei Shirong remained silent. He had no response to give, no feelings to share. He was a void, a vessel without emotions. It was a curse he had come to accept, but it didn't make the elder's words any less stinging.

Elder Zhou shook his head, his disappointment palpable. "I had hoped for more from you, Wei Shirong. But it seems you are beyond hope. Perhaps it is time to consider other paths."

With that, the elder turned and walked away, leaving Wei Shirong alone once more. The training grounds felt colder, the wind harsher. But Wei Shirong stood unmoving, his gaze fixed on the stone tablet.

A soft sigh escaped his lips, a rare outward sign of his inner turmoil. He knew he was different, that something inside him was broken. He felt no joy, no sorrow, no anger. The world around him was a grey, lifeless landscape devoid of color and warmth.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of laughter. A group of disciples, led by a tall, arrogant youth named Li Hao, approached. Li Hao was the sect's golden child, beloved by the elders and admired by his peers. He was everything Wei Shirong was not.

"Look, it's the stone statue," Li Hao jeered, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Still wasting your time, I see. Why don't you give up and save us all the trouble?"

Wei Shirong didn't respond, his gaze never leaving the stone tablet. His indifference only served to fuel Li Hao's anger.

"You think you're better than us, don't you?" Li Hao sneered. "You think you're above us all. But you're nothing, Wei Shirong. A worthless piece of trash."

The other disciples laughed, their voices echoing off the stone walls. Wei Shirong felt a flicker of something within him, a spark of defiance. It was a rare emotion, a glimpse of life in his otherwise barren heart.

"Leave him alone, Li Hao," a soft voice interjected. A young woman with gentle eyes and a kind smile stepped forward. Her name was Meng Yao, and she was one of the few disciples who treated Wei Shirong with kindness.

"You're not helping him by defending him, Meng Yao," Li Hao retorted. "He needs to face reality. He's a failure, and he'll always be a failure."

Meng Yao's eyes flashed with anger. "You're the one who needs to face reality, Li Hao. You're not as great as you think you are. And Wei Shirong is not the failure you make him out to be."

Li Hao scoffed, his face darkening with rage. "You'll regret those words, Meng Yao. Mark my words, Wei Shirong will never amount to anything. He's a dead end, a waste of space."

With that, Li Hao and his followers walked away, their laughter fading into the distance. Meng Yao turned to Wei Shirong, her eyes filled with concern.

"Are you alright, Wei Shirong?" she asked, her voice soft and gentle.

Wei Shirong nodded, his expression unchanged. "I am fine, Meng Yao. Thank you for your concern."

Meng Yao sighed, a look of sadness crossing her features. "You don't have to be so distant, Wei Shirong. You can talk to me, you know. I'm here for you."

Wei Shirong hesitated, a rare moment of vulnerability. He wanted to open up, to share his burdens with someone. But the words caught in his throat, trapped by the weight of his apathy.

"Thank you, Meng Yao," he said finally, his voice devoid of emotion. "But I am fine. I have the EX system now. Things will be different."

Meng Yao's eyes widened in surprise. "The EX system? What is that?"

Wei Shirong paused, uncertain how to explain. "It is a... a tool. A guide. It will help me grow stronger, become better."

Meng Yao looked intrigued, but Wei Shirong held up a hand, forestalling her questions. "I cannot explain more. Not yet. But I promise, I will make things different. I will show them all."

Meng Yao nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "I believe in you, Wei Shirong. I always have."

Wei Shirong felt a warmth spread through him at her words, a faint echo of the emotions he yearned to feel. He watched as Meng Yao walked away, her figure disappearing into the distance.

Alone once more, Wei Shirong turned his attention back to the stone tablet. He knew he had a long road ahead of him, a journey filled with uncertainty and danger. But for the first time in his life, he felt a glimmer of hope, a spark of determination.

He would unlock the secrets of the EX system. He would grow stronger, become better. And he would show them all.

**[EX System Update]**

The words materialized before his eyes, crisp and clear against the backdrop of the ancient stone tablet. Wei Shirong read them carefully, his heart pounding with anticipation.

**[User has successfully initiated the EX System.]**

**[Current Level: 1]**

**[Available Points: 0]**

**[Next Level: 100 EXP]**

Wei Shirong felt a surge of excitement, a rare emotion that stirred within him like a dormant beast awakening. He knew he had a long way to go, a journey filled with challenges and obstacles. But he was ready.

He would unlock the secrets of the EX system. He would grow stronger, become better. And he would show them all.

With renewed determination, Wei Shirong began to cultivate, his focus unwavering, his resolve unbreakable. The wind howled around him, the dust devils danced, but he stood unmoving, a statue carved from stone, a beacon of unyielding will.

And so, his journey began. A journey of growth, of transformation, of rising from the ashes of his past to become something more. A journey that would span two thousand chapters, filled with trials and triumphs, friendships and betrayals, love and loss.

But for now, Wei Shirong stood alone, a lone figure in the desolate training grounds, his gaze fixed on the weathered stone tablet, his heart filled with the fire of determination.

And the world waited, holding its breath, unaware of the storm that was about to be unleashed.