The First Ember

The first light of dawn broke over the Luo Clan's crumbling training grounds. The air was thick with morning mist as Luo Zheng, bruised and sore, knelt on the cold stone floor. His arms burned from exhaustion, his legs still trembling from the battle with Luo Tian the night before. But despite the pain, his spirit remained unshaken.

Uncle Fu stood before him, hands clasped behind his back. His wrinkled face carried no sympathy, only expectation.

"You wish to grow stronger?" Uncle Fu's voice was steady. "Then you must be willing to break and rebuild yourself."

Luo Zheng took a deep breath and nodded.

"Then let's begin."

The first lesson was balance. Uncle Fu led Luo Zheng to the center of the training yard, where a row of narrow wooden posts stood in the ground. Some were cracked from years of neglect, but they still stood tall.

"You must learn to stabilize yourself before you can fight," Uncle Fu explained. "The Iron Root Stance is the foundation of all combat. Stand atop the post and maintain your balance. If you fall, you begin again."

Luo Zheng climbed onto the first post, his feet shifting uncertainly. The wooden surface felt unsteady beneath him. The first few minutes were easy—until his legs started to burn.

Then the wind blew.

His body wavered, and before he could correct himself, he slipped. His foot missed the edge, and he crashed onto the ground.

Again."

Luo Zheng clenched his fists and climbed back up.

He fell.

He climbed again.

By the tenth fall, his legs were shaking. Sweat dripped from his forehead. But he didn't stop.

After two hours, his body was nearly numb.

After four hours, he was barely holding on.

And when the sun finally reached its peak in the sky, Luo Zheng stood on the post, unmoving.

Uncle Fu nodded in approval. "Good. Now, the real training begins."

The next lesson was speed and agility.

Uncle Fu picked up a small, thin wooden plank and threw it toward Luo Zheng's head.

Luo Zheng barely ducked in time.

"Too slow," Uncle Fu said. "If that were a sword, you'd be dead."

He took a step forward—and then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

No, not gone.

He had moved so fast that Luo Zheng's eyes couldn't follow.

Uncle Fu reappeared behind him. "This is the Drifting Shadow Step. It allows you to move in unpredictable patterns, making it difficult for enemies to track your movements."

He gestured for Luo Zheng to try.

Luo Zheng took a step—too slow.

Uncle Fu struck him lightly on the shoulder with a wooden rod. "Again."

Step.

Strike.

Step.

Strike.

Every time Luo Zheng moved, Uncle Fu was already ahead of him, his strikes landing before Luo Zheng could react.

It was frustrating. His body felt heavy, and his mind was slow to adjust. But Luo Zheng refused to give up.

By the time the sun had begun to set, he could barely lift his legs. But something had changed. His movements were a little

smoother. His steps were a little quicker.

It wasn't much—but it was a start.

That evening, as Luo Zheng wiped the sweat from his forehead, he noticed a figure standing at the edge of the training ground.

A woman.

She was dressed in simple but elegant robes, her long black hair tied loosely behind her back. Though her presence was quiet, there was an unmistakable air of authority about her.

Uncle Fu turned toward her and bowed slightly.

"Su Ling Yun."

Luo Zheng blinked. Su Ling Yun? He had never heard this name before.

The woman's gaze briefly flickered toward Luo Zheng before shifting back to Uncle Fu. "So, this is the boy?"

Yes," Uncle Fu replied. "He has potential."

Su Ling Yun gave a small nod. "Interesting."

She said nothing more and turned to leave.

Luo Zheng wanted to ask who she was, but something in the way Uncle Fu watched her departure told him it wasn't time yet.That night, Luo Zheng lay on his back, staring up at the stars. His body was exhausted, his mind barely able to stay awake.

But just as his eyes began to close—

"...the shepherd will arrive at the end of an era..."

Luo Zheng's eyes snapped open.

That voice again.

He sat up quickly, looking around—but the courtyard was empty.

And then, for just a brief moment, a strange image filled his mind.

A vast river, flowing through a land he did not recognize. The wind howled over the water, and at its edge stood a young boy holding a crooked staff.

The image faded.

Luo Zheng exhaled sharply.

What was that? Who was that boy?

But the answers wouldn't come, and he was too exhausted to think any further.

With a deep breath, he lay back down.

Tomorrow, training would continue.

And soon, he would begin walking the true path of power.

The next morning, Luo Zheng stood at the edge of the Luo Clan's outer courtyard. His fists were wrapped in cloth, his body sore from yesterday's training. But today, he wasn't here to train.

He was here to get a weapon.

Uncle Fu had made it clear: "A warrior must wield a sword that is truly his own."

Luo Zheng wasn't allowed to use the clan's weapons. Luo Tian had made sure of that. So, if he wanted a sword, he would have to make one himself.

For that, he needed materials.

And the best place to find them was Blackstone Hill, a rocky outcrop just outside the Luo Clan's territory, where shards of black iron ore were scattered among the cliffs.

Luo Zheng set out at sunrise, his steps firm with determination.

By midday, Luo Zheng arrived at the hill, his eyes scanning the jagged rocks. Blackstone Hill was known for its rough terrain, but more importantly, it was a place where only the strong dared to collect materials.

As he searched for iron ore, he heard laughter nearby.

Luo Zheng turned and saw a small group of Luo Clan disciples standing at the base of the hill. He recognized them immediately—Luo Feng, Luo Chen, and Luo Ming, the sons of lesser elders.

They weren't the most powerful in the clan, but they were arrogant, spoiled, and they despised Luo Zheng.

Luo Feng sneered, stepping forward. "Well, well, look who we have here. Luo Zheng, the cripple, digging through rocks like a beggar."

Luo Chen grinned. "I heard he got beaten up by Luo Tian. Guess he still hasn't learned his lesson."

Luo Zheng ignored them and continued searching. He wasn't here to waste time.

But Luo Ming wasn't about to let him off so easily. He stepped in front of Luo Zheng, arms crossed. "You think you can just take whatever you want? This place belongs to the strong. You have no right to be here."

Luo Zheng's grip tightened around a piece of iron ore.

"Move."

Luo Feng laughed. "Or what? You'll fight us? Luo Tian already humiliated you once. Do you really want another beating?"

The three boys surrounded him. They weren't particularly strong, but they outnumbered him—and they had never seen Luo Zheng fight back before.

But today was different.

Today, he wasn't going to back down.

Luo Feng reached out to shove Luo Zheng—

But before he could touch him, Luo Zheng moved.

Drifting Shadow Step.

His body blurred as he sidestepped effortlessly, slipping past Luo Feng's reach. Before the boy could react, Luo Zheng drove his elbow into Luo Feng's stomach.

BAM!

Luo Feng staggered backward, gasping for air.

The others barely had time to react before Luo Zheng was already attacking.

Luo Chen lunged forward, aiming a punch at Luo Zheng's chest. Too slow.

Luo Zheng twisted his body, avoiding the blow, and smashed his fist into Luo Chen's ribs.

CRACK!

Luo Chen collapsed, groaning in pain.

Only Luo Ming was left. His face paled as he stumbled backward. "Y-you—!"

Luo Zheng stepped forward, his eyes calm but firm.

"Still think I don't belong here?"

Luo Ming turned and ran.

Luo Zheng exhaled, shaking his hand. His knuckles throbbed from the punches, but he had won.

Luo Zheng spent the next few hours collecting the best iron ore he could find.

By sunset, he had everything he needed. His first sword would be forged from these very stones.

As he walked back to the Luo Clan, his mind was clear.

He had fought back. He had defended himself.

And soon, he would have a blade to carve his own destiny.

By the time Luo Zheng returned to the Luo Clan, the sun had begun to set. His body ached from the fight, but his grip on the iron ore was firm. This would be the foundation of his sword.

He spread out the materials in his small courtyard:

Black Iron Ore – The main component for the sword's body, known for its balance between durability and weight.

Starfire Stone – A rare mineral that retains heat, necessary for refining.

Silver Jade Dust – Used to coat the blade, enhancing its sharpness and reducing friction.

Luo Zheng stared at them, feeling a strange sense of excitement. I'll finally have my own weapon.

But there was just one problem.

He had no idea how to refine a sword.

Luo Zheng had never been allowed near the Luo Clan's Weapon Pavilion, where blacksmiths studied the art of refining. His status as a mere servant meant he never had access to such knowledge.

I'll just buy a refining manual, he decided.

With that, he made his way toward the Luo Clan's Market Hall, where merchants sold various books and techniques.

Inside, he found a dusty old stall run by an elderly man with a long white beard. The books stacked around him were basic manuals, nothing too advanced, but for Luo Zheng, they were a treasure trove of lost knowledge.

How much for a basic weapon refining book?" Luo Zheng asked.

The old man raised an eyebrow. "The cheapest one? 300 Soul Coins."

Luo Zheng's expression stiffened. He reached into his pocket and counted his remaining Soul Coins. 128.

"I… don't have enough."

The old man shrugged. "No money, no book."

Luo Zheng clenched his fists.

He had been so focused on training, on fighting, that he never considered the price of knowledge.

There has to be another way…"

Then, a thought struck him. The Luo Clan had many old storage rooms filled with forgotten things. Maybe, just maybe, an old refining book was lying around somewhere.

Late that night, Luo Zheng crept through the abandoned records hall of the Luo Clan. Dust covered the wooden shelves, and broken scrolls lay scattered across the floor.

After an hour of searching, he found it.

A book covered in thick dust, its leather cover cracked with age.

Its title?

"Introduction to Mortal-Grade Refining"

Luo Zheng's heart pounded as he opened it. The ink was faded, and some pages were torn, but the basics of refining were still readable.

He rushed back to his courtyard, lit a candle, and began to read.

According to the book, refining a weapon required three steps:

Smelting the Base Metal – Heating the ore to separate impurities.

Molding the Blade – Shaping the molten metal into a sword's form.

Tempering & Infusion – Cooling and strengthening the blade with a refining technique.

Luo Zheng immediately started the first step.

He built a small furnace using clay and stone. Then, he placed the Black Iron Ore inside and used the Starfire Stone to ignite the flames.

The fire roared to life, and the metal slowly began to melt.

Luo Zheng grinned. It's working!

He grabbed a wooden pole and stirred the molten metal, watching as impurities rose to the surface. He carefully scooped them out with a ladle, just as the book instructed.

Once the metal was pure, he poured it into a stone mold shaped like a sword.

This was the most crucial part. If the metal cooled incorrectly, the sword would shatter.

Luo Zheng waited, excitement filling his chest.

But then—

CRACK!

The metal broke apart.

Luo Zheng's eyes widened. What happened?!

He quickly flipped through the book and realized his mistake.

"Without proper control of flame intensity, the metal will not bond correctly."

He had heated the ore too much, causing it to become brittle.

Luo Zheng let out a slow breath, his hands shaking. He had failed.

The broken metal lay before him, a reminder of his lack of knowledge.

Luo Zheng clenched his fists.

I need to learn more. I can't just swing a sword—I have to understand it, control it, create it.

With that thought, he grabbed the old book and turned the page.

This was only the beginning.