Inside his Soul Realm, Liam looked at his Astral Shadows. The Hunter, the Warrior, and the Magician. He felt a tightness in his chest. It was a goodbye. Even if they were just feelingless manifestations of entities from other planes, they had become an important part of who he was. A defining characteristic.
He took a deep breath, absorbing their image one last time, and opened his eyes in the real world. Elias stood before him, in silence. Liam faced him with conviction and nodded, ready for what was to come.
Elias put his hand in his pocket and took out a small object, which looked like a silver spinning top. The metal shimmered with an almost magical glow under the light of the room.
"What is that?" Liam asked, his voice full of curiosity.
"It's an ancient and rare device. It's capable of absorbing and storing soul fragments," Elias explained, his voice calm and serious.
"Right. But how is that going to help me get a Vestige?"
"Inside it are hundreds of soul fragments. I'm going to put you in there."
"What? I'm going to fit in that thing?"
"Yes." A brief answer.
"So I just go in and grab a soul fragment?"
"No. You have to find one that's compatible."
"Compatible how?"
"A fragment that your Soul Realm can assimilate. When you find the right Vestige, you'll feel a connection. Something that resonates with you."
"And how do I take a Vestige?"
"You'll find out. Don't worry about that part."
"Wait... are all the fragments in that thing from Awakened?"
"No."
Liam frowned. "So you're telling me I might end up only being compatible with a useless soul for me?"
"That risk exists," Elias replied without hesitation.
"And if this fails, can I get my Astral Shadows back?"
"Not in the short term."
A heavy silence fell between them. Liam's decision was made, but Elias's words brought a new layer of risk. He had trained his whole life to be a hunter, a warrior, a mage. Now, he was about to risk everything.
"Are you ready?" Elias asked.
Liam took a deep breath, the air filling his lungs, and nodded. "Yes."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course, I'm going to..."
His voice was interrupted by a sharp, cutting pain. Before he could react, he saw a dagger with a purple blade in his chest. Hot blood gushed out, running down his skin and soaking his shirt.
Confusion. Fear. Panic.
Why was his father doing that?
"Dad... Dad..." Liam murmured, his voice weak and scared. He fell to the floor, the world spinning. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. His arm was outstretched, trying to reach Elias, pleading for help. His vision blurred, the edges darkening. His strength abandoned him.
His thoughts became slow. His feelings, will, and desires, everything began to drain away. Liam was becoming empty. He felt his very essence fading away.
Then, Liam died.
Elias touched the device, making it glow and float in the air. Liam's body turned into thousands of particles of light, which were sucked into the small object.
***
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A young man was sleeping peacefully on a bed of rags in a small wooden house. The first ray of sun entered through the window and fell on his face, illuminating his black hair and the skin tanned by long years of working under the sun.
A small girl, his ten-year-old sister, Li Xiaoyun, approached him and poked his shoulder insistently.
"Brother... wake up! I'm hungry! Wake up!"
Her voice was thin, almost tearful.
At his sister's lament, Li Shen's gray eyes opened gradually. His eyelids, still heavy with sleep, lifted as he stared at the impatient Xiaoyun. Shen let out a long yawn, stretching his arms until he felt every muscle awaken.
"Calm down, I've woken up. Everything will be ready soon."
He got up and walked to the kitchen. The wooden floor creaked under his feet. He took the rice and dried fish he had prepared the night before. Then, he put some herbs inside an iron teapot and added water. He gathered some branches and kindling on the ground and, with two red stones, produced sparks that lit the fire. Using bricks and an iron grate as a stand, he heated his family's meal.
The smell of hot rice mixed with the smoke from the firewood made his stomach rumble in anticipation. Xiaoyun was leaning against the wall, biting her lip as she watched her brother's every move.
When everything was ready, he served the food in a small bowl and the drink in a wooden cup and handed her the chopsticks.
Next, Shen went to the third and last room in the house. He approached the bed of his mother, Li Meiling, whose skin seemed even paler under the soft morning light. He carefully washed her face with a damp cloth, feeling every fragile bone under her skin. Then he applied the remediesâtinctures and dried leavesâeven though he knew they weren't having much effect. Li Meiling tried to smile; her voice was almost a whisper:
"I feel better today, Shen... don't worry so much."
He returned with a weak smile. He was used to hearing those words, but her eyes always revealed a different reality. He tried to hide it, but the tension in his chest gave him away. His mother's frailty was a constant shadow, and the weight of responsibility seemed heavier than any log or basket of rice.
He was irritated; he had paid good money for those new medicines; the vendor had promised him they were different.
After feeding her, Shen went to get his own meal. With a full stomach, he swept the dirt floor, wiped, and lined up the utensils.
A slight tingling sensation ran through his arms. After a lot of practice, he could feel his Qi better, although it was still shy and unstable. The energy reacted subtly to his movements, pulsating in his body. Shen felt a little stronger when this strange energy flowed, as if it wanted to help him carry the weight of daily life.
Xiaoyun pinched his arm lightly, her eyes shining with expectation:
"Brother, is Mom better today?"
Shen knelt to be at her height and stroked her head with a forced half-smile:
"She's still weak, but stable." He wished he could believe his own lie. "I'm going to work. Take care of Mom and don't bother her too much."
He put on his "shoes," which were just a piece of wood with two ties, and left.
***
The forest near the village exuded the smell of moss, wood, and damp leaves. Each of Shen's steps on the moss-covered stone path required caution to not slip. He was carrying a heavy log on his shoulder, feeling the weight press down on his whole body.
Every morning, he helped Hua Fang, his lumberjack neighbor, in exchange for a few coins. Hua Fang was a robust, middle-aged man with keen eyes and calloused hands.
At some point while Shen was transporting the logs, he felt a bubbling heat inside him again. A mixture of surprise and joy filled his mind. It was as if something inside him was awakening, a strength he had not yet fully mastered, but that made his body stronger and more resilient.
Li Shen's dream was to become a Martial Artist, just as his father had been one day. He believed this would be the solution to all their financial problems. Unfortunately, he seemed to have not inherited his father's talent for cultivation: he was already 15 years old and had still not managed to awaken his Dantian.
After a few hours of work, Shen went to Hua Fang's house to receive his payment. The neighbor handed him the agreed-upon coins and, in addition, offered him a bag. When Shen looked inside, he found several fresh fruits. Fruits were very expensive in that region; he frowned and asked suspiciously:
"Why are you giving me something so expensive?"
"For your mother. I heard those fruits help improve health." Fang answered a little awkwardly.
Li Shen thanked him with a bow. Hua Fang was generous with him. Shen knew that his job as an assistant was more an act of kindness than of real necessity, since Fang was still strong and healthy. This, however, made him suspicious. In that world, nothing was free, and no one helped without ulterior motives.
***
In the early afternoon, Li Shen went to work at the village's rice plantation. The smell of wet earth mixed with that of green grains filled his nostrils. Each step sank his feet deep into the mud.
He pulled weeds and beat bundles of rice on the ground to loosen the grains. As he carried a heavy basket of freshly harvested rice on his shoulder, he spotted someone.
The man was tall, broad-shouldered, and his cold eyes scanned the workers as if they were mere disposable tools.
Yu Cheng, one of the thugs of Hao Zao, one of the most powerful men in the Red Gin Village. One of that miserable man's main sources of income was the extortion of money and resources from the residents and merchants.
"The boss is asking for a higher quota this time. I want to see more deliveries, or you'll have problems!" Yu Cheng shouted, forcefully slapping the face of the plantation chief to remind him who was in charge there.
Li Shen felt pity for the scene. To him, the chief was a greedy and mercenary bastard, but still an old man. It was impossible not to be outraged by that injustice, but Shen kept his head down. He didn't want to get into trouble with that kind of people.
He continued working hard until late afternoon.
When he went to receive the day's payment, he had an unpleasant surprise: he received only half the amount.
"This is ridiculous! I'm working for free for this amount!" he protested, annoyed.
The plantation chief's response came in the form of a slap.
"Look for another place to work if you're not satisfied!"