In a dark room, a pair of green eyes snapped open. They were identical to Kael’s.
The owner of those eyes bore a striking resemblance to the young man, save for two differences. His skin was even paler than Kael’s, and the package hidden within his pants was far less impressive.
His name was Luke Ashen, father of Kael Ashen and current husband of Selene Ashen, though the two hadn’t shared any intimacy in years.
Slowly, Luke sat up, a strange light flickering within his gaze.
An odd sensation rippled through his Dantian, as though something had been torn out from within him.
He pressed a palm to his lower abdomen, his brow furrowing in the darkness.
For ten long years, he had been preparing himself to reach the Spiritual Transformation Realm.
Such an achievement would have made him the fifth cultivator of that realm within the sect, second only to his ancestor, who stood in the Mortal Tribulation Realm.
Strangely, however, it seemed he had taken a step backward.
But how could that be possible?
After all, he had been one of the sect’s most dazzling talents of the past hundred years!
Shaking his head to push the thoughts aside, Luke rose from the bed and left the room.
He strode through the luxurious hall with firm steps, his clothes slipping from his body as he walked. They fell to the floor piece by piece, revealing the small, ugly, wrinkled worm that dangled limply between his legs.
"Don’t admire your master too much. Come on, prepare my bath!" Luke barked at the two maids waiting by the door, their heads bowed low in reverence.
"Yes, Master!" they answered in unison, hurrying toward the bathroom with quick, light steps.
Soon enough, they had filled the tub with steaming water. Kneeling at its edge, they dipped their fingertips beneath the surface to test the temperature, again and again, until they were certain it was perfect.
A satisfied smile tugged at Luke’s lips as he followed at a slow pace, his gaze lingering on the plump backsides the two maids pushed out as they bent over the rim.
Then he stepped into the hot water.
A sigh escaped him as the heat sank into his muscles and the steam curled lazily around his frame.
"Would you like to hear the news about your son, Master?" one of the maids asked in a low voice, her eyes still fixed on the floor.
"Ugh... that damn good-for-nothing?" Luke spat, his face twisting with contempt. "Just tell me he’s dead and I’ll be happy."
How dare that unfilial son disgrace his name with such a pathetic existence?
Luke would have killed the boy personally long ago, if not for that slut he’d taken as his wife.
He had married her right after killing Kael’s mother in a fit of rage, all because the woman had refused him sex shortly after giving birth.
"Master, he was poisoned by a Diamond-Eyed Scorpion, but not only did he survive, he also managed to awaken his spiritual roots!"
Upon hearing that, Luke froze for a moment, his eyes widening. Then laughter burst from his throat, hearty and cruel, water sloshing over the rim of the tub as his shoulders shook.
"Ah... it won’t be long before his cousins want him dead, hahaha. I want to see that with my own eyes."
***
Unaware of the thoughts running through the mind of the man who had fathered this body, Kael walked through the spacious, empty backyard of the pavilion, the Golden Spear of the Southern Dragon Emperor held firmly in his grip.
The tip of the weapon nearly scraped the ground as he adjusted his hold, settling the shaft into a comfortable position between his arms.
In the courtyard stood a small stone platform, no larger than five hundred square meters.
It was his private training arena.
Well, a waste of a private arena, as many liked to call it.
If not for Selene’s presence, which kept anyone from entering his pavilion without permission, the other disciples would likely have stripped him of everything by now.
They had already stolen his spots in secret realms, along with every sect reward that wasn’t tied to his status as an Heir Disciple.
Not that he could really complain, since this body was, in fact, crippled.
"Ah... I miss the internet..." Kael muttered, gazing up at the black sky, lit only by the bright, enormous moon hanging in the firmament.
He couldn’t deny the slight pang of withdrawal at the absence of shorts to doomscroll through for hours on end.
Still, he knew the feeling wouldn’t last long.
Once he reached the Realm of Foundation, his mind would grow strong enough that a single thought could banish all this nonsense.
Smiling to himself, Kael tightened his grip on the spear and began running through the many forms of the Spear Art of the Seven Flaming Claws.
He channeled no Qi, merely sweeping the weapon in swift cuts and powerful strikes, the golden shaft whistling through the cool night air.
Every two movements, he shifted his stance, feet scraping across the stone, adapting as though a real enemy stood before him.
It was a training method he had gleaned from the experiences stolen from Luke Ashen, a way to practice the forms and adapt to them faster.
Sweat soon beaded on his brow and his shoulders burned from the weight of the spear, but he didn’t stop.
To many, Kael might have been nothing more than an irresponsible homewrecker.
But that was merely his side hobby.
Deep down, he was passionate about cultivation novels and, naturally, wanted to become strong.
That way, he could more easily farm aura off his enemies and scatter green hats all across the skies.
With a broad smile, Kael kept up this routine every day while his stepmother attended to matters at the sect’s main palace.
Fortunately, plenty of maids were at his disposal, and no one dared disturb him.
At the end of a long training session, Selene finally returned from the main palace. It was the very day the waiting period to steal talents with her came to an end.
Kael lowered the spear and wiped the sweat from his brow, a grin spreading across his face as he watched her cross the courtyard toward him, her full hips swaying gently with every step.