The majestic gates of the Clear Water Sect carved a grand silhouette against the morning sky, nested deep within the misty peaks of the Azure Cloud mountain range. Built from ancient, Qi-infused marble, the sect was a symbol of absolute authority over the surrounding lands. Thousands of young men and women fought bitterly every year just for a chance to wear the midnight-blue robes of an outer disciple.
But as the sun began to peek over the horizon, the guards at the main gate did not see a proud, ascending cultivator approaching.
They saw a ghost.
Wang Chen dragged his left foot across the polished stone steps, his body bent nearly double. His left arm hung completely limp at his side, wrapped in charred, filthy rags that leaked an off-white, foul-smelling fluid. His right hand clutched a broken piece of wood he was using as a crutch. His eyes, once bright with the arrogance of a Stage 4 cultivator, were hollow, bloodshot, and rimmed with dark, bruised circles.
"Who goes there?" a gate guard barked, lowering a gleaming halberd. He peered closer, his nose wrinkling in disgust at the smell of burnt flesh. "Wait... Wang Chen? Is that you?"
Wang Chen didn't answer. He couldn't. Every breath felt like swallowing shards of jagged glass. He merely stumbled past the guard, collapsing into the dirt just inside the sect's outer courtyard.
Within an hour, he was lying on a cold wooden table inside the Outer Sect Infirmary.
Elder Mo, a stern man with white streaks in his hair and an aura that radiated the immense pressure of the Qi Condensation realm, stood over him. He pressed two fingers against Wang Chen's right wrist, sending a thread of his own spiritual energy into the boy's body to diagnose the damage.
A moment later, Elder Mo recoiled, his face twisting into a mask of pure horror.
"Impossible," the Elder muttered, taking a step back. "Your cardiovascular network... your meridians... they are completely melted. It looks like the aftermath of a failed breakthrough into the Core Formation realm, but you were only a physical body refiner!"
"Elder..." Wang Chen croaked, his voice sounding like dry sandpaper. Tears of sheer despair leaked from his eyes. "My... my cultivation..."
"Gone," Elder Mo said brutally, showing none of the soft sympathy a mortal doctor might have. "Your blood has cooled. The impurities have rushed back into your system. You have regressed to Stage 2: Bone Tempering, and because your pathways are scarred by this mysterious fire, you will never be able to refine your blood again. You are a cripple, Wang Chen."
The words struck harder than any physical blow. In a cultivation sect, a cripple was lower than dirt. He would be stripped of his midnight-blue robes, evicted from his private quarters, and relegated to a life of hard manual labor as a sect slave. All his dreams of immortality, power, and status were obliterated.
"Tell me what happened," Elder Mo demanded, his eyes narrowing with a dangerous curiosity. "What kind of beast or rogue cultivator did this to you? There are no records of an outer beast possessing a flame that can bypass a Stage 4 physique and burn the soul itself."
Wang Chen’s entire body began to tremble violently. The mere memory of those glowing, intelligent eyes in the weeping willow tree triggered a wave of primal terror that made his teeth chatter.
"A... a fox," Wang Chen whimpered, clutching his head with his one good hand. "A tiny, pure-white spirit fox... I tried to tame it. I used the Beast-Binding Sigil... but the moment it touched her... Heaven itself fell upon me. The fire... it wasn't a beast's flame, Elder! It was a god's wrath! It burned my soul!"
Elder Mo stared at the hysterical boy, his expression shifting from shock to deep skepticism. A tiny fox wielding a soul-melting divine flame? It sounded like the delusions of a mind shattered by trauma.
"A white spirit fox," Elder Mo mused aloud, turning his back on the broken disciple. "If it is a mutation, its bloodline must be incredibly pure. Even if the boy is exaggerating the 'divine fire,' a beast that can cause this much internal damage through a simple taming backlash is an invaluable treasure."
Elder Mo waved his sleeve, dismissing the medical disciples. He didn't care about Wang Chen's ruined life. He only cared about the profit.
"Form a hunting squad of Stage 5 and Stage 6 outer disciples," Elder Mo commanded his subordinate in a low whisper. "Search the outer perimeter of the forest. If you find a pure-white fox, do not attempt to tame it with low-grade sigils. Subdue it by force, break its limbs if you must, and bring it back to me alive."