Chapter 3 The Broken Spirit

Silas Thorne reached out slowly, his hand trembling slightly as it approached the spirit stone. His eyes were focused, his face filled with tension. He whispered to himself, barely audible, "I hope my guess is right."

The moment his fingertips touched the surface of the spirit stone, a gentle warmth spread through his hand. It was a comforting heat, soft and steady. He carefully lifted the stone, cradling it in his palm. The warmth became stronger. Yet... nothing happened.

No glow. No light. No sign of a spiritual root.

The stone stayed dull and lifeless, its cracked surface showing no change.

Across the courtyard, Damien Thorne crossed his arms and scoffed. "Waste is waste," he said with cold eyes, not bothering to hide his contempt.

Silas's heart sank. He stared at the spirit stone, still holding it tightly. His hand started to tremble harder. A weak smile formed on his lips, bitter and hollow.

Was I wrong? Is this really the end...?

He felt a deep sadness rise from inside. The hope he'd clung to was slipping through his fingers like sand. For a moment, he just stood there, motionless, staring at the stone.

But then, just as he was about to give up, something changed.

A voice cried out behind him.

"Wait... it's glowing! The spirit stone is glowing!"

The young boy who shouted sounded shocked, almost disbelieving. Gasps and murmurs swept through the crowd.

Silas looked down quickly. His eyes widened.

The spirit stone-still sitting in his palm-had begun to glow faintly. A soft shimmer spread from its cracks, like ripples in a pond. The dull grey surface slowly came alive with flowing light, like water trickling over stone. Then-

"Snort!" A sudden sound came from the stone, like a match lighting in damp air.

The spirit stone trembled violently in his hand. Silas didn't have time to react.

"Bang!"

A small puff of grey smoke shot up into the air. The spirit stone shattered with a sharp crack, breaking into several pieces that slipped through his fingers and scattered onto the ground.

Silas stood there, stunned, staring at the broken fragments. All around him, everyone had gone quiet.

Lucas North, the experienced cultivator who had been testing the spiritual roots, was completely speechless. He had seen many things in his life, but this was new-even for him. In all his years of guiding new disciples, he had never seen a spirit stone break during a test. Never.

"That... that shouldn't even be possible," Lucas muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "He... he broke the stone?"

But the stone had glowed before it shattered, and that was what mattered. The result was clear-Silas had a spiritual root. A rare one, too, to break the stone.

Lucas's eyes lit up with excitement. He burst into laughter, unable to contain his joy. With a wave of his sleeves, his body lifted into the air, vanishing like a rainbow streaking across the sky.

"Get ready, all three of you," his voice echoed from the sky. "I'm picking you up tomorrow!"

Silas stood still, not sure how to feel. He looked at the broken pieces of the spirit stone on the ground. He had done it. He had passed the test. But the weight in his chest hadn't gone away.

"Everyone, return to your rooms," Gerald Thorne said calmly, waving his hand to dismiss the crowd.

Silas turned to leave, but a voice suddenly spoke in his ear.

"Come see me in the study."

Later that night, in the study

The room was dim, lit only by a small lantern. Two figures sat silently across from each other-father and son. The space between them felt cold, filled with years of unspoken words.

"You must hate me," Gerald Thorne said quietly, not looking up.

His voice was slow, tired, as if he were talking more to himself than to Silas.

"Do you know how your mother died?"

Silas blinked. The question caught him off guard.

"Mother..." he repeated softly. Her name, her face-it was all distant. Just a shadow in his memory.

"Didn't she die of illness... after I was born?" he asked, repeating what the elders had always told him.

Gerald let out a dry, bitter laugh. It echoed in the stillness.

"Ha... illness?" he sneered. "She died giving birth to you. She died because of you."

Silas froze. The words hit him like a blow to the chest.

He looked at his father, who now stared at the wall with hollow eyes. The coldness in Gerald's face had deepened, as if reliving an old wound that never healed.

"I don't like you," Gerald said after a long silence. "But... you are still my son."

Silas lowered his gaze. There was no warmth in those words. Only obligation.

"So you're sending me away," Silas said softly. "To get rid of me."

"You'll be joining the Azurelight Order," his father replied flatly. "It's a chance most people dream of."

Silas narrowed his eyes. "And if I hadn't awakened my spiritual root today? What then?"

"There are other sects," Gerald said. "Or I could have given you property to manage elsewhere."

Silas smiled faintly. "Sounds like a thoughtful plan."

Neither of them spoke for a while after that.

Outside, the night deepened. The stars had disappeared behind thick clouds, and the wind carried a chill that crept into the room.

Gerald eventually broke the silence. "If you run into trouble at the Azurelight Order... look for your Uncle North."

He waved his hand, ending the conversation.

Silas stood up. The door creaked as it opened.

And then he was gone.

In his room, alone

Silas lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. So much had happened in such a short time, he couldn't sleep.

He had come to this strange new world not long ago. At first, he had only wanted to survive. Now, everything had changed.

He was leaving the Thorne Family.

Leaving behind the cold stares. The silence. The loneliness.

He didn't feel sad. In fact, he felt... free.

Silas closed his eyes and smiled.

Tomorrow, his journey would truly begin.

That night, he dreamed.

In the dream, he soared into the sky like a dragon, his body glowing with golden light. He moved mountains with a wave of his hand, split the ocean with a single thought. When he laughed, the heavens lit up. When he grew angry, lightning tore through the clouds.

He stood above the world, laughing at its chaos, watching everything move in a grand cycle of life and death.

The next morning

The sky had just begun to brighten. The courtyard was full of people. In front stood three boys-Silas Thorne, Damien Thorne, and Marcus Thorne.

Suddenly, a loud whooshing sound echoed in the sky.

A flash of sword light sliced through the clouds, and Lucas North appeared, standing tall and calm. His long sleeves fluttered in the wind.

"Let's go," he said simply.

He waved his hand, and the three boys were swept up into the air. They stood together on a giant sword, flying through the sky.

Silas's body felt light. The wind stung his cheeks, and tears streamed from his eyes.

He looked down. The city was growing smaller and smaller. The world was opening up.

Beside him, Marcus peeked over the edge, then quickly sat down, trembling with fear. "So dizzy..."

Silas and Damien shut their eyes tightly, focusing on staying balanced.

Lucas's voice came over the wind, calm but firm.

"The immortal path is filled with danger. We fight men, we fight beasts, we fight the heavens. If you hesitate, you die. Do you regret your choice?"

"No regrets!" the three boys shouted in unison.

Lucas smiled. "Good. We're almost there."

Moments later, the wind slowed. They began to descend.

Silas opened his eyes.

Ahead of them stood five towering mountain peaks, reaching toward the clouds like giant swords. The central peak was the tallest, hidden in thick mist, majestic and mysterious. The other four surrounded it like guards.

From the distance came the cries of wild beasts-tigers and apes-and the calls of unseen creatures.

A black-robed man floated toward them.

"Senior Brother Silas," he said respectfully.

"Senior Brother Elias," Lucas replied with a nod. "These three are new disciples. I leave them to you."

Then, with a final glance back, Lucas disappeared into the clouds.

As his voice faded, Silas heard one last message: "If you need me, come to

Stormspire Summit."

Silas turned, trying to spot him one last time, but he was already gone.

The man in black robes looked at them.

"Follow me," he said.

And so began the next chapter of their journey-on the path of immortality.