Chapter [B4] 11 — Yan Xian
Elder Yan sat on the peak of the Cradle of Dragons, lightning coursing all around him. Qi swirled in torrents around him, lightning roaring and raging as the very heavens thundered and crackled with power, testing him.
It had been months, months since he’d arrived here… after that humiliation, after he’d had everything taken from him. He’d lost his dignity, lost his sect, lost his cultivation, lost his granddaughter. His journey to the capital had been treacherous… and he’d quickly found out that even the sect had been won over by the demon boy. His last hope had been taken from him, just like that, as he’d simply been betrayed by his own sect and left to the side, all for an upstart boy of no name.
At that moment… Elder Yan had truly lost it all. But he had not gotten where he had by giving up, and he’d picked himself and arrived at this place, meditating, cultivating at this peak and regaining his power.
Anger swirled in Elder Yang. Anger and hatred. But with time, it had become tempered.
Lightning flashed around the peak, crackling around Elder Yan and striking down onto him. He remained unphased, simply absorbing it within him, and adding it to his cultivation. Building it back, layer by layer, and now… he’d reached heights even greater than before.
He sat there, feeling the lightning course through him. He had nothing now, truly nothing, and it had been a powerful reminder for him. It had reminded him of where he’d once began from. His clothes were tattered with dirt covering them, his hair grayed and his beard matted. No one would ever think of him as an elder of a sect if they saw him. He looked like a mad man.
And what fault would there be? What sect did he own now? What power did he command?
He had nothing, nothing left in him, and when he’d had nothing left in him, it had reminded him of what he truly owned, of what was truly his own, of what he truly commanded.
Himself. Nothing else. He only had himself, his own body, his own strength, spirit, will and conviction. The things he had been born with, the thing he could truly call his, those were the only ones, and so, he had begun cultivating them anew.