057 Heavenly DemonI woke up.The stone ceiling above me was the same as always—cold, cracked, eternal. My thin bedding did little to soften the hardness of the floor, but I had long since learned to ignore such things. Comfort was a luxury meant for those who had already proven themselves.I sat up, my limbs aching from yesterday’s training. My breath came out slow and steady, white mist curling from my lips in the dim morning air. The world outside had yet to awaken. No sounds of combat. No screams. No commands barked from the overseers.It was quiet.But quiet never lasted long.Among the hundred of us seeded disciples, only eleven remained.I was second to dead last.Not the worst, but close enough that it hardly made a difference.I had no delusions. I wasn’t special. I wasn’t particularly talented. The only reason I had made it this far was because of my bloodline ability—Sixth Sense Misfortune. It allowed me to survive where others failed, to step just slightly out of death’s reach.But it was a crutch.And crutches did not make one strong.The truth was evident in the gap between myself and the others. The ten remaining disciples before me had all pierced into the Soul-Recognition Realm, the fifth realm of cultivation. I, meanwhile, remained stuck in the Spirit-Mystery Realm, the fourth realm.It wasn’t as if I had slacked. I had given my all. Dedicated every fiber of my being to cultivating for the sake of the Heavenly Demon. And yet, this was my limit.A quiet failure.A forgotten ember among roaring flames.I should have felt despair. I should have been terrified.Instead, I felt nothing at all.I swallowed a sustenance pill.It sat heavy in my stomach, dissolving into warmth that spread through my limbs. Food was unnecessary at our level. Wasteful, even. The sect provided these pills instead—nutrient-dense, (...)