C5 Three Years!

A new day dawned in the hinterlands of Thvelond, where a home nestled deep within the embrace of the white clouds. A staircase of white jade ascended straight from the mountain's base, cleaving through the landscape like a sharp sword intent on splitting the mountain in two. At the top of this grand staircase lay an ancient courtyard.

Outside the courtyard, a young boy sat in silent meditation, cross-legged. This was Ratty, a boy with sly eyes and a slight, hunched frame that bore a striking resemblance to a beggar. His given name was Zopyrus.

Ratty had no knowledge of his parents, only his elderly grandmother who had relied on him for support. The memories of leaving Amvaluna Village were etched deeply in his mind, especially the night three years prior when the villagers had sought to burn him alive.

That was the night he lost everything.

In a desperate act, he had slain thirty-five villagers, his body marred by countless wounds as he staggered away from Amvaluna. Collapsing by the roadside, he was fortuitously found by Clements, who saved his life.

Clements and Kallisto became his only kin in this world, following the death of his grandmother. Now fifteen, Ratty had spent three years since that fateful night, transitioning from the massacre at the village to his new life in Thvelond.

Fear was a constant companion for Ratty, haunting his dreams, for there had been thirty-eight souls in Amvaluna. Aside from the thirty-five deceased villagers and himself, there were two others he had never met, and the fear that they might seek vengeance lingered.

Clements had rescued him three years ago, treating him as if he were his own child. Ratty had made him proud, achieving the Ninth Heaven of Qi Condensation within a month and breaking through the challenging Baihui point, thus stepping firmly into the realm of cultivation with the power of One-Mountain.

But upon awakening one day, he found himself bereft of all progress.

His cultivation had plummeted, the painstakingly achieved One-Mountain disintegrated into nothingness. Over the next three years, he endured the scorn and bullying of his peers. Despite his fierce struggles and cries of defiance, a thousand days of cultivation left him trapped at the Fourth Heaven of Qi Condensation, unable to move forward or back, a source of deep anguish through many seasons.

"Dinner's ready!"

A melodious voice rang out from the kitchen, enchanting as a siren's song. A lithe figure emerged, carrying two bowls of rice.

Kallisto was petite, delicate, with long, elegant legs. Her skin was fair, her features refined. With arched eyebrows, a pert nose, and bright red lips, she was strikingly beautiful. Her large, expressive eyes sparkled with youthful innocence and charm. When she laughed, her eyes would crinkle into crescents, reminiscent of the moon on the horizon.

Her small canines and charming dimples only added to her allure. Her shoulder-length hair, slightly curled, framed her face like a portrait come to life.

Clad in a white dress, she seemed ethereal, a celestial nymph radiating youthful purity and otherworldliness.

Kallisto had been an orphan, discovered by Old Clements on his travels three years prior, suffering from amnesia and joining the ranks three months after the mice.

Outside the courtyard, Zopyrus slowly rose to his feet and staggered into the yard.

A large table stood in the courtyard, laden with three dishes and a soup that looked delectably inviting.

Zopyrus hobbled to the table, took a bowl of rice, and began to eat in silence.

"Squeak!"

Old Clements appeared, signaling to Kallisto with a glance. Both understood and sat down at the table, quietly enjoying their lunch.

"Zopyrus, from now on, avoid the front mountain. Stay on the back mountain and focus on your cultivation. I'll ensure the safety of both you and Kallisto," Old Clements said, eyeing the bruised Zopyrus as he ate his rice.

"Mm-hmm," Zopyrus grunted in acknowledgment, albeit indifferently.

"You must realize, with only the Fourth Heaven of Qi Condensation, going to the front mountain will only invite bullying from your peers," Old Clements sighed, continuing his counsel.

"Enough!"

Zopyrus's roar, filled with hysteria, shattered the tranquility of the courtyard.

"Crash!"

In a fit of rage, his eyes blazing, Zopyrus flipped the table, sending three dishes and the soup crashing to the ground. The oil splattered, and the plates shattered into fragments upon impact.

"Ah!"

Scalding soup splashed onto Kallisto's fair face, causing blisters to form instantly. She let out a pained cry, stumbling backward and clutching her cheek, her crescent-moon eyes brimming with glistening tears.

"Why did you save me three years ago? It would have been better to let me die!" Zopyrus suddenly stood up, his roar directed at Clements, his face contorted in an ugly snarl, like that of a demon.

"Say that again!" Clements erupted in fury, his white hair bristling with anger. His stooped body shook violently as his hands clenched, veins bulging with the effort.

"What difference would it make if I said it ten more times? Look at these scars!" With a ripping sound, Zopyrus violently tore open his shirt, baring his chest in front of Clements and Kallisto.

His small chest was a tapestry of scars, crisscrossed and deep, some even revealing bone. The most severe was a knife wound from Clarkson, a mere centimeter from piercing his heart.

"Do you see them? Do you see these scars? This is the 'family' you speak of, who've tortured me without end!" Zopyrus bellowed, tears welling in his small eyes.

"Zopyrus!" Kallisto stood there, her hand over her flushed lips, her crescent-shaped eyes brimming with tears.

Having lived with Zopyrus for three years, Kallisto understood his pain better than anyone, except perhaps Clements. Yet, witnessing the full extent of his scars for the first time today, she couldn't help but let her tears fall.

"I've already told you, stop going to the front mountain. Just stay here," Clements said, his eyes reddening as he looked at the dense scars on Zopyrus's chest. He turned his head, a tinge of guilt in his voice.

"No, I refuse to die here!" Zopyrus cried out in anguish.

"I've waited three long years, waiting for a chance to prove myself. Not to show off, but to reclaim what I've lost!" Zopyrus's roar was tinged with madness, his eyes nearly splitting with fervor.

"What have you lost? Zopyrus, what are you trying to reclaim? Victoria?" Clements's voice was heavy with sorrow, his cloudy eyes filled with tears as he recalled the greatest pain Zopyrus had endured over the past three years—the loss of Victoria.

"No!" The Rat bellowed, his roar directed at Clements, "It's about dignity. A man's dignity. The most fundamental dignity of being human!"

His cries echoed across the sky behind Thvelond, resonating throughout the heavens.

For three years, he had not known what dignity felt like. After each injury, he kept his silence, never daring to confide in Kallisto or Clements. Alone in the dead of night, he would curl up in his frigid little room, like an injured lone wolf, quietly tending to his wounds and nursing the fissures in his soul.

Three long years of enduring the inhumane torment from his fellow disciples had passed.

Yet, he had never surrendered. But for what?

He was waiting for a chance to reclaim what was rightfully his – his dignity, the dignity of a man, the essential dignity of a person.

"Zopyrus!" Kallisto wept bitterly, her delicate frame collapsing into the Rat's embrace. She clung to his slender body, her tears falling like rain. Aside from Clements, she was the one who truly understood the Rat's anguish.

Her heart ached as if it had been shattered, the pain so intense it made breathing difficult.

"My child, you've suffered so much!" Clements moved forward, his arms outstretched, enveloping both the Rat and Kallisto in a warm embrace.

Tears streamed from his clouded eyes.

All three wept together, their sobs so wrenching that they moved anyone who heard them to sorrow.

The afternoon sun blazed fiercely, its golden Divine Light piercing the sky, bathing the nine continents in its glow.

On the rooftop of Clements' courtyard, the Rat and Kallisto sat side by side, gazing at the stunning vista of Thvelond's hinterlands.

"Kallisto, I had another dream about our parents last night. They said they missed me so much!" The Rat's face was somber as he pulled a snow-white handkerchief from his chest.

The handkerchief, exquisitely embroidered with fine silk, bore the images of Divine Dragons and Divine Phoenixes, symbols of auspicious harmony.

Fifteen years had passed, and apart from the stories his grandmother told him, this handkerchief from his mother was all he had left.

It was his sole connection to his parents, the only keepsake he cherished.

"I always feel like my parents are still out there in the world, somewhere. I can sense them clearly," Zopyrus said with a mournful look in his eyes.

"Zopyrus, you have me by your side, don't you?" Kallisto gently wrapped her arms around Zopyrus. In her fragrant embrace, his heart found its usual swift peace.

Who could tame an enraged Zopyrus? Only two things: Clements's bellowing and Kallisto's embrace.

"Kallisto, I have nothing to offer you," he said, gently pushing away the small hands that encircled him. Zopyrus turned his head, tears brimming in his eyes, and looked away.

"I don't need anything from you," Kallisto replied, her expression dimming as she bowed her head, her beautiful black hair shrouding her face.

"No, Kallisto, you don't understand. You've never ventured beyond the back mountain of Thvelond, so you can't imagine how many handsome and dashing men there are in the world!"

"You'll never know that some men's handsomeness is once in an eternity, and you'll never realize that I am the most hideous man in the world!"

Zopyrus murmured to himself, unable to face Kallisto. Three years of humiliation, a childhood without his parents, his ugly features, and frail frame had ingrained a deep sense of inferiority in him.

"What's wrong?" came Kallisto's crisp voice from behind him.

Zopyrus's slight, stooped figure shuddered, sensing something amiss. He spun around and was met with a sight that nearly tore his heart out.

"What are you doing?" he exclaimed, seeing the sharp stone in Kallisto's hand and the shallow cut on her pale cheek, from which blood, red as agate, slowly oozed.

She was like a proud plum blossom, defiant in the winter snow.

"Zopyrus, if you're the ugliest man in the world, then I'll become the ugliest woman!" Kallisto's hands clutched the stone tightly, ready to slash at her flawless face.

"Stop!" Zopyrus bellowed, sprinting towards her. In the nick of time, he grasped Kallisto's hands firmly.

"Don't make me feel even worse about myself!" he cried, taking the bloodied stone from Kallisto's grasp and tossing it aside.

"Zopyrus, my heart aches for you!" Kallisto flung herself into his arms, weeping bitterly. Her sobs of utter despair made Zopyrus vow to protect her from harm for the rest of his life.

"Boom!"

Just then, an unexpected change occurred!