An Ending

~Whoosh~

The wind was blowing hard on a certain day in the Yang Sect, as a young boy around fourteen years old was standing in the middle of a wide, messy courtyard, surrounded by hundreds of dark red and yellow eastern-style buildings.

"Just another day of sweeping…" The boy muttered with a self-deprecating smile plastered on his average face, his hands skillfully moving a broken broom around the courtyard.

-

This boy's name was Azmodeus; he had no last name, and for his entire life, he has been working away in the Yang Sect.

When he was an infant, likely no older than a few days old, he was dropped off at the Yang Sect's gates with nothing but a bamboo basket to keep him in and a note that said, 'His name is Azmodeus…'

It has been fourteen years since that day, and he was admitted as a Trial Disciple of the Yang Sect the day he turned twelve.

Although he wasn't allotted any resources by his sect, and despite his lack of cultivation talent and high-rank Spiritual Roots, he tried to make the most of his life.

He had no friends, he had no family, and he had no companions.

There were no secret lovers, no girl next door; he had no one.

Even his fellow elder sect brothers and sisters, along with the elders of the sect, despised him.

The reason for their disdain? Well, it was because of nothing more than the 'Spiritual Root' and subsequent cultivation talent that he was born with.

In the world of Prometheus, power was everything.

And to acquire that power, one needed the talent to grasp it!

However, in the case of Azmodeus, he was born with the lowest-ranked and most useless Spiritual Root of all time, namely, the 'Crystallized Embryo'.

Even the most basic of Spiritual Roots gave the owner the lowest quality of cultivation talent, along with a matching innate ability.

But for him, he was only given the 'lowest quality cultivation talent' part…

Which was to say that he was more useless than even the worst of the cultivators out there.

And it was because of this inadequate talent that he was essentially abandoned by the Yang Sect in everything but name.

There were no resources allotted to him, people treated him as thin air, and he was despised by everyone for being weak and useless.

This was his life as one who possessed the weakest of Rank 1 Spiritual Roots…

Nonetheless, just like every other day, he walked through the vast courtyards of the Outer Sect, attempting to make everything spotless.

He did this even though he knew for a fact that no one would thank him or even appreciate him for what he was doing…

-

"I wonder where Elder Chong is…" Azmodeus spoke with a curious tone as he looked toward the Sect Library.

Elder Chong was the one who gave him his daily menial sect quests, and he was expected to complete at least three of them daily.

If he didn't complete three at the very minimum, then he would be publicly whipped in front of all the Outer Sect Disciples and Entry-Level Disciples.

"It looks like he's not here today." He sighed as he turned his dull gaze away from the empty Sect Library.

"Well, they are having that group Sect Gathering Celebration today, so it's no surprise that the Sect Library, just like the rest of the sect, is deserted."

After understanding this, he remembered that he was the only one who wasn't invited to the gathering that celebrated the sect's overwhelming victory against the Beast Wave that attacked one of the sect's affiliate towns.

"Oh well… Just another day in paradise."

His dejected words echoed out as he continued the last of his daily tasks for the day.

-

A few minutes passed by, as Azmodeus was just about finished with his sweeping of the Sect courtyards, which spanned tens of thousands of meters altogether.

And just as he was about to pack it up and head back to his 'home' outside of the sect, a few drunken figures in gray robes walked into view.

Their robes had little red badges stitched onto the front of them, and on those badges, there were exactly three green bamboos, which indicated that these disciples were Inner Disciples of the Yang Sect.

Furthermore, it also went to say that all of them had reached at least the Early Pulse Condensation Stage of the Body Refinement Realm.

And when their cultivation bases were pitted up against Azmodeus's, they were five minor realms higher than his Flesh Refining Realm!

"..." But even in spite of the vast difference in their strengths, Azmodeus simply stared at these familiar faces with a darkened expression.

"Eh? Is that Azmodeus??" The leading man, with his hair tied into a bun, sneered with a smug and disoriented look on his face.

"Ahh, brother Yang Cheng, it turns out it really is that piece of trash!" A hunch-backed young man with a kiss-ass disposition fervently agreed with his Young Master.

"I really don't like how that one is always looking at me, brother Yang Cheng. Could you pretty pwease do something about him for me~?"

A girl with a makeup-covered face and a well-endowed body made of 95% plastic snuggled up to the leading drunken figure as her sinuous gaze focused on the inexpressive Azmodeus.

She seemed to have some personal grievances against him.

Her name was Yang Yun, and she was considered one of the Yang Sect's untouchable flowers.

-

"..." Yang Cheng looked down at the cleavage that was pressing up against his chest as a lecherous look formed on his face before he turned his head in Azmodeus's direction, slurred his words, and said, "D-Do you know *hick!* wh-who I am…? Y-You stupid useless trash! *hick!*

He burped a few times during his speech, as he was clearly intoxicated to the extreme.

"..." Azmodeus looked at this ridiculous scene with a blank expression, as he could tell that Yang Cheng was barely keeping himself off the ground.

He expected this to end with him having to 'sincerely apologize' for his 'rude behavior' like usual; however, contrary to his expectations, Yang Cheng stepped forward with wobbly steps.

After making it to a location around five meters away from him after great effort, he stammered, "*hick!* I-I am the son of the Grand Elder! This ma-makes me far better than you! W-What was that!? You wish to fight me, you say!?"

Yang Cheng's expression turned enraged as he conjured up the inner strength within his body and directed it toward his fists before shouting, "How dare you claim to be superior to one such as I!? M-My woman says you have been staring at her with your poor people eyes, wh-which is unacceptable! S-So just die for this d-daddy!"

"???"

Azmodeus had no clue what this lunatic was spouting out of his disgusting mouth, but before he could even comprehend what was happening, a fist beyond anything he could withstand was sent barreling in his direction.

What the hell-!?

His astonished thoughts were interrupted by Yang Cheng's fist, coated in a mysterious blue energy, hitting him directly in the pit of his stomach!

How is he so accurate even while black-out drunk!?

Azmodeus's bewildered thoughts were followed by a great amount of blood pouring out of his mouth as he was sent flying into a nearby red brick-layered wall!

BOOM!

The brick wall was destroyed in less than an instant, as the bloodied figure of a young boy was seen laying up against a few loose bricks with a large hole in his stomach.

"W-What the hell…" He mumbled through bloodied teeth.

The light in his eyes was beginning to flicker as Yang Cheng, Yang Yun, and the hunchback walked over to his dilapidated figure.

"!!!" Yang Yun, upon seeing the mangled body of Azmodeus, immediately threw up onto the ground, as she was clearly not used to gory sights.

Yang Cheng and the hunchback would likely be reacting the same way, but they were far too drunk to even notice the ribs poking through his organs.

Instead, Yang Cheng walked up to his bloodied body with dazed eyes as he stammered, "T-This is what happens when someone goes against me!"

After getting out his narcissistic statement, his eyes closed up as he fell onto the dying figure below him.

"..." Azmodeus turned his pained expression down toward the seventeen-year-old young man snoring on his mangled torso, as he couldn't believe what was happening right now.

However, it didn't take long before the pain kicked in and he accepted the reality of his situation.

"Urrghh…!" He grunted with a look that said he wasn't willing to show any sign of pain.

But on the inside...

F*cking sh*t, this really hurts!!!

He screamed out inside his mind while squirming on the brick wall with the man who did this soundly sleeping on top of him.

After a few seconds of futile struggle, under the drunken eyes of Yang Yun and the hunchback, Azmodeus ultimately came to terms with his destined fate.

Th-This is really happening… I'm going to die, aren't I…?

Following this thought, the light from his eyes started to fade, as he was close to slipping away into the afterlife.

But before he passed away for good, he shouted, "...I-I refuse! I'm unwilling! I can't die!"

He was unwilling to die! He didn't care how terrible his life was! He didn't care that there was no one but himself in his life!

Every day since the moment he came to learn about cultivation and acquired the most basic Qi circulation technique there was, Azmodeus has been arduously cultivating!

He cultivated tens of times harder than all the geniuses in his Sect! He cultivated so hard while juggling his sect duties, all for the sole purpose of becoming stronger!

He didn't know anything about becoming the strongest, but what he did know was that he had to give it his all!

And that's exactly what he did, as he spent 12–14 hours cultivating every single day!

Although after tens of thousands of hours of cultivating, he had only advanced from the first realm of the Body Refinement Realm, the Strength Training Stage, to the second realm, the Flesh Refining Stage, he didn't care!

He wasn't cultivating in hopes of gaining instant success like all the Young Master's of the Yang Sect.

No! He was cultivating to get stronger! To make everyone, including his parents, regret ever looking down on him!

He did everything he was told to do; he was willing to be humiliated by whatever means those stronger than him deemed fitting for him merely existing.

There was nothing he wasn't willing to do in order to become stronger!

All so he could prove to everyone else, and more importantly, to himself, that he was worth something!

And yet…

-

"L-Life truly is so unfair…" Azmodeus despondently mumbled, a self-deprecating smile playing on his cracked lips.

He held the hole in his stomach while inflicting more pain on himself in an attempt to keep his eyes open.

I can't die here… I refuse to die here! I want power! I want to get stronger! I want to prove them all wrong!

A fire was lit in his black eyes as he attempted to roll the drunken bastard off of him, aiming to find someone who could heal him.

However, no matter what he did, none of his muscles were responding to his commands…

But regardless of the unresponsiveness of his body, he tried to get himself up again.

He failed.

He tried again.

He failed again.

He tried again…

And after more than a dozen attempts at trying to move, nothing was working, so Azmodeus tried something else as he called out to the two wide-eyed people watching his struggle with shocked expressions.

"H… Hel…" He tried to call out to the two idiots, but his voice just didn't have anything left to give.

After a dozen or so attempts to get out his voice, he realized something that he should have understood the very moment Yang Cheng hit him.

I'm going to die… I'm really going to die… Before I even made my mark in this world… Before I proved that I was worth something...

He used the rest of his strength to turn his face up to the star-spackled night sky, and inside his head he mumbled, 'This is the end for me… But for some reason, the night looks a whole lot prettier today…'

He marveled at the sparkling stars as the light from his eyes faded away forever.

And just as he vanished into the world of the unconscious, a particularly distinct star shot through the black blanket that covered the world of Prometheus, a star that held untold meanings for the untimely death of the Yang Sect's only Trial Disciple...

*****