12 Return in Humiliation

The man cloaked in black clothes revealed his cultivation to everyone for the first time. The children were too young and weak that they couldn't fathom the aura he released

The elders however were able to understand that aura all too well

Spiritual Transformation 8!

He was a whole stage above most elders in clans so the elders were confused. He already flamboyantly showed off his might and the elders were warned earlier not to offend this expert.

But to think he was this powerful was out of the expectations of the elders.

If Christian were to say the truth in front of the expert, he would not even be aware of how he died in this expert's hand.

Option 2, Christian would lie but the expert would still kill him. Would a high leveled expert not be able to tell a lie from a child?

To make it even worse just as the mysterious voice mentioned to Dean. Christian was ambitious.

This ambition could be hidden within his heart but that doesn't stop people prying Christian's secrets.

The man tried to form his sentences with pausing but the outcome made it more menacing

"I'll temporarily let you off. Once I find out who has done this. They'll die."

Short but quick to the point the man ran.

Because of his high prowess he would've been able to get back to the great family in a few hours but holding a child he had to lower his speed, in the fear he could harm him.

He decided at the time that by going in a carriage Dean would gain experience in life but if he knew this happened he wouldn't have done it again.

He found Dean disheveled with his robes torn to pieces.

When carrying him he immediately found that his dantian was empty. Taking a closer inspection he realized his meridians were completely crippled and for others his Talent Root was useless.

All these so called judgement made by alchemists seemed the same to this expert.

Tears built up on the edge of his eye as he murmured

"I'm sorry...I should've taken care of our son better...I'll be there soon."

Each phrase was filled with heartache as the voice tended to be on the brink of a raspy voice.

As the afternoon has already passed the night took its place and the Wilkes family has someone break through their defenses.

An old man told a messenger

"Tell the troops to stay their hands. It is Elder Asher"

Hearing the name 'Elder Asher' the messenger had a grim face and ran at an absurd speed. Rushing towards his allies in the hopes no one dies.

"So you're already here?"

Turning around the old man saw Elder Asher holding a child.

"What happened to my grandson"

The old man was one who took control of the Wilkes family as he was the clan leader. To most of the people living here he was a grandfather or a father.

"Take a look"

The old man took a glance but couldn't help taking a second. Cautiously he placed two finger's above Dean's wrist

"WHO THE FUCK DID THIS?"

The scream bellowed within the whole territory as the guards shivered at the yell.

Trying to resume his calm he asked "Asher, who did it?"

"I don't know"

"Asher, I use my authority as a grandpa and not the clan leader. Find those friends of his and ask in two days time. For now we should heal Dean. He may be a lost cause for martial arts but as a normal person he'll be fine"

"If we find out it was a scheme from one of those families...kill their elder and cut off business ties with them. The family will not take this lying down if they dared to harm this old man's grandson."

with resentment and determination the clan leader vowed his revenge while taking Dean into a separate room.

...

On the distant training grounds of the Wilkes family was a brawl.

Grass collected the drops of blood like dew while the soil had a puddle of blood on top.

A group of teenagers surrounded a younger child who could only cough blood at the fate of the teen's fist.

Pushed around, the child didn't respond to the provocation and continued to get bullied by his silent demeanor.

Eventually a crowd watched the entertainment, mocking, chuckling and commenting on the misfortune of the child.

Dean faced these insults one by one and got pummeled for not responding.

Lately, Dean felt that he was starting to get more.... twisted.

His expressions became more hidden and replaced easily when necessary. Thoughts would linger that were questionable and his emotions became more calm.

If it was a few years ago he would've shown an expression of outright disgust at his clan-mates

These people who shared the same blood as himself were less trustworthy than a dead corpse that gave his last words

"...My brothers without hesitation would behead me... "

Why is it so ironic that a rock is kinder than relatives?

Refusing to sigh Dean still had a blank face except it was riddled with bruises.

He had two black eyes and vomited blood after someone punched his chest due to his seeing Dean's blank face.

At the end of the day everyone just left.

After releasing their stress and anger they just left.

No repercussions. No punishment. No disciplining.

Dean sighed as he dragged himself into a small shack. Jumping into a nearby lake he cleaned himself of his blood as well as his clothes.

Everyday, as long as he wasn't bullied he would go to the library.

Studying was a necessity and in his clan's eyes he was just trying to become a tool.

If the family martial artists were weapons then the smart scholars were tools that helped the family use the weapons.

Accepting his fate he bided his time, waiting patiently for what he was told.

Approximately two years ago on this day was he told a fate-changing plan.

To break free from the status as a cripple and reclaim what was rightfully his. To steal back what Christian stole from him.

Wealth? Power? Love? Happiness?

Everything will be stolen from him. The mysterious voice stated the one truth Dean agrees with

"Jealous of him? Oh please, this is just revenge."

That's right, it's just revenge and nothing else.

Two years ago the blue orb melted past his stomach, floating before Dean's eyes.

Lying on his sickbed he glumly glanced with blurred eyes at the orb but was awaken by the voice.

"Hmmph, my disciple do you already feel like dying? I already said pity and sympathy is for the weak yet here you are, laid peacefully a top a soft mattress."

Wanting to rebuke, Dean felt wronged. He has just been injured and after that traumatizing event he was told to suddenly act like a god and decide someone's fate?

The voice continued before Dean could defend himself

"I don't have much time. Two years from now your condition will be fine. Go back to my grave and take all the resources. The blue orb is like a space ring and has a manual. Practice diligently and wait for the right time to act."

"Don't let this be the last of my heritage. My disciple you may leave this dreadful path and abandon it however you must leave the blue orb there. If you wish to continue down the road of what others consider to be errors then heed to your desires."

"My name... it's been too long. What I do remember is that my peers called me a clown...jester? I forgot. Anyways, I leave you this choice. Whatever you pick I don't blame you."

Dean saw the blue orb gently float towards his stomach and merged with his dantian, repairing the broken cracks.

"Excuse me?"

Dean felt exhausted. Assigned with this new task he just felt that everything wasn't worth it.

What else is there to do?

Will I just rot like what Christian expected?

HELL NO!

I refuse to go down the normal path is laid down for me.

I refuse to be a mortal that will be stepped on

I refuse to just be a nobody that can be messed with

I'll be a person who rebels against your so called 'ambition'

I'll walk down this path that is considered to be an 'error'

So what? I'll do whatever it takes.

But for now...time will only tell.

Dean tried to jump out of bed from this new found passion the mysterious voice invigorated Dean with. The outcome was as Dean felt a shock from his wounds opening.

Sitting down on his bed he thought what to do for the next 2 years before doing anything.

And that's how he arrived to today.

Deanbowed in front of a desk with his eyes on the ground and a straight back "Grandpa, I request to go to my friend's grave."

Looking away from the piles of paper on his desk an old face lit up with a smile before sighing

"Is it that time? You know the clan will stop me sojust be careful. My grandson take care, i'll send someone to tell the message to the guards"

The conversation was quick but that was due to the rift of the grandpa and grandson pair.

When he Grandpa Wilkes referred to "You know the clan will stop me sojust be careful." what he meant was that the clan is not willing to help a cripple.

Dean already expected this so he felt no trouble by this. But was he disappointed.

Sadly that was a long time ago. He bore hatred for everything and everyone around him but slowly let it all go in the two years.

They were blood-related but with the hell he suffered, he managed to come to one conclusion. They were nothing more than strangers that give him benefits.

I act as a punching bag and I get free shelter, food and water.