Chapter One: Reborn as a Good-for-Nothing

“Run!”
“Sister! Run—!”

Anguished shouts echoed in her mind, so loud they nearly split her skull apart.

The stench of blood hung thickly in the air, spreading through the night. In the midst of the crimson pool, the girl’s slender fingers twitched ever so slightly. In the next instant, her tightly shut eyes sprang open.

Her gaze was as fathomless as the deepest night; neither starlight nor moonshine could stir the dark waters of her pupils, leaving only the profound emptiness and depth of darkness.

She blinked, attempting to move her fingers, only to discover that her whole body felt as though it had been crushed beneath heavy wheels—every movement brought a searing, piercing pain.

Yet the girl seemed immune to agony. Her face, pale as paper, remained unchanged. Slowly, she rose from the ground and sat cross-legged. Lowering her head, she cast a detached glance at herself—a shrunken frame, that of a girl twelve or thirteen years old.

Turning away, she gently closed her eyes and sought to compose herself.

Celestial Ruins Continent, spirit power, useless trash…

A flood of memories surged through her mind. She needed a moment to calm her thoughts and piece everything together.

“Master, someone is approaching.” A fleeting golden light passed over her left wrist, and a voice sounded in her mind.

It was her bracelet, within which dwelled a tiny, round-faced sprite, so adorable it aroused an urge to squeeze her cheeks.

Sensing her intent, the little sprite seemed somewhat vexed and reminded her again, “Master!”

No sooner had the words echoed in her mind than urgent footsteps resounded through the air, each one tolling like a summons to death, eerily sinister in the silent night.

“Can’t even keep an eye on a worthless girl. If the head of the family finds out…”

A cold, biting voice drifted from afar, but the girl remained seated as if unmoved by their approach, unaffected by the threat.

Soon, the footsteps drew dangerously close. She opened her eyes and lifted her head, fixing her gaze on the two men who had suddenly appeared.

“Ouyang Xiaoyue, why aren’t you running anymore?” One of the men, a mocking smile on his lips, strode to her side. The sharp, curved blade in his hand glinted coldly under the moonlight.

She merely blinked, her expression unchanged.

Ouyang Xiaoyue?

“Big brother! What’s the point of talking to trash? Just kill her!” The other man, small and wiry with a rat-like face, stepped forward, his tone laced with undisguised disdain.

Something in his words seemed to stir Ouyang Xiaoyue at last. A flicker of emotion surfaced in her hollow gaze.

Seeing her begin to rise, the first man assumed she wanted to make a desperate escape—his mocking smile deepened. He took a step back and waved his hand, his voice as casual as if discussing the weather. “Kill her.”

Moonlight shimmered, silver flashing.

Ouyang Xiaoyue stood motionless between them. A few scarlet drops of blood stained her delicate face.

The rat-faced man stared in shock as his blade was caught in the bare hand of the little girl. He hadn’t even realized when she’d moved!

Shame and fury twisted through him, and a vicious thought flared in his mind. With a flick of his wrist, the keen blade sliced ruthlessly across Ouyang Xiaoyue’s palm.

In the darkness, the sound of steel rending flesh was chillingly clear.

Yet in the very next moment, before the man could carry out his murderous intent, an excruciating pain stabbed through his chest. Looking down, he saw that his curved blade was now only half its length.

The other half was embedded directly in his own heart.

The rat-faced man struggled to lift his head, his eyes wide with disbelief, but his body crumpled backward, never to rise again.

“You! You killed Third Brother!” The leader looked down at his fallen companion, eyes glazed in death, a rare hint of shock flickering in his own. Wasn’t Ouyang Xiaoyue supposed to be a useless waste? How could this be…

She must have used some underhanded trick!

He had no time to ponder further. Fixing his murderous gaze on Ouyang Xiaoyue, his intent to kill was palpable—almost solid.

Across from him, the blood-soaked girl seemed oblivious to him, deaf to his threats. Yet at the mention of a certain word, the air around her shifted, her form blurring into flickering shadows—swift as lightning.

A heavy thud broke the silence. The man’s corpse hit the ground, breath extinguished.

Drip. Drip.

The sound of blood hitting the earth echoed like a death knell. The girl standing amidst the spreading pool of crimson let her killing aura vanish completely, serenity settling over her once more.

“Heh.” At that moment, a soft laugh rang out—subtle, chilling, and, in the blood-soaked silence, enough to make one’s skin crawl.