A soft knock tapped against the door, followed by a small voice drifting into the room.
"Hello, Mister Derick."
The sound snapped me out of my thoughts. I rose quickly and moved to the door. When I opened it, a young girl—no older than twelve—stood waiting in the hallway, her hands clasped in front of her.
She dipped her head politely.
"Sir, the lady has awakened… and she's requesting an audience with you.
"I'm coming—just give me a few seconds," Derick replied.
He closed the door and hurried to the washroom, splashing cold water on his face to steady himself. Once done, he stepped out and followed the young girl down the corridor.
She led him through a long passageway, the air growing calmer as they approached Rui Yan's quarters. They eventually entered a small garden behind the residence, quiet and fragrant with morning dew. The girl stopped at the entrance and gestured for him to go on.
"She's inside," she said, remaining outside as she ushered him in.
stepping in Derick heard the sound of a musical instrument playing a sweet and melodious note.
following the sound he was met with the visage of the back of an Asian lady sitting crossed legged playing a violin, and sitting to the far corner towards the left hand side of the lady sat Dillard. stepping towards the lady Dillard showed him a hand sign stopping him in his tracks.
Dillard motioned for him to come and sit in the bench with him.
Derick sat down close to Dillard and listened to the music being played
Stepping inside, Derick was immediately greeted by the soft, sweet notes of a musical instrument—gentle, flowing, almost hypnotic.
He followed the sound deeper into the garden room.
There, he saw her.
An Asian woman sat cross-legged in the center, her back straight and graceful as her hands guided a violin. Each stroke of the bow sent a warm, melodious vibration through the air. Her posture alone radiated calm, as though she and the music were one.
To her left, seated quietly in the far corner, was Dillard.
Derick took a step forward, but Dillard raised a hand, stopping him with a silent gesture. Then he motioned toward the long wooden bench beside him.
Derick nodded and moved quietly to his side. He eased onto the bench, letting the music wash over him, each note settling into the quiet spaces of his mind.
After a while, the final note of the violin faded into silence.
Rui Yan lowered the instrument, letting the bow rest gently at her side. She rose, lifted her chair with practiced ease, and placed it in front of the two men. Settling into it, she faced them directly—her posture elegant, her expression warm.
"Good day, friend," she said, her voice carrying a soft, welcoming tone. "I hope you've been comfortable during your stay."
She offered a polite nod.
"My name is Rui Yan. And this," she gestured lightly toward the man beside Derick, "is Dillard—my companion and partner on the Pathway."
Her gaze lingered on Derick, gratitude clear in her eyes.
"He told me everything that happened. Thank you. Your intervention came at exactly the right moment. If you hadn't been there… I might not be sitting here now."
She folded her hands gracefully on her lap.
"As a gesture of appreciation, the Matriarch of our house has made a decision. She is willing to welcome you as an outer member of our clan—if you choose to accept."
"Can I think about it?" Derick asked, keeping his tone steady.
Rui Yan nodded. "Of course. You have about sixty days before the Trial begins—that's your deadline to make a choice."
She leaned back slightly, her eyes steady.
"But understand this: if you do accept the offer, you'll be required to participate in the Trial. It's the only way to earn your place within the clan."
ok said Derick.
in the time being you can stay here if you like.
Chatting for a while Derick asked to be excused and went to his room to rest for the day
After he left Dillard approached Rui Yan and asked why did you propose for him to join the clan, Rui Yan answered he is special special like how asked Dillard, replied Rui Yan. I felt it. You know my instincts are very correct most times. So I did it to let him trust us and for him to join the clan. In fact I did it for the clan. Do you know that the ability of the matriarch could not work on him
the next day Derick terraced his steps back to the teleportation platform that was owned by the clan and teleported back to the pathway.
Ariving he prepared his things and headed out side the castle
"Alright," Rui Yan said softly. "In the meantime, you can stay here if you wish. The clan will provide whatever you need."
They chatted for a short while longer, discussing small matters. Eventually, Derick rose from his seat.
"If you'll excuse me," he said, "I'd like to rest for the day."
"Of course," Rui Yan replied with a polite nod.
Derick left the garden, heading back to his assigned room.
Once he was gone, Dillard stepped closer to Rui Yan, lowering his voice.
"Why did you invite him to join the clan?" he asked, brows furrowed. "You barely know him."
Rui Yan's expression turned thoughtful, her gaze drifting to where Derick had disappeared.
"He's… special," she said quietly.
"Special how?" Dillard pressed.
"I don't know the full extent yet," Rui Yan admitted, "but I felt something. You know how accurate my instincts are. And besides… the Matriarch's ability didn't work on him."
Dillard stiffened at that. "Didn't work?"
She nodded. "Not even a flicker. Someone who can resist the Matriarch's Gift is either incredibly dangerous… or incredibly valuable. For the clan's future, I want him on our side."
Dillard fell silent, digesting her words.
With the morning sun filtering over the courtyard, Derick retraced his steps toward the clan's teleportation platform. The runes lit up beneath his feet, and with a pulse of light, the world shifted.
He reappeared inside the Pathway.
Without wasting time, he gathered his equipment, adjusted his gear, and stepped out of the castle, ready to continue his journey.
The Next Day. As Derick walked through the narrow path outside the
castle, a voice barked from behind him.
"Hey, trash. The boss is calling you."
Derick stopped mid step . "please step out of the way," he said politely .
The boy blocking his path smirked. "Make me."
Derick moved to walk around him, refusing to waste time—but the moment his back turned, a heavy fist slammed between his shoulders.
The impact sent him stumbling forward. He hit the ground hard, his cheek scraping against a jagged rock. Warm blood trickled down the side of his face.
A sharp, burning rage ignited in his chest.
Slowly, Derick pushed himself up. His vision trembled with fury as he swung a hard punch at the boy.
The attacker sidestepped with ease and countered immediately.
His fist smashed square into Derick's face, snapping his head to the side. Blood sprayed from his lip.
A cold, mechanical chime echoed inside Derick's mind.
Ding!
A translucent blue screen flickered into view.
{New Ability Detected}
{Ability Copy Successful}
{Ability Type: Transformation}
{Ability Name: Stone Skin}
{Ability Description: Hardens the user's body, greatly increasing physical defense and resistance to injury.}
Derick's breathing steadied as the notification faded.
Stone Skin…
He could feel it—something shifting beneath his skin, a faint tightening, as if invisible armor was forming around his bones.
The boy sneered. "What? Gonna cry?"
Derick lifted his gaze.
No.
Not this time.
The boy lunged forward, fist raised. Derick didn't dodge—he didn't need to.
Crack!
The punch landed squarely on Derick's jaw… and stopped cold.
The boy's eyes widened.
"What—?"
Derick didn't give him time to finish.
He stepped in, driving his elbow straight into the boy's chest.
The impact sent the boy staggering back, coughing violently, air knocked from his lungs.
Derick advanced with calm, predatory steps.
"You like attacking people from behind?" he asked, voice low.
The boy gritted his teeth and rushed again, anger overriding sense. He threw a wild punch at Derick's ribs—
Thud!
It hit, but Derick barely felt it. The Stone Skin absorbed the force like a wall of iron.
Derick grabbed him by the wrist, twisted sharply, and drove his knee into the boy's stomach. The attacker folded without resistance, collapsing to his knees, gasping.
Panic finally flickered in his eyes.
"wait"
But Derick wasn't listening.
He grabbed the boy by the collar, pulled him close, and whispered, "Next time you try something like that… make sure you can finish what you start."
He lifted the boy slightly, then tossed him aside.
The attacker hit the ground with a grunt and lay there, wheezing, unable to continue.
A small crowd had gathered, watching in silence, as if this were nothing more than a routine spectacle.
In the Pathway Realm, death was a common occurrence—hunting, ambushes, betrayals. No laws punished a killing here. People only respected strength… and despised weakness.
The same people who once whispered "trash" behind Derick's back now looked at him with a mixture of ridicule, irritation… and just a hint of reluctant acknowledgment.
Someone in the crowd snorted.
"A trash beating up another trash. What a show."
Derick ignored them.
He wiped the blood from his lip, expression unreadable, and walked on.
He didn't spare the fallen attacker a second glance. Here, mercy was an invitation for others to trample you. Weakness invited predators.
He had learned that quickly.
But Derick had taken only a few steps before another figure stepped into his path.
A tall boy with a smug grin.
"Watch your mouth, trash," the newcomer drawled. "The boss is calling you. You don't get to ignore him."
He jabbed a finger against Derick's chest.
"Come now… or face the consequences."
Derick let out a slow breath. "…I'm in a hurry. Maybe later."
The boy's grin evaporated.
"So you chose 'later,' huh?"
His gaze sharpened.
"Then take your consequences."
With a flick of his wrist, a sword materialized—thin, sharp, glowing faintly at the edges.
He lunged.
Derick sidestepped—
—but the flat of the blade smashed across his face with explosive force.
Crack!
Derick's head whipped sideways, blood spraying from his mouth.
Before he could draw air, the boy drove the flat of the sword into his stomach.
Agony erupted through his core as his body folded inward, breath ripped out of his lungs.
Derick coughed blood, vision trembling—
—but his opponent wasn't done.
The sword slammed down across his back, sending a jolt through his spine and hurling him to the ground.
He hit the dirt hard, the world spinning dark around the edges.
The crowd murmured, shifting uneasily.
The attacker planted a boot on Derick's shoulder, pinning him.
"Next time," he sneered, leaning close, "remember your place."
He lifted his foot.
"Now get up. The boss is waiting."
Derick pushed up weakly—
but before he could fully rise, a fist suddenly slammed into the side of his head.
His vision went white.
He collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.
"What did you do that for!?" the boy who had been attacking Derick shouted angrily.
A second person lowered his fist, expression cold and impatient.
"The boss is waiting. We don't have time to play around. Stop dragging it out unless you want to face the boss's wrath."