Chronicles of the Trash God

The Valley of Ordures was endless. Or at least, it felt that way. Everywhere Feng Xiao turned, there were mountains of discarded artifacts, rusted weapons, and broken tools, stretching as far as the eye could see. Some of it gleamed faintly in the dim light, remnants of spiritual energy still clinging to their surfaces. But most of it was dead—silent and lifeless, nothing more than trash.

The Pearl of Divine Recycling pulsed faintly in his palm, the soft warmth of its glow his only comfort in this desolate wasteland. It had been hours since he encountered the strange, half-metal figure that had whispered warnings about the Pearl. Feng Xiao had tried to follow it, but the figure had vanished into the haze, leaving him alone with more questions than answers.

"What are you, really?" Feng Xiao muttered, his gaze fixed on the glowing pearl. "And what do you want from me?"

The Pearl, of course, did not answer. It pulsed again, faint and rhythmic, like the beating of a second heart in his hand. Feng Xiao sighed and slipped it into a makeshift pouch he had fashioned from scraps of fabric. As useful as the Pearl was, it was also draining. Each use left him feeling hollow, as though it were pulling energy from somewhere deep within him. He couldn't afford to overuse it—not until he understood it better.

Feng Xiao's stomach growled loudly, pulling him back to the more immediate problem of survival. He had been wandering for hours, scavenging for anything remotely edible, but the Valley offered little in the way of sustenance. The corrupted air and toxic sludge that seeped through the ground made even the thought of drinking water a risk.

He stopped near a particularly large scrap pile and began sifting through the debris. His hands, already bruised and bloodied from earlier, worked mechanically, pushing aside shards of broken metal and shattered glass. His mind wandered back to the Heavenly Dawn Sect—the grand halls, the cultivation pavilions, the endless fields of spiritual herbs. The sect had always been harsh, but it had also been a place of order, a place where resources were abundant.

He clenched his teeth, pushing the thought aside. That life was gone. They had cast him out, branded him as trash. And now here he was, scrounging through an actual pile of trash just to stay alive.

"Focus," he muttered to himself. "Feeling sorry for yourself won't keep you alive."

His hand brushed against something cold and smooth, and he froze. Pulling it free from the pile, he found himself holding a small, round disc made of dark metal. The surface was engraved with intricate patterns that shimmered faintly in the weak light. It was broken, one edge jagged and uneven, but the remnants of spiritual energy within it were unmistakable.

"A formation core," Feng Xiao breathed. His eyes widened as he turned the disc over in his hands. Even in its damaged state, the core was a valuable artifact—something that could be used to stabilize arrays or amplify spiritual energy. He could feel the faint hum of its energy vibrating against his skin.

The Pearl pulsed in his pouch, as though responding to his discovery. Feng Xiao hesitated for a moment before pulling the Pearl out and holding it over the formation core. The warmth of the Pearl's glow intensified, and Feng Xiao watched in awe as the broken edge of the core began to mend itself. The jagged cracks sealed shut, the intricate patterns glowing brighter as the core was restored to its original form.

When the process was complete, Feng Xiao held a fully functional formation core in his hands. It felt alive, its energy resonating with the Pearl in a way that sent shivers down his spine.

"Not bad," he muttered, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He didn't know what he could do with it yet, but having a working formation core was a step in the right direction. If nothing else, it was proof that the Pearl's power wasn't limited to weapons—it could restore anything, given enough energy.

Feng Xiao continued scavenging for the better part of the day, piecing together what little he could find. By evening, he had assembled a small collection of restored artifacts: the formation core, a set of cracked talismans that now glowed faintly with spiritual energy, and a short staff made of polished wood. It wasn't much, but it was enough to give him a fighting chance if he ran into another Trash Spirit—or worse.

He made camp in the shadow of a crumbling stone archway, the remnants of what had once been a grand sect hall. The ground here was relatively flat, and the debris offered some protection from the harsh winds that howled through the Valley. He lit a small fire using scraps of dry wood and sat cross-legged before it, the restored talismans spread out in front of him.

The Pearl pulsed faintly in his lap, its glow dimmer than before. Feng Xiao frowned as he studied it, his mind racing with questions. The artifact's power was undeniable, but it wasn't infinite. Each restoration seemed to drain it, leaving the glow fainter and the pulses weaker. He couldn't afford to rely on it blindly—not if he wanted to survive.

As he stared into the fire, the events of the past few days played over and over in his mind. His exile. Cheng Wu's smug grin. Elder Cheng's cold betrayal. The judgment of the sect elders. The whispers of the crowd, branding him as trash. It all burned in his chest, a simmering rage that refused to be extinguished.

"They think I'm nothing," he muttered under his breath. His fists clenched, his nails digging into his palms. "They think they can throw me away like I don't matter. Like I'm not worth anything."

The fire crackled in response, the flames dancing in the reflection of his eyes. Feng Xiao reached for the restored blade at his side, his fingers curling around the hilt. The weapon's faint runes glowed softly in the firelight, a reminder of what he had achieved with the Pearl's power.

"They're wrong," he said, his voice firm. "I'm not trash. And I'll prove it."

The ground trembled beneath him.

Feng Xiao's head snapped up, his hand instinctively going to the blade. The fire flickered as the tremor grew stronger, the vibrations shaking the debris around him. A low, guttural roar echoed through the Valley, sending a chill down his spine.

Something was coming.

Feng Xiao rose to his feet, his blade drawn as he scanned the area around him. The roar came again, louder this time, followed by the sound of metal grinding against metal. His heart pounded in his chest as he tightened his grip on the weapon.

A massive shadow emerged from the haze, its hulking form towering over the scrap piles. Feng Xiao's breath caught in his throat as the creature came into view.

It was a Trash Spirit, but unlike any he had seen before. Its body was a chaotic mass of jagged metal shards, rusted chains, and broken gears, fused together into a grotesque, humanoid shape. Its glowing red eyes burned with malevolence, and its hands ended in massive claws that dripped with black sludge. The ground shook with every step it took, the air around it crackling with corrupted energy.

Feng Xiao took a step back, his mind racing. This wasn't just any Trash Spirit—it was a Greater Spirit, a creature born from centuries of discarded energy and malice. He had no idea how to fight something like this.

The Spirit roared again, the sound deafening as it charged toward him. Feng Xiao barely had time to react, diving out of the way as the creature's claws slammed into the ground where he had been standing moments before. Shards of metal flew in every direction, cutting into his skin as he scrambled to his feet.

He had to think. Fast.

The talismans.

Feng Xiao reached for the restored talismans at his waist, his fingers brushing against their smooth surfaces. He pulled one free and threw it toward the Spirit, channeling what little energy he could muster into the artifact. The talisman exploded on impact, releasing a burst of spiritual energy that sent the creature stumbling back.

It wasn't enough to kill it, but it bought him time.

Feng Xiao didn't waste a second. He darted toward the formation core, which he had placed near the fire, and grabbed it with both hands. The Pearl pulsed in his pouch, its energy surging as he channeled it into the core. The artifact hummed to life, its intricate patterns glowing brightly as it began to spin.

The Spirit roared in fury, its red eyes locking onto Feng Xiao as it charged again. Feng Xiao gritted his teeth, holding the core in front of him as the energy within it built to a crescendo.

"Let's see how you like this," he muttered.

The core released a blinding surge of energy, the shockwave slamming into the Spirit and sending it crashing into a nearby scrap pile. The creature's body convulsed, the corrupted energy holding it together unraveling as it let out one final, ear-piercing screech.

Then, it was still.

Feng Xiao collapsed to his knees, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. His hands trembled as he set the formation core down, its glow fading as the energy within it was spent.

He had won. Somehow, against all odds, he had survived.

The Pearl pulsed softly in his pouch, its warmth a silent reminder of the power that had carried him through. Feng Xiao's lips curved into a faint, weary smile as he stared at the defeated Spirit.

This was just the beginning.