Chronicles of the Trash God

Feng Xiao's fingers brushed the surface of the glowing object submerged in the black sludge. The sensation was strange—cold and slick, like the sludge itself was trying to repel him. But the moment his hand fully enclosed around it, the resistance gave way, and the Pearl's glow intensified, pushing back the thick, corrupted energy.

His body tensed as energy surged up his arm, his muscles locking as if gripped by an unseen force. The whispers returned, louder than ever, and this time they were clear enough for him to almost make out the words.

"Re... shape... what was... lost..."

His heart pounded as the second Pearl fused into his body like the first. There was no violent flash of light this time, but the hum of power rippled through his dantian like a stone tossed into a still pond. The broken fragments of spiritual energy he had struggled to maintain now swirled into something slightly stronger—still small, still fragile, but growing.

Then the pain came.

It wasn't like before, when the Pearl's energy had burned through him like a wildfire. This was something deeper, something that sank into his very bones and twisted. He dropped to his knees, clutching his chest as his breathing grew shallow. The sludge around the pit bubbled and hissed, reacting to the energy pulsing through him.

"Balance must... be paid..."

The voice—if it even was a voice—was deep and unyielding, speaking directly into his mind. Feng Xiao's jaw clenched, his fists digging into the jagged ground as he tried to ride out the storm inside him. The warmth of the first Pearl merged with the chill of the second, the two forces swirling together in his core. For a brief moment, he felt as though he were being torn apart.

And then it stopped.

Feng Xiao collapsed, his face pressed against the cold ground as his chest heaved. His entire body ached, his arms and legs trembling with exhaustion. But as he lay there, he realized something had changed.

The haze of corruption that had hung over him since his exile into the Valley felt... lighter. The ever-present weight pressing against his body and mind had lifted, if only slightly. He could breathe easier now, the toxic air no longer clawing at his lungs.

The Pearl's whispers faded, leaving only silence in their wake. Feng Xiao rolled onto his back, staring up at the gray, clouded sky. The second Pearl's glow had dimmed, its energy now resting quietly within him, but he could feel its presence alongside the first. They weren't just tools—they were alive, in some strange and terrifying way.

"What the hell are you?" he muttered under his breath, his voice raw.

The Pearls didn't answer. They never did.

Hours passed as Feng Xiao rested near the edge of the pit, gathering what little strength he could. The remains of the Behemoth Trash Spirit had dissolved into the sludge, leaving behind only a faint shimmer of corrupted energy that hung in the air. Feng Xiao stared at the pit's surface, his mind racing with questions.

Why were the Pearls here? What purpose did they serve? And why had they chosen him, of all people?

He reached into his pouch, pulling out the spiritual compass he had restored earlier. The artifact hummed faintly in his hand, its needle spinning erratically as though disoriented by the Valley's overwhelming energy. But as he watched, the needle began to settle, pointing directly toward the pit.

"No way," Feng Xiao muttered. The compass wasn't reacting to the sludge—it was reacting to what lay beneath it.

He knelt at the edge of the pit, his fingers tracing the jagged cracks that lined the ground. The sludge bubbled faintly, the glowing remnants of the Pearl's energy still visible beneath its surface. There was something down there, something the Pearls were connected to.

Feng Xiao hesitated. The idea of diving into the sludge was madness. It was pure corruption, a festering pool of spiritual waste that could eat away at a cultivator's core in seconds. But the compass was insistent, its needle pointing unerringly downward.

His grip tightened around the restored blade at his side. He didn't come to the Valley to die. He came to survive—to prove that he wasn't trash, no matter what the sect had done to him. If the Pearls were his only way out of this wasteland, then he had no choice but to follow their lead.

With a deep breath, Feng Xiao stepped into the sludge.

The corruption hit him like a physical force, the sludge clinging to his skin as he waded deeper into the pit. His body screamed in protest, the corrupted energy seeping into his pores and burning like acid. But the Pearls within him pulsed faintly, their warmth spreading through his body and pushing back the worst of the corruption.

Each step felt heavier than the last, the sludge growing thicker as he descended. The whispers returned, faint and distorted, their voices blending together in a chaotic symphony. Feng Xiao gritted his teeth, his focus narrowing to the glow beneath the sludge.

After what felt like an eternity, his foot hit something solid.

Feng Xiao froze, his breath catching as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. Beneath the surface of the sludge was a stone platform, its surface etched with intricate runes that glowed faintly with pale blue light. The platform was massive, stretching out in all directions as far as he could see.

At the center of the platform was a monolith, a towering structure of black stone that pulsed with an ominous energy. The air around it was thick with the stench of decay, the faint outlines of shattered artifacts scattered at its base.

But what drew Feng Xiao's attention wasn't the monolith itself—it was the faint, shimmering outline of a figure standing before it.

The figure was humanoid, its body composed entirely of flickering light and swirling energy. Its form was indistinct, constantly shifting and reforming as though it couldn't decide on a shape. But its presence was undeniable, its gaze fixed directly on Feng Xiao.

"You've come far," the figure said, its voice echoing in Feng Xiao's mind. "But the path ahead is not one of mercy."

Feng Xiao's grip tightened on his blade. "Who are you?"

"I am a fragment," the figure replied, its voice calm and unyielding. "A shard of what once was. And what will be again."

The Pearls within Feng Xiao pulsed violently, their warmth surging as though reacting to the figure's presence. He staggered back, his chest tightening as the energy within him clashed with the energy radiating from the monolith.

"What do you want?" Feng Xiao demanded, his voice trembling despite himself.

The figure tilted its head, the flickering light of its body intensifying. "You hold the keys to restoration," it said. "But keys are worthless without the strength to turn them. Show me your resolve, or be consumed by the weight of your ambition."

The ground beneath Feng Xiao trembled as the runes on the platform flared to life. The monolith's energy surged outward, the faint outlines of shadowy figures emerging from the darkness.

Trash Spirits. Dozens of them.

Feng Xiao's heart pounded as the Spirits charged toward him, their jagged forms moving with unnatural speed. He raised his blade, the runes on its surface glowing brightly as he channeled the Pearls' energy into it.

The battle was chaos. The Spirits swarmed him from all sides, their clawed hands slicing through the air as he dodged and parried their attacks. The restored talismans at his waist burned brightly as he threw them into the fray, their bursts of energy creating brief openings for him to strike.

But the Spirits were relentless, their corrupted energy seeping into the air and sapping his strength. Feng Xiao's movements grew slower, his attacks less precise as exhaustion set in.

The figure watched in silence, its flickering gaze unyielding.

"You will fall," it said, its voice cold. "Unless you embrace what you are."

Feng Xiao's grip on his blade tightened, his teeth gritting as he forced himself to keep moving. The Pearls within him pulsed violently, their energy surging as though in response to the figure's words.

He didn't know what he was. He didn't care. All he knew was that he wasn't giving up. Not here. Not now.

With a roar of defiance, Feng Xiao channeled every ounce of energy he had into his blade, the weapon glowing brighter than ever before. He lunged forward, his blade slicing through the Spirits like a scythe through wheat.

The runes on the platform flared one final time, and the Spirits dissolved into ash, their forms scattering in the wind.

Feng Xiao collapsed to his knees, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. The figure's light dimmed, its gaze fixed on him as it spoke one last time.

"You have taken your first step," it said. "But the path is long, and the cost will be great. Remember that."

And with that, the figure vanished, leaving Feng Xiao alone in the darkness.