The Path Begins

The dense forest loomed around Xian Yu, its ancient trees swaying with an ominous whisper. Night was falling, and with it came a chill that seeped into his bones. He tightened his grip on the rusted dagger he had found earlier that day, a meager defense against the lurking dangers of the wilderness. Xian Yu was an orphan, abandoned by fate and left to fend for himself in a world that thrived on the strong preying upon the weak.

As he ventured deeper into the forest, an eerie silence enveloped him. The usual sounds of nocturnal creatures were conspicuously absent. His instincts prickled with a sense of foreboding. He was on high alert, every step calculated and every rustle scrutinized. Suddenly, he heard a faint groan. It was the sound of someone in pain, barely audible but enough to draw his attention.

Xian Yu followed the sound, his heart pounding in his chest. As he rounded a massive tree, he saw a figure sprawled on the ground. It was an old man, his robes torn and bloodied, his breathing shallow and labored. The man's eyes flickered open as Xian Yu approached, revealing a haunting intensity despite his weakened state.

"Help... me..." the man croaked, reaching out with a trembling hand.

Xian Yu hesitated. Compassion was a luxury he could not afford, yet something about the man's gaze compelled him to stay. He crouched down, eyes scanning the man's injuries. It was clear he wouldn't survive the night without aid.

"Who are you?" Xian Yu asked, his voice guarded.

The man coughed, spitting blood. "It doesn't matter... anymore. What matters... is what I have... for you."

With a feeble motion, the man revealed a small, weathered book from within his robes. Its cover was adorned with strange, intricate symbols that seemed to pulsate with a dark energy. Xian Yu's eyes widened, recognizing the aura of demonic cultivation.

"This manual... contains power... beyond imagination," the old man whispered, his voice growing weaker. "But... it comes with a price."

Xian Yu's mind raced. He had heard tales of demonic cultivation, of the immense power it could grant, but also of the terrible sacrifices it demanded. The allure of power, however, was irresistible. In this world, strength was survival.

"Take it," the man urged. "Use it... to rise above... this wretched existence."

With a final, rattling breath, the old man's hand fell limp, the light in his eyes extinguished. Xian Yu grasped the manual, feeling a surge of energy coursing through him as he did. He knew this was a pivotal moment, one that would define his future.

He stood, staring at the lifeless body before him. "Thank you," he murmured, though he doubted the man could hear him in the afterlife.

The forest seemed to close in around him, the shadows growing longer and darker. He opened the manual, his fingers trembling with anticipation. The pages were filled with ancient scripts and diagrams, detailing rituals and techniques that promised unimaginable power. As he read, a fierce determination took root in his heart.

Hours passed like minutes, and by the time he closed the book, Xian Yu had made his decision. He would pursue this path of demonic cultivation. He would harness its power to climb out of the pitiful life he had been dealt. But he knew that the path he chose was not one of mercy or kindness. It was a path of ruthlessness and ambition, where only the strong thrived.

The first step on this dark journey presented itself sooner than he expected. Returning to the orphanage, Xian Yu was acutely aware of the stark contrast between his newfound resolve and the familiar squalor of his surroundings. The other orphans were huddled around a feeble fire, their faces gaunt and eyes hollow from hunger. Among them was Xiao Mei, a girl slightly younger than him but shrewd and resourceful. She had always managed to procure more food and better shelter than the rest, traits that had earned her both respect and envy.

As the night deepened, Xian Yu approached Xiao Mei. "I need to talk to you," he said, his voice steady but cold.

She eyed him warily, sensing something different in his demeanor. "What is it?"

"Come with me," he insisted, leading her away from the others. They stopped behind a dilapidated shed, where the shadows concealed them from prying eyes.

"What's this about, Xian Yu?" Xiao Mei asked, her suspicion growing.

"I need your supplies," he stated bluntly.

Xiao Mei's eyes narrowed. "You know I can't just give them to you. We're all struggling to survive here."

Xian Yu took a deep breath. The old man's words echoed in his mind. "Use it to rise above this wretched existence." He knew what he had to do, but it didn't make it any easier. Summoning his resolve, he stepped closer, his voice a harsh whisper. "I'm not asking, Xiao Mei. I'm taking them."

Fear flashed in her eyes, quickly replaced by defiance. "You've changed, Xian Yu. This isn't you."

"Maybe not," he replied, gripping his dagger tightly. "But it's who I need to be."

Before she could react, he lunged. The blade sank into her side, and she gasped, eyes wide with shock and pain. He pressed his hand over her mouth, muffling her cries as he pushed the dagger deeper. The act felt both surreal and horrifying, each moment stretching into an eternity.

When it was over, Xiao Mei lay lifeless at his feet, her eyes staring blankly into the void. Xian Yu's hands trembled as he wiped the blood from his dagger. His heart pounded in his chest, but he forced himself to remain composed. He rifled through her belongings, taking the food and small trinkets she had hoarded.

As he stood over her body, a mixture of guilt and exhilaration surged through him. This was his first act of true ruthlessness, a necessary step on the path he had chosen. He knew that the road ahead would demand even greater sacrifices, but the power he sought was worth any price.

Returning to the orphanage, Xian Yu felt a profound change within him. The other orphans looked at him with a mixture of fear and respect, sensing the shift in his aura. He had taken his first step towards power, and there was no turning back.

In the silence of the night, Xian Yu opened the demonic cultivation manual once more. He traced the symbols with his fingers, feeling the dark energy resonate with his soul. This was just the beginning. He would rise above his circumstances, wielding the power of demons to carve his own destiny. And anyone who stood in his way would meet the same fate as Xiao Mei.

The path had begun, and Xian Yu was determined to walk it to the very end, no matter the cost.