1 Innocent Or Wicked?

"Zen! What are you doing?"

Demanded Elder Jiang as he observed the four crushed disciples. They were beaten so severely that even their mothers wouldn't be able to identify them.

As for Zen, he was about to slam his elbow into the fifth disciple, but hearing the Elder's question, he stopped.

With a respectful expression, he cupped his hands and answered, "I was helping senior brothers."

Elder Jiang was stupefied.

Not only because of the shocking answer, but because Zen then continued what he was doing.

He slammed his elbow into the face of the dumbstruck disciple, whose mouth sprayed out blood and teeth as he crashed on the floor.

Elder Jiang couldn't believe this was happening before his eyes.

If it was done by some arrogant disciple, he would have killed by now.

But the one who did was a disciple who was both naïve and innocent.

He knew it because he has personally recruited Zen from a backwater village.

Due to non-existent contact with the outside world, Zen had a limited worldview and lacked an understanding of many things that were rather obvious to everyone else.

Still, Elder Jiang took him into the sect as he has the talent to cultivate.

Now seeing the scene playing before his eyes, he wondered if he was deceived.

Surely, that was impossible.

"Urgh!"

A painful grunt awakened Elder Jiang from his thoughts, and he looked at the five disciples. They looked back at him, and even though no clear words came out of their broken mouths, he knew they were demanding justice.

He then gazed at the surrounding where a crowd of disciples was shivering. They have witnessed the entire process of Zen "helping" those senior brothers.

A frown appeared on his face as he finally brought his eyes back to Zen. In a stern tone, he commanded, "Tell me why you decided to 'help' them… for clarity, start from the time you had gone to collect water."

Zen nodded and politely narrated the chain of events.

✺✺✺

Arcane Light Sect was vast and majestic. It enjoyed a significant status in the world of magical practitioners called cultivators. The sect's domineering buildings were built on nine grand mountains, covered with spiritual mist. Amidst them, there were countless streams, flowing with crystal-clean water.

A few hours ago, Zen arrived before one of these streams. He filled two pots with the water and then sat on the lush carpet of green.

The beautiful scenery and the serenity gave him the opportunity to wonder about his life.

"Before mom and dad died in the plague, they begged me to live a life full of happiness. Even though it has been years, I still don't know what happiness means."

He mused while staring at the clear, bright sky. A smile appeared on his lips as a flock of birds appeared and whistled through the air.

"Is it to be free and unfettered like them?"

He shook his head as he reminded himself the birds were not really free. Most often, they flew not out of choice but necessity.

Predators, food, weather… there were just far many restrictions for them.

"Then, they are just like me!"

His smile turned bitter as he recalled events from around six months ago. Elder Jiang had passed through his village and decided to conduct a test to recruit youngsters capable of cultivating.

Like everyone else in the village, he was a mortal. But just like them, he knew a bit about the mystic cultivators.

Because his village worshipped them as their gods and hidden protectors.

Naturally, he was excited at the prospect of becoming a cultivator and gaining magical powers.

With great difficulties, he passed the test and was selected, albeit barely.

Only after coming to the sect did he realize his excitement was unfounded.

The foundation for every cultivator was Dao Seed. It existed within every living organism, but only a few could germinate it and start cultivating.

Alas, his Dao Seed was on the verge of collapse.

Since he was from a poor background, he never had the resources to take care of his body and provide vitality to the seed. Even if not for that, he didn't know of this so-called Dao Seed, so how could he have taken care of it?

While there were medicinal liquids that could revitalize Dao Seed, such medicines were far too costly. Something no sect would invest on a kid from a mortal background.

Still, since he was recruited, he was allowed to cultivate. This made his face revert back to the cheerful state.

"For now, happiness is finding a silver lining!"

At the same time, in the dark recess of space, a beam of white light emerged. Carrying Scroll of Eternity and Brush of Creation, the beam grazed past countless worlds.

No one detected its presence, not even Celestial Monarchs. The beam entered a world that resembled a mirror and shot down.

It was hard to say if it was a coincidence, but the beam submerged into Zen. The scroll branded itself onto his soul while the brush appeared as an illusory tattoo on his right wrist.

Since his wrist was hidden by the sleeve, he didn't notice it. Even if not for that, it was hard to say he would detect it given he remained oblivious to the branding process and the dense energy hurricane that rose up from him.

"I should return!"

Zen thought as he got on his feet and took the pots.

Soon, he returned to the courtyard where the outer court disciples lived. He submitted the pot of waters, and after registering his presence, he started walking to his quarters.

"You are a new disciple, right?"

A group of five disciples stopped some thirty meters before him.

"Yes?" answered Zen.

"You are lucky!" proclaimed the chief among them – Ken.

"Huh? Lucky?"

Zen was confused.

"Yes, lucky!" Another disciple – Amir – took over the explanation. "As you know, Body Tempering is the first stage of cultivation. It exists to provide Dao Seed a stable foundation to germinate. That's why we call the first stage Foundation Establishment as well."

Zen nodded. He was at the first layer of Body Tempering, and he obviously knew its importance.

Milan suppressed himself from smiling as he added, "And you are lucky because we are giving you the golden opportunity to temper your body at lightning speed!"

"How?" asked bewildered Zen.

In the meantime, the other disciples that were carrying out the chores stopped and looked at Zen. Seeing him confronted by the five disciples they knew well, gleeful looks appeared on their faces.

What do people desire the most? It was to see others suffer, especially when they have suffered themselves!

These five disciples have lived in the outer sect for over seven years. And every few weeks, they would target a few unlucky people to vent their frustration for their lack of progress in cultivation.

The sect allowed it because it helped in cultivation. After all, bullying could serve as extra motivation to get stronger. Of course, it only helped a handful among thousands, but that was enough.

As for the rest, they waned and declined, but the sect didn't care. If one couldn't handle even this much suffering, how will they face Celestial Punishment and deadly battles?

"Iron is refined by hammering! The process makes it more durable and enhances its properties!" answered Ken. "As your senior brothers, we don't mind revealing to you that the same applies to cultivation!"

"You mean the secret to tempering bodies is fighting?" inquired a curious Zen.

"Yeap," replied Milan. "Hammering benefits both iron and hammer, and the same applies to all of us when we help in tempering each other!"

"Oh!" Zen's eyes twinkled with enlightenment.

Ken and others almost broke out in laughter.

This kid is so stupid! He was really swindled by their bullshit explanation!

"Since you are younger than us, I will allow you to be the hammer!"

Ken stood with his hands folded behind his back. He was at the sixth layer of Body Tempering and, as such, exuded the presence of an expert.

"And remember, the hammer never stops till it completes its task!"

Obviously, Ken was crafty. He wanted to use this remark after the "hammering process" takes a dramatic turn and Zen would be forced to beg.

"I understand, senior brother."

Zen nodded and got ready to charge. Just then, his field of vision changed. Everything now seemed to be made of watercolors, even Ken and other disciples.

It was like he was watching a painting instead of a real-life scene.

Zen was shocked. He rubbed his eyes, but the world continued to be a painting.

"What's wrong with my eyes?"

He looked at Ken, whose figure was made of black watercolor, with five red spots of different intensity.

The red spots almost seemed to tell him they were the areas he should concentrate.

"Junior brother! We don't have the entire day to spend on you!" warned an impatient Ken.

"Ah… yes! I apologize!"

Zen didn't want to waste the time of these kind-hearted senior brothers. So, he charged forward while trying to get used to this new vision.

Ken's lips curved up as he saw Zen making a fist.

"So predictable!"

Ken raised his right hand to grab the incoming fist. He could imagine the crunching sound the bones will release.

CRUNCH!

There was a loud crunching sound, but it wasn't of bones and didn't come from Zen. Instead, it emerged from him.

At the last second, instead of punching, Zen lifted his right leg and, with everything he got, violently kneed in the most glaring red spot.

The balls.

"AHHHHH!"

A heart-wrenching scream left Ken's mouth. His vision darkened, and he started slipping to the floor. Before he could fully, the fist he previously was about to grab hit his nose.

Blood spurted out, and his eyes erupted with tears from resulting nerve-wracking pain. With another scream, his head banged the floor.

"What the hell!" Milan and others were shocked

This wasn't a part of the script!

They barely managed to think this, and within that time, Zen launched multiple attacks on injured Ken. He made sure to target all the red spots, and Ken couldn't help but beg him to stop.

"Senior brother, the hammer can't stop before the task is completed!" reminded Zen. "These spots are your weakest, and the hammering will temper them!"

"This kid!" Milan pounced forward.

Just then, every color in Zen's field of vision faded and moved behind him.

He stopped thrashing Ken and rapidly turned to follow the colors. Without them, he was no different than a blind man.

After turning, he was able to see but only the figure of Milan, who was in mid-air. There was a glaring red spot around his throat, and he knew what that signified.

Jumping in the air, he pulled his right leg to his chest before slamming it out.

"How could his reflexes be so fast?!" Milan was caught off-guard. His attack failed and the kick struck into his throat.

BAM!

Vomiting blood and spit, he crashed on the floor, creating cracks.

His neck was twisted, and if he was an ordinary human, he would have died. This didn't mean he was lucky as another kick rammed into his balls.

A sharp pain broke through him, and he released the most anguished scream a man was ever capable of.

"Senior brother, don't scream! This spot of yours is fragile!" said Zen as he lifted his leg. "It could only mean you didn't temper it well! But fear not, I will help you!"

He stomped again into the shattered balls. Milan's eyes popped out, and he lost consciousness.

The spectators retreated.

"Are you all seeing what I'm seeing?!" A thirty-year-old cultivator asked his friends.

"If what you are seeing defies logic, then yes!" Answered one of his friends while covering his crotch with his hands.

"Same!"

The others agreed, their eyes staring at the crushed balls of poor bullies. Seeing their condition, they also protected their own balls while uttering words of pity.

"Shut up!" Amir turned to cast a fierce glare at them.

"Why are you angry at us?" The cultivator from before asked. "We are not the one destroying the future happiness of your friends!"

"You...!" Amir stopped as he knew the cultivator was right. He focused back on Zen and his friends.

It was always them who bullied others and beat everyone black and blue. Yet, this barely eighteen-year-old kid dared to ruin the family jewels of his friends!

"He will pay the price!"

Mad from rage, Amir aimed his right hand at Zen. The band on his wrist glowed, and metallic spikes started emerging.

The band was a cheap item that didn't even qualify to be called a battle artifact. In typical situations, he wouldn't use it as the spikes were capable of stabbing to death. Now he didn't care.

Anyone who dares to spoil the future of his friends didn't deserve to live!

"Are you out of your mind?!"

The onlookers were alarmed, but by the time they could warn, a shower of spikes was about to shot out.

Swish~!

Just then, Zen swiftly turned towards Amir.

"!!!"

Amir was frightened.

He didn't know if he was hallucinating, but he saw Zen wielding a brush that seemed to be engraved with runic patterns.

An unclear scroll appeared before Zen, and with a movement of his hand, thousands of demons burst out of it.

These demons orchestrated a genocide, creating an ocean of crimson blood for the brush to dip in and paint!

Amir was incapable of seeing further. Just this much stabbed into his mind like daggers. His knees buckled, and he crashed on the floor.

"Huh?"

Zen was startled.

Why did Amir suddenly collapse without unleashing those spikes?

While he didn't know the answer, he knew he has to help.

So, he arrived before unconscious Amir and brutally stomped on the spot where the thighs joined.

"UWAAHHHH!"

Amir bounced up, his eyes wide open in terror.

He has regained consciousness!

"It worked!"

Zen's eyes sparkled.

Still, he has a job to do, and he couldn't stop now.

"Senior brother, what happened to you?" asked Zen as a swinging strike from him sent Amir back to the floor.

"Ppff!"

Amir answered by spurting blood.

Some distance away, the two remaining senior brothers were horrified.

Just what was happening here?! How could this kid defeat those far stronger than him!?

"By targeting the fragile spots!"

They answered their own questions as they glanced at the broken balls of their friends. Their courage broke, and they decided to retreat.

Avenging friends could wait. First, they have to save their own future!

"Please don't leave!" requested Zen.

Before today, he never really fought, so he wasn't aware of his strength or agility. And only because of the help from these kind souls did he learn he wasn't weak despite having an almost collapsed Dao Seed.

So, how could he not return the favor?

"Please let us help each other!"

Begged Zen as he punched and kicked one retreating senior brother after the other.

✺✺✺

"That's when you arrived and asked me what I was doing!"

Zen completed the narration.

"This..." Elder Jiang didn't know how to react. If the narration was to be believed, this new disciple wasn't at fault.

Hearing no response from the Elder, Zen turned towards his fallen senior brothers. With a polite smile, he bowed to them and said, "Thank you for helping me! You are the best senior brothers!"

Senior brothers, who couldn't speak: "..........."

Elder Jiang, who could speak: ".............…"