Rebirth of the Weakest

3: Trash Does Not Kneel

In a world ruled by power, the weak either broke, or they turned into something the world could no longer ignore.

Le Ken sat by his mother's bedside long after Wei Zhan had stormed out, turning the same question over and over until it finally slipped past his lips.

"Mom, who is my father?" he asked. "Tell them, and you can take your rightful place as patriarch."

Lady Le Li's hands stilled in her lap. Fear flickered across her face before she managed to smooth it away.

"You are still too weak to know that answer, Le Ken," she said quietly. "You must grow strong first. Only then will you understand what you truly carry inside you."

Ken studied her for a long moment, then folded the contract he had signed and tucked it away without another word. Pushing her would not help either of them right now.

"Is there anything that could speed up my cultivation, mom?" he asked instead. "At this rate, I stand no chance against the elder, let alone his son."

The question broke something in her. Lady Le Li pressed a hand over her mouth, and tears spilled before she could stop them.

"You must hate me," she said, voice cracking. "All of this misfortune, it all traces back to me."

"It is fine, mom," Ken said gently, reaching for her hand. "I will figure this out."

"I am the one who gave you a trash cat spirit," she pressed on, refusing to let herself off the hook. "That is the reason the whole clan mocks you. It is my fault."

Ken's chest tightened watching her fall apart like this. He had only known this version of his mother for a handful of hours, and already the sight of her crying hurt more than the beating he vaguely remembered taking before his coma.

"I used to be a genius of this clan, Ken'er," she went on, staring at nothing. "Born with a Tiger martial spirit. I stayed stuck at the Beast Practitioner stage for years with no explanation. My cultivation simply stopped rising one day, and that failure became my humiliation."

Watching her sink deeper into that memory, Ken decided the topic needed changing before she drowned in it completely.

"So sects are basically like schools around here," he said, forcing lightness into his voice. "If I can get into one, I could actually train properly instead of guessing my way through this. Is there a way in?"

Lady Le Li blinked at the sudden shift, then managed a small, grateful smile.

"Each year, clans host a selection for disciples," she explained. "This year, the quota happens to fall on our own Grand Le Clan. There are five major sects on this continent, the Yulun Sect, the Qilin Sect, the Vermilion Sect, the Luowu Sect, and the Pai Zhua Sect. As it happens, the Pai Zhua Sect will be the one visiting us this year to select new disciples. Every other clan on the continent will be sending their best to compete for a spot as well."

Ken did the math in his head and almost laughed at how little time that left him.

"Eleven months," he said. "Fine. Do not worry, mom. I will reach the Beast Master level before then, and I will be the top disciple representing our clan."

Lady Le Li reached beneath her pillow and pressed a golden token into his palm.

"As successor to the previous patriarch, I still hold certain rights within the clan," she said. "This token grants you entry into the upcoming clan competition. Win a place among the top five, and you earn the right to compete for the sect selection."

Ken closed his fingers around the token, feeling its weight settle into something heavier than metal.

"Wait for me, mom," he said. "I will not disappoint you."

Later, Ken wandered the grounds alone, taking in the full scale of what the Grand Le Clan actually was. Pill Pavilions. Forge Pavilions. Trading halls stacked three stories high. Clansmen moving through every courtyard like the place ran on its own private economy.

"No wonder people call this the greatest clan on the continent," he muttered, half impressed, half exhausted just from walking it.

*Did the Reality God seriously trick me into a world this complicated?* he thought, kicking a loose stone across the path. *I asked for power, not a corporate hierarchy with better swordsmanship.*

He was still lost in that thought when he walked straight into someone's shoulder.

"Watch where you are going," Ken muttered, barely glancing up.

The moment he did look up, his stomach dropped.

Wei Lin stood there with two of his usual shadows flanking him, already grinning like a wolf that had just spotted something limping.

"Well, look at this," Wei Lin said, tilting his head. "The clan bastard actually has the nerve to talk back these days. Maybe he needs another lesson to remember his place."

Before Ken could even respond, Wei Lin's martial spirit erupted around him, a massive green tortoise shell blooming into existence, its presence alone shoving Ken back a full step.

"You broke through again," Ken said, fear creeping into his voice despite himself.

The three of them closed in slowly, clearly enjoying the show more than they needed to actually fight him.

"A level two beast refiner squaring up against a level eleven beast geek," Wei Lin said, cracking his knuckles. "Let us show you exactly what that gap looks like, Le Ken."

Ken tried anyway. He had to. Backing down here would just confirm every insult they had ever thrown at him.

He called on his own spirit, and only a weak, flickering shimmer answered, barely visible, gone as quickly as it appeared. Still, he swung first, going for whatever advantage surprise might buy him.

Wei Lin caught the punch out of the air and slammed one back across Ken's face hard enough to spin him sideways.

"Wu Shen. Mu Zan. Teach this brat some manners," Wei Lin said, already bored.

Wu Shen stepped forward, unleashing a hyena spirit at level eight. Mu Zan followed with a leopard spirit blazing at level ten, peak of his stage.

Ken never stood a chance. He knew that even as the first blow landed, and the ones after that blurred together into a single long stretch of pain. He curled in on himself instinctively, arms up, jaw clenched, refusing to give them the satisfaction of hearing him beg.

*Get up. Get up. You survived being hit by a truck, you idiot, this should not be what breaks you.*

It did not matter. His body simply could not keep pace with theirs.

When it finally ended, Ken lay in the dirt, blood in his mouth, ribs screaming with every breath.

Wei Lin crouched down just close enough to be heard.

"Watch your mouth next time, trash," he said. "In this clan, you are the only one who actually deserves that title. Do not go thinking the patriarch's blood protects you. Unfortunate garbage like you does not belong here."

Then he turned and walked off with his gang trailing behind him, laughing about something already unrelated to Ken entirely, like the beating had barely registered as an event worth remembering.

Ken lay there a long moment before forcing himself up onto shaking arms.

*This is humiliating,* he thought, blinking hard against the sting building behind his eyes. *I died saving a little girl. I died being someone people actually respected, even if my life was boring. And now, I am back to being nothing, all over again.*

Something in his chest cracked wide open, grief and fury tangled together until he could not tell which one hurt worse.

He staggered to his feet and ran, not toward the clan halls, not toward his mother, just away, legs carrying him past startled clansmen and stalls and walls he did not bother to look at. Tears blurred everything into streaks of color until the buildings thinned out completely and trees replaced them.

*You do not have to save me this time,* a voice whispered somewhere in the back of his mind, soft and achingly familiar, though he still could not place whose it was.

He did not stop running until the world around him had gone dark and green and heavy with the smell of wet leaves.

Only then did Ken realize where his feet had carried him.

Towering trees blocked out most of the sky above, their canopy thick enough to swallow daylight whole. Somewhere deep in the underbrush, something large shifted, and the sound alone made every hair on Ken's arms rise at once.

The Canine Forest.

A place clansmen only mentioned in warnings, never in casual conversation.

Ken stood frozen at the tree line, chest heaving, blood still drying on his split lip, and understood with a sudden cold clarity that he had just run himself straight into the one place in this entire world that could actually kill him twice.