Tales Of The Exiled Immortal

CHAPTER 4

"When did I ever agree to a fight in a month?" Rain let out a short laugh, shaking his head in amusement as he leaned against the shut door, a strange warmth curling in his chest.

It wasn’t the kind of satisfaction that came from victory, it was something deeper. A quiet thrum in his bones, as though the body itself had let out a breath of relief.

"Looks like the poor bastard that owned this body suffered like hell," Rain muttered, his voice low and reflective. His eyes glinted with something sharp, and dangerous.

"Don’t worry," he added, walking back to the ragged straw bed with calm, precise steps. "I’ll collect every last debt they owe you... with interest."

He sat cross-legged, posture perfectly straight, and sank once again into cultivation.

Seconds turned to minutes and the stillness in the room deepened.

But then, barely five minutes in, Rain’s eyes snapped open. A cold, bitter frown settled on his face.

"This is worse than I thought," he muttered.

The energy flow in his body was sluggish. Trying to circulate Qi through these damn meridians was like forcing water through cracked, mud-filled pipes. Each pulse of energy was slow, blocked, distorted, it was like crawling through drying clay.

Murky, sluggish and useless.

At this rate, even if he cultivated for a hundred lifetimes, he wouldn’t reach the Foundation Establishment Realm. Let alone rise high enough to ever challenge the Heavenly Emperor.

Rain exhaled slowly.

First thing’s first, he had to fix this body cause he couldn’t build a fortress on rotting wood.

If the meridians weren’t cleared, if the body wasn’t restored to even basic functioning, then any form of cultivation would be a complete waste of time.

And there was no time to waste.

The Five-Year Entry Trial was only a month away.

That trial wasn’t just another competition, it was a purge.

Any disciple who hadn’t broken through to the Foundation Establishment Realm after spending ten years in the sect would be thrown out like trash.

And if you wanted to stay after being kicked out because of how cruel the outside world is, you became a servant. A dog. Cleaning latrines, serving elders, living off scraps.

Rain narrowed his eyes. He’d rather die than wear a servant’s robes.

He stood up, stretched out the stiffness from his limbs, and walked over to the tiny wooden drawer in the corner of the room.

"Let’s see what this brat managed to squirrel away," he muttered, pulling it open.

Then froze.

"What the fuck?" Rain blinked.

The drawer was filled to the brim with shimmering gold coins. Neatly stacked, overflowing the corners.

"Over a thousand gold coins?" he muttered in disbelief, staring as if the gold might vanish if he blinked.

No points in the sect contribution system, yet this much wealth, something didn’t add up.

"Did he... trade all his sect points for this?" Rain rubbed his chin, still staring.

Possible, but unlikely.

In the Glory Dome Sect, points were gold. They could be exchanged for anything, from cultivation pills to secret techniques, even treasures but they weren’t easy to earn.

You needed to complete missions to get points and most missions required a minimum of late-stage Qi Refining Realm.

This brat was stuck in middle-stage for ten damn years.

There was no way he earned enough points for this kind of wealth.

So how the hell did he get it?

Rain’s eyes darkened slightly.

"Just how did you manage this... and what else are you hiding, kid?"

“Arghhh!”

Rain collapsed to the ground without warning, clutching his head as a sharp, splitting pain tore through his skull. It came out of nowhere, fast, brutal, and overwhelming like someone had stabbed his brain with a thousand jagged needles all at once.

He barely managed to bite back a scream.

The pain wasn’t as devastating as what he’d endured during the abyss but the suddenness made it worse. His knees hit the cold floor, vision blurring as a torrent of memories surged violently into his mind and then silence.

The pain faded as quickly as it came, and Rain was left breathing heavily, body trembling slightly, sweat clinging to his skin.

"What the hell was that?" he muttered, his voice hoarse.

Then the new memories settled, clear and vivid as day.

A smirk curled his lips.

“So… that’s who you were.”

The boy whose body he now inhabited had been more than just a weak sect disciple, he was much more.

He came from an aristocratic family in the Spirit Realm. Not just any branch but the main line. Born with mediocre talent, yes, but spoiled and protected by his father, the family head. A father who gave him everything, rare pills, ancient scrolls, even risked offending elders to gather materials to awaken his dormant bloodline.

But love breeds envy.

His older brothers hated him. They feared that their father's favoritism would one day put this 'trash' above them.

So, they plotted.

They turned everyone against him, tore down his reputation, made him a laughingstock. His life became a prison, a slow erosion of pride and worth. In the end, his father, seeing the malice tightening around his youngest son, quietly smuggled him away to the Mortal Realm.

Not to exile him but to save him.

To give him a second chance, a quiet life or the time and freedom to grow strong and return to take back what was his but that plan failed too.

He joined Glory Dome Sect… and wasted ten years stagnating.

All because his meridians were blocked, all because no one here knew who he truly was.

All because the pain of betrayal buried itself so deep inside him… he forgot it even happened until now.

Rain chuckled, the sound cold and sharp.

"Talk about revenge, huh..."

His fingers twitched. His body trembled but not from weakness. No, this was something else.

Anger and it was not his.

The original owner’s fury was still buried deep in this flesh, clinging to his soul like chains. An obsession, a desperate craving for vengeance that had kept the boy alive all these years, even when his body failed him.

Rain could feel it now. Burning.

"And yet, with trash talent and clogged meridians, you were still dreaming of revenge?" Rain shook his head with a scoff, the mockery in his voice bitter but tinged with respect.

"It would've taken you a thousand years. If you even lived that long. And by the time you get strong enough, all your enemies will be long gone. Ascended. Or rotting bones."

He looked down at his trembling hands, the residue of that anger still humming in his veins.

"But you held on. Somehow."

Rain paused, then placed a hand on his chest.

"Let it go now. You’ve done enough. I’ll carry it from here. I’ll make sure your mother sees you return, strong, proud, and terrifying."

The moment those words left his lips, something shifted, a weight lifted from his soul, his chest felt lighter and his mind clearer.

He could feel it, like a storm inside him had suddenly calmed and that lingering obsession… it had unraveled.

A wisp of the original owner’s soul had been tangled with that hatred, embedded deep enough to sometimes seize control of Rain’s body whenever those old wounds were triggered. It made Rain feel off-balance, as though he were sharing his body with a ghost.

But now, that wisp faded and with it, the choking grip of another man’s rage.

The obsession didn't vanish completely, it was still etched in the marrow of this body, a scar carved into its very being but it would no longer control him.

It was his now, his rage and his mission.

"I’ll take your enemies one by one," Rain muttered, rising slowly from the floor, his gaze steely, unfazed. “And I’ll make sure they remember your name when they’re kneeling beneath mine.”

And with that vow, Rain took his first full breath not just as the inheritor of this body, but as its rightful owner.