The snowstorm howled like a wild beast.

  In the heart of the mountains, a boy no older than fifteen knelt at the temple gates.

  His clothes were thin, his lips purple, his body trembling.

  “Please… let me in…”

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  But the ancient gates remained shut, as if mocking his weakness.

  Just when the boy was about to lose consciousness—

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  The warmth surged through his veins like a rising tide.

  At that moment, he stood.

  Not as a beggar.

  But as someone chosen… by the heavens.