The world smelled of wet soil and cold stone. The sky, though fractured in memory, now stretched vast and serene above the mountains, soft light spilling across the trees and rivers below. Kaen Arvalis blinked once, twice, and coughed. His lungs filled with air that was sharper, cleaner, than any he could recall. For a moment, he wondered if he had been dreaming or if the Abyss had been cruel enough to grant him rest before the final erasure.
Yet the body he now occupied was not the one scorched by the fires of his sins. He was young again, perhaps fifteen, lean and untested. Limbs unscarred, eyes bright, hair dark and untouched by time. And yet, within him, the memories of a life long ended burned as vividly as if he had died just moments ago.
"A hundred years earlier… a hundred years before it all fell apart," Kaen whispered, testing his voice. It sounded unpracticed, untrained but unmistakably his own.
He stood in a narrow training yard, the wooden walls of the Celestial Abyss Sect rising around him like guardians frozen in time. The scent of incense mingled with damp earth, birds called from the trees, and the faint hum of spiritual energy lingered in the air. The world was peaceful. Innocent. Yet to Kaen, it was a treacherous façade.
He flexed his fingers. The energy inside him the Soul Resonance, tinged with remnants of Abyssal corruption stirred. He tried to suppress it, to hide it from the eyes of those who had once been his companions, mentors, and would-be victims. I must be careful, he thought. If I act recklessly… even one mistake… and the cycle begins anew.
Students were already gathered, practicing basic cultivation forms. Their movements precise, disciplined. Some were chanting quietly, others sparring with wooden weapons. One boy caught his attention a fiery, stubborn youth struggling with a spinning sword form. His movements were clumsy, yet his spirit fierce. Kaen felt a pang of nostalgia. That had been him once. That had been everyone before tragedy reshaped their fates.
The boy glanced at him, eyes wide, and bowed slightly. "Good morning, Brother Kaen," he said, voice trembling.
Kaen froze. Brother Kaen? Memories surged like tides against a dam. In this timeline, he was no longer the fallen prodigy; he was just a young disciple, unknown yet. Unknown, but with memories older than the mountains themselves.
"Morning," Kaen replied quietly, keeping his tone casual. "Focus on your form."
Inside, his mind raced. He could not reveal what he knew not yet. The slightest hint, the wrong word, and the delicate strands of fate would unravel.
The master of the sect, Elder Myrion, appeared at the training yard. Tall, imposing, robes flowing like liquid silver. His eyes were sharp, a gaze that cut deeper than any blade. Even Kaen, with all the knowledge of his past, could not suppress a shiver.
"Kaen Arvalis," Elder Myrion said, voice firm. "Your spiritual core has potential, but raw talent alone does not a cultivator make. Today, you shall face your first test."
The test was simple on paper: extract the energy from a spirit stone and stabilize it within the Soul Core. But Kaen knew better. Spirit stones were unpredictable, and for an untrained soul… dangerous.
He stepped forward. His hands brushed the smooth stone, and the energy surged through him. Immediately, he felt the pull the remnants of Abyssal energy, dark, whispering, tugging at his consciousness.
Do not falter, the voice of the Abyss murmured. You will need me. You cannot survive alone.
Kaen clenched his fists, fighting both the stone's raw power and the dark whispers. The other disciples gasped as sparks of energy flared around his body. His hair lifted slightly from static, eyes glowing faintly with an otherworldly light. Elder Myrion's gaze softened slightly. "Interesting… this boy… has spirit beyond his years."
Later that day, Kaen walked the corridors of the sect. Statues of past masters, robed in marble, lined the walls. Their faces were stern, unmoving but to Kaen, they seemed alive. He imagined their whispers, their judgments: Do not fail us again, Kaen. Do not let the world fall into shadow.
He paused at the training hall door, hearing muffled voices inside. Two older disciples spoke of rumors about the rise of an unknown cultivator in a neighboring sect, an ominous darkness gathering in the mountains, and strange fluctuations in spiritual energy. Kaen's pulse quickened. He knew the signs. The timeline was already shifting. Even here, even now, the consequences of his past life threatened to manifest earlier than expected.
Patience, he whispered to himself. One step at a time. Strength first. Knowledge second. Redemption… last.
A sudden movement caught his eye: a shadow flitting along the rooftops. He squinted. Nothing? Or something? The Abyss had taught him to see beyond the veil. He crouched, spirit energy flaring just enough to sense the air around him. Yes. Something was there. Watching. Waiting.
Kaen smiled faintly, a shadow of the man he would become. Let it come. I am ready.
As the sun dipped behind the mountains, painting the sky in shades of violet and gold, Kaen sat alone by a small pond in the training courtyard. The water was still, mirroring his youthful face. Yet in his eyes burned the knowledge of countless deaths, countless sins.
He dipped a hand into the water. Ripples distorted the reflection. Every soul I once destroyed… every bond I broke… I will make right, he promised. The words were soft, almost drowned by the chirping of crickets and the whisper of wind.
Deep within, the Abyss stirred. Do not lie to yourself. Without me, you are weak. You will fail. And all will burn again.
Kaen inhaled, steadying himself. He would not be ruled by the Abyss not yet. First, he would grow. First, he would learn. Every mistake he avoided now would prevent tragedy later. Yet a part of him knew the path would not be gentle. Redemption demanded sacrifice. And soon, the first trial of that path would arrive.
Night fell. Lanterns flickered across the sect. Kaen lay on the roof, gazing at the fractured stars above. Somewhere beyond the mountains, the Abyss whispered, and destiny shifted. Tomorrow, the world would begin testing him. He would meet friends and foes, allies and enemies, all unaware that he carried the knowledge and sins of a life that had already ended.
The Redeemer is reborn, he murmured. And I will not fail this time.
Beneath the silent stars, a ripple of energy surged across the continent. Across valleys, across rivers, across mountains. Somewhere, someone or something was watching Kaen Arvalis. And a plan long in motion began to unfold.
The journey of the Redeemer had begun.