Pain did not come all at once.
It arrived in layers—first as disbelief, then as cold clarity, and finally as a silence so deep it swallowed even hatred.
Chen Yunche stood beneath the shattered dome of the Heavenly Vault Pavilion, blood pooling at his feet, the world's spiritual veins screaming as the supreme treasure map in his hands burned with blinding light. This was it. The culmination of ten thousand years of cultivation. The key to stepping beyond the Supreme Dao Realm. The promise of eternity.
And the blade that pierced his heart came from behind.
It was precise. Familiar. Gentle, even.
Just like her.
"Why…?" Chen Yunche asked softly, though he already knew the answer.
His beloved wife—no, the woman he had called his wife—stood behind him, her face calm, eyes bright with a greed she no longer bothered to hide. The sword in her hand trembled slightly, not from fear, but from excitement.
"With this map," she said, withdrawing the blade, "one Supreme Dao is enough. Two would be redundant."
The world tilted. The light of the treasure map surged, no longer acknowledging him as its master. Chen Yunche laughed, a hoarse, broken sound.
So this was his ending.
Born with immeasurable beauty that drew envy and desire alike. Cultivated with merely average talent, each step hard-earned through blood and time. Ten thousand years of perseverance, loyalty, and love—repaid with betrayal the moment he touched the heavens.
Darkness swallowed him.
Yet, in that darkness, something stirred.
---
Ding.
The sound was neither male nor female, neither warm nor cold. It was absolute.
System core detected irreversible host death condition.
Triggering hidden regression protocol.
Chen Yunche's consciousness, which should have dissipated into nothingness, was seized by an unseen force. Time itself screamed as if offended.
Calculating regression parameters…
Regression target confirmed.
Temporal displacement: One million years.
"What…?" Chen Yunche tried to speak, but his voice was stripped away as his soul was torn free from the collapsing present.
The universe folded.
---
He woke up choking on air.
Real air. Thick with ancient spiritual essence, so dense it pressed against his skin like water. His chest heaved violently as he sucked it in, the taste unfamiliar yet deeply nostalgic.
Chen Yunche sat upright with a gasp.
The first thing he noticed was his body.
Young.
Not the weathered form shaped by countless tribulations, but a lean, unscarred body at the threshold of adulthood. His hands were smooth, long-fingered, pale as polished jade. When he touched his face, his skin was firm, flawless—too flawless.
He staggered to his feet and looked down at a nearby pool of clear water.
The reflection staring back at him was enough to steal breath.
Immeasurable beauty.
Eyes like deep starlit lakes, brows sharp yet elegant, features so perfectly balanced they seemed sculpted by the Dao itself. This was the face that had followed him all his life, the face that drew jealousy from men and obsession from women.
The face of Chen Yunche… one million years ago.
His heart pounded.
"I… went back?"
The surrounding world answered him.
Ancient mountains rose like sleeping dragons, their peaks shrouded in primordial mist. Spiritual beasts roared in the distance, their auras wild and unrefined. The air trembled with untamed Dao laws, raw and violent, unpolished by civilization.
This was not just the past.
This was the ancient era—before sects dominated the heavens, before Supreme Daos were clearly defined, before the path of cultivation had been neatly carved.
One million years before his betrayal.
One million years before everything.
Chen Yunche's knees nearly buckled.
Then—
Ding.
The familiar sound echoed again, steady and undeniable.
Regression successful.
Host identity confirmed: Chen Yunche.
Time anchor stabilized.
"So you came with me too…" Chen Yunche murmured.
The system.
The silent companion that had followed him since his first step into cultivation. It had never spoken much, never guided him like the legendary systems of myths. It had only given him one function.
The Plus Button.
And yet, that single function had allowed him to survive where geniuses fell.
Hidden achievements unlocked due to extreme fate deviation.
Evaluating…
The space before Chen Yunche's eyes shimmered, translucent blue runes forming lines of text.
---
Achievement Unlocked: Against-Heaven Luck
Description: Survived a fate that guaranteed annihilation. Defied the predetermined conclusion of the timeline.
Achievement Unlocked: Betrayal
Description: Experienced ultimate betrayal by a bound karmic partner at the peak of destiny.
Achievement Unlocked: Supreme Dao Realm
Description: Once stood at the apex of cultivation and comprehended a Supreme Dao.
Achievement Unlocked: One Million Year Life
Description: Existence has crossed a temporal boundary exceeding one million years.
---
Each line struck like thunder.
Chen Yunche's breathing slowed, his mind sharpening with each word. These were not simple titles. They were acknowledgments from the system itself—proof that his past life was not a dream.
Achievements confirmed.
Reward distribution initiated.
The runes rearranged themselves, glowing brighter.
---
System Functions Unlocked:
1. Supreme Sword Inner World (Active)
2. [Locked] Realm Insufficient
3. [Locked] Realm Insufficient
4. [Locked] Realm Insufficient
---
Chen Yunche's pupils constricted.
"Supreme Sword… Inner World?"
Before he could ask, information flooded his mind.
An independent world, bound to his soul. A realm of pure sword intent and Dao foundations. Time within flowed one thousand times faster than the outside world.
One day outside.
Nearly three years inside.
A breath caught in his throat.
This was not a reward.
This was an opportunity so obscene it bordered on blasphemy.
And the other three functions?
Locked.
Even after reaching the Supreme Dao Realm in his past life, his realm now was nothing. The system judged him by the present, not memory.
Chen Yunche clenched his fist.
"Fair."
Then another line appeared, quieter, yet infinitely more familiar.
---
Primary System Function: Plus Button
Effect: Allows the host to increase the duration of any applied effect to infinity and strengthen its potency.
---
The same function.
The same silent, terrifying authority over effects.
In his past life, he had used it cautiously—too cautiously. Extending buffs, stabilizing breakthroughs, strengthening temporary pills. Enough to survive, not enough to dominate.
He laughed softly.
A low, dangerous sound.
"I was too afraid," he said. "Afraid of standing out. Afraid of attracting enemies."
Afraid of betrayal.
The ancient wind swept through the mountains, carrying the cries of beasts and the whispers of Dao.
Chen Yunche straightened his back.
"One million years," he said calmly. "This time… I won't walk the same path."
He closed his eyes.
"Enter Supreme Sword Inner World."
The world shattered like glass.
---
He stood on an endless plain of silver-white light.
The sky above was not a sky, but a vast ocean of sword intent—countless invisible blades humming with absolute sharpness. The ground beneath his feet was smooth obsidian, etched with ancient sword runes that pulsed faintly with rhythm, like a heartbeat.
This world felt… obedient.
As if it acknowledged him as its master without question.
Time here flowed differently. He could feel it. Each breath carried weight. Each thought lingered longer, deeper.
Chen Yunche took a slow step forward.
"In my past life," he murmured, "my talent was average. My foundation… barely above common."
He extended his hand.
A thread of sword intent flickered into existence—weak, unstable, barely worthy of the name.
He smiled.
"Then let's start with that."
The Plus Button shimmered faintly in his consciousness.
He pressed it.
---
Target detected: Sword Intent (Initial Grade)
Effect: Strengthening and duration extension.
Duration: ∞
Potency: Amplifying…
The thread of sword intent trembled.
Then it screamed.
What had been a fragile wisp exploded into a roaring current, slicing the air with a shrill cry. The entire inner world responded, sword runes blazing as if awakened from eternal sleep.
Chen Yunche's eyes widened—not in shock, but in fierce satisfaction.
The intent did not dissipate.
It did not weaken.
It stabilized, solid, eternal, as if it had always existed.
He laughed.
Loudly this time.
"So that's how it is," he said, voice echoing across the silver plain. "An infinite foundation… from the very beginning."
Outside, in the ancient world, only a few breaths passed.
Inside the Supreme Sword Inner World—
Chen Yunche took his first true step toward a future where betrayal would no longer be possible.
Because this time, he would stand so high that even heaven would need permission to scheme against him.
Two days.
Within the Supreme Sword Inner World, two days passed like drifting leaves—quiet, relentless, irreversible.
Outside, in the ancient world of a million years ago, not even a single incense stick had fully burned.
Chen Yunche sat cross-legged at the center of the silver-white plain, his back straight as a drawn sword. His breathing was slow, steady, each inhale pulling vast quantities of sword-aspected spiritual essence into his meridians. Each exhale expelled impurities so fine they resembled gray mist, dispersing the moment they touched the air.
His eyes were closed, but his mind was clearer than it had ever been.
This inner world was perfect.
No distractions.
No hostile Dao suppression.
No tribulation lightning.
No eyes watching from the shadows.
Only him—and the sword.
Above him, the ocean of sword intent no longer felt distant or oppressive. It pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat, responding to his will like an extension of his own soul. The obsidian ground beneath him glowed faintly, ancient runes rotating slowly as if recording every change in his cultivation.
Chen Yunche guided the circulation method he had refined across ten thousand years in his previous life—no, refined across eternity.
In his past life, this technique had been mediocre at best, a patched-together method created to compensate for his average talent. It had taken him decades of trial, error, near-death experiences, and endless revisions to make it barely suitable for long-term cultivation.
Now?
Now, with infinite-duration sword intent reinforcing his foundation, with spiritual essence a thousand times denser than the outside world, and with experience carved into his very soul—
The technique sang.
Crack.
A sound echoed within his body.
Not audible to the ear, but unmistakable to the cultivator.
Chen Yunche's dantian trembled.
The final barrier shattered.
---
Qi Condensation Realm — achieved.
---
The moment his cultivation stepped into the Qi Condensation Realm, the surrounding sword intent surged violently, rushing toward him like rivers returning to the sea. His dantian, once an empty vessel, condensed spiritual essence into a swirling mist that rapidly compressed, layer upon layer, forming a stable core of qi.
Unlike ordinary cultivators, whose qi was thin and unstable at this stage, Chen Yunche's qi was heavy.
Sharp.
Each strand carried sword intent so refined it could cut through steel.
His aura changed.
Where he had once been merely a handsome young man with no cultivation to speak of, he now exuded a faint yet unmistakable pressure—subtle, restrained, but lethal.
Chen Yunche opened his eyes.
They gleamed.
Not with arrogance.
But with disbelief.
"…Two days," he whispered.
Two days inside the Supreme Sword Inner World.
In his previous life, reaching the Qi Condensation Realm had taken him—
Ding.
The system answered before he could finish the thought.
---
Achievement Unlocked: Breaking Personal Record
Description: The host has reached the Qi Condensation Realm in two days.
In the previous timeline, the same realm required forty-seven years, three months, and nine days of cultivation.
---
The words froze him in place.
Forty-seven years.
Not a metaphor.
Not an exaggeration.
The system recorded it precisely.
Chen Yunche stared at the glowing text, his vision blurring for just a fraction of a second.
His chest tightened.
Pain—not physical, but sharper than any blade—pierced straight through his heart.
Forty-seven years.
Years spent cultivating in broken caves, in abandoned ruins, under sects that saw him as disposable. Years of watching geniuses younger than him soar ahead while he ground his teeth and endured. Years of being mocked for his "beautiful face" and "mediocre roots." Years of swallowing humiliation because he had no backing, no bloodline, no monstrous talent.
Years of believing that effort alone would eventually close the gap.
It hadn't.
Not truly.
If not for the system's Plus Button, if not for his stubborn refusal to die, he would never have reached the heights he once stood upon.
Chen Yunche slowly clenched his fists.
"So this is what I broke," he murmured. "Not just a record… but a lifetime."
The achievement text faded, but the sting remained.
Then the system continued, cold and impartial.
---
Additional realm advancements detected.
Body Refinement Realm: Eleventh Layer — confirmed.
---
A dull, heavy force surged through Chen Yunche's flesh.
Bones crackled like tempered steel being reforged. Muscles compressed and expanded, each fiber becoming denser, tougher, infused with spiritual essence. His blood roared through his veins, carrying faint traces of sword intent that strengthened every internal organ.
The Body Refinement Realm.
A realm often overlooked by cultivators who rushed toward spiritual power, yet one that determined whether a body could withstand higher Daos later.
In his previous life, Chen Yunche had stopped at the Ninth Layer—barely above average. Advancing further required rare resources, body-refining techniques, and constant pain.
Now?
He had stepped directly into the Eleventh Layer.
Without pills.
Without external treasures.
Purely through the reinforcement of infinite sword intent and accelerated time.
His skin glimmered faintly, like polished jade beneath moonlight, before the glow faded completely, returning him to an appearance that seemed ordinary—too ordinary for the power hidden within.
Chen Yunche exhaled slowly.
"I haven't even touched the Spiritual Realm yet," he said quietly, referring to the foundational stage that bridged mortal cultivation and true Dao comprehension. "And already…"
Already, he was stronger than most cultivators at the peak of Qi Condensation in this era.
The system was silent for a breath.
Then—
Ding.
---
Achievement Reward Available.
Please select one option.
---
Three symbols appeared before him, each radiating a different kind of pressure.
Chen Yunche's gaze sharpened.
---
Option 1: Upgrade System Primary Function (Plus Button)
Description: Enhances the Plus Button's authority and scope.
---
His heart skipped.
The Plus Button was already terrifying. It allowed him to turn temporary effects into eternal laws—something that bordered on defying causality itself.
Upgrading it…
He did not even know what that would entail.
---
Option 2: Upgrade Supreme Sword Inner World
Description: Improves time dilation, world stability, and Dao richness.
---
Chen Yunche glanced around at the endless silver plain, the ocean of sword intent above, the runes beneath his feet.
Even now, this place was already absurd.
But improvement?
Could time flow even faster than a thousand-to-one?
Could the Dao here become purer?
---
Option 3: Upgrade Innate Talent
Description: Permanently improves cultivation aptitude and comprehension.
---
This one made his fingers tremble.
Innate talent.
The chain that had bound him for an entire lifetime.
Average talent.
Those two words had followed him like a curse across ten thousand years. No matter how high he climbed, no matter how terrifying his battle strength became, there had always been a ceiling—one he had smashed through using experience and ruthlessness, but never truly erased.
To change that…
Chen Yunche closed his eyes.
The image of his past life rose unbidden in his mind.
Him, standing alone after his betrayal, blood soaking into sacred stone.
Him, smiling calmly while dying, believing he had at least lived without regret.
That belief shattered now.
"If I had this back then…" he whispered.
The system did not respond.
It never advised.
It only offered choices.
Chen Yunche opened his eyes again, his gaze steady, emotions settling like dust after a storm.
"One million years," he said softly. "This time… every step must be perfect."
The three options hovered before him, unmoving, waiting for a decision that would shape the rest of history.
And far beyond the Supreme Sword Inner World—
In the ancient world outside, fate began to shift.
Chen Yunche did not choose immediately.
The three options hovered before him like silent judges, each one radiating a different weight of destiny. Any cultivator—any normal cultivator—would have chosen without hesitation. Upgrade the Plus Button and gain terrifying authority. Upgrade the Supreme Sword Inner World and cultivate at an inhuman pace.
Both were logical.
Both were powerful.
Both were tempting.
And yet, Chen Yunche remained still.
The silver-white light of the inner world reflected in his eyes as memories surfaced one after another, uninvited and merciless.
He remembered kneeling in the snow outside a sect gate, begging for entry while disciples with worse temperaments but better talent laughed openly. He remembered being praised for diligence, for perseverance, for "not wasting his beauty"—words that sounded kind but carried a quiet cruelty. He remembered watching juniors who had entered cultivation decades after him surpass him effortlessly, as if the heavens themselves were carrying them forward.
He remembered breaking through realms through sheer accumulation of time, never through sudden enlightenment.
He remembered the invisible wall.
Average talent.
A cage no amount of effort could completely shatter.
The Supreme Sword Inner World was heaven-defying, yes. A thousand years inside for every year outside. A place where time bowed its head. But even heaven-defying opportunities still relied on one thing at their core.
The cultivator.
If his foundation remained flawed, if his innate talent remained mediocre, then even infinite time would only stretch the same limits further—it would never erase them.
Chen Yunche let out a slow breath.
"No matter how sharp the sword," he said quietly, "if the steel itself is flawed, it will break one day."
His gaze hardened.
"I won't repeat that mistake."
He raised his hand.
And pressed the third option.
---
Option Selected: Upgrade Innate Talent
---
For a single heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then—
Pain.
Not the sharp, momentary pain of a breakthrough. Not the burning pain of body refinement. Not even the soul-tearing agony of tribulation lightning.
This pain was fundamental.
It erupted from his very existence, as if something ancient and deeply rooted was being torn out and rewritten.
Chen Yunche's body arched violently as he was thrown backward, slamming into the obsidian ground. Cracks spread beneath him like spiderwebs, sword runes flaring wildly as the entire inner world reacted.
"Agh—!"
The scream tore itself from his throat before he could stop it.
His bones ignited.
Not metaphorically—literally.
They glowed from within, turning translucent as torrents of sword intent qi flooded into them. The pain was so intense it bypassed conscious thought, striking directly at his soul.
This was not absorption.
This was invasion.
Sword intent qi—pure, ancient, immeasurable in quantity—poured into him from every direction. It descended from the ocean of sword intent above, surged up from the obsidian ground below, and erupted from the runes etched into the very fabric of the inner world.
Chen Yunche felt as though he had become the center of a collapsing star.
"System…!" he tried to call out.
There was no response.
The system did not comfort.
The system did not warn.
It simply executed.
His meridians ruptured one by one, unable to withstand the sudden influx. Before he could even register the destruction, they were reforged—wider, denser, sharper—only to rupture again moments later.
Break.
Rebuild.
Break again.
Each cycle was faster, more violent than the last.
Blood seeped from every pore of his skin, evaporating instantly into crimson mist before it could touch the ground. His internal organs were crushed, reshaped, then crushed again, as sword intent carved away impurities that had existed since his birth.
Chen Yunche's consciousness began to blur.
Memories surfaced in fragments.
Him, sitting alone in a cave for decades, cultivating in silence.
Him, smiling calmly while others mocked him.
Him, holding the supreme treasure map, trusting the woman behind him.
"Not again…" he whispered hoarsely.
The pain intensified, as if responding to his resolve.
Something deep within him began to crack.
Not bone.
Not meridian.
Not soul.
Talent.
The invisible, intangible limit imposed at birth.
The heavens' verdict.
Chen Yunche felt it shatter.
---
Inside his dantian, the qi mist condensed violently, spinning faster and faster until it collapsed inward. At the same time, countless threads of sword intent drilled into his spiritual root—something he had never been able to clearly perceive in his past life.
It was… dull.
Gray.
Uneven.
Average.
Now, sword intent wrapped around it like a cocoon, compressing it, slicing away excess, burning away impurities with merciless precision.
Chen Yunche convulsed.
The pain reached a crescendo so absolute that sound ceased to exist. For an instant, he felt as if his very identity was dissolving—Chen Yunche, the man of average talent, being erased from the Dao itself.
Then—
Light.
Blinding, overwhelming light erupted from his body, forcing the entire Supreme Sword Inner World to tremble. The ocean of sword intent above churned violently, waves crashing downward in spirals of silver-white qi.
Runes shattered.
New runes formed.
The world was evolving.
At the center of it all, Chen Yunche floated midair, his body suspended as if cradled by unseen hands. The pain receded—not vanished, but transformed into a deep, resonant ache, like the aftermath of reforging divine steel.
He gasped for breath.
Each inhale drew in sword intent qi that no longer tore him apart.
It obeyed.
It welcomed him.
Chen Yunche slowly opened his eyes.
For a moment, he did not recognize the world.
Everything was sharper.
Clearer.
The flow of sword intent was no longer chaotic noise but structured music, each strand carrying meaning, direction, and purpose. He could see Dao patterns interwoven through the inner world, subtle yet unmistakable.
He looked down at his hands.
They appeared unchanged—still pale, still elegant.
Yet he could feel it.
An ease.
A naturalness.
As if cultivation, which had once been a steep mountain he climbed inch by inch, had flattened into a wide, open road.
Ding.
The system finally spoke.
---
Innate Talent Upgrade — Complete.
Talent Grade: Unknown.
---
Chen Yunche froze.
"Unknown…?" he repeated softly.
In this world, talent was measured meticulously. Mortal-grade, Earth-grade, Heaven-grade, Supreme-grade—each with clear distinctions. Even anomalies were eventually classified.
Unknown meant one thing.
It could not be measured by existing standards.
A slow smile spread across his face.
Not joy.
Not arrogance.
Relief.
A weight he had carried for over ten thousand years—no, over an entire existence—had finally been lifted.
He clenched his fist.
Sword intent surged instinctively, slicing a clean line through space itself before dissipating soundlessly.
"So this is what it feels like," he murmured. "To not be shackled."
The ache in his body deepened again, reminding him that the transformation was not without cost. His cultivation base trembled violently, struggling to stabilize under the sudden elevation of his foundation.
Qi Condensation Realm.
Eleventh Layer Body Refinement.
Both began to resonate in ways they never had before.
His qi grew purer.
Denser.
Sharper.
What once required conscious control now flowed naturally, as if his body understood cultivation.
Chen Yunche sat up slowly, crossing his legs once more. He did not rush to cultivate further. He knew better.
This was a rebirth.
And rebirth required consolidation.
As he began circulating his cultivation method again, comprehension bloomed effortlessly. Where once he needed careful calculation, insights now arose spontaneously. Flaws he had tolerated for tens of thousands of years revealed themselves instantly, and solutions followed just as naturally.
He adjusted.
Refined.
Perfected.
Inside the Supreme Sword Inner World, time continued to accelerate.
Outside, the ancient world remained unaware.
But fate had already changed.
Chen Yunche opened his eyes after a long while, his gaze calm, deep, and impossibly sharp.
"One million years ago," he said quietly, "the heavens decided I would be ordinary."
A faint smile curved his lips.
"This time, I decide instead."
And in the endless silver-white world of swords, a new legend took its first irreversible step forward.