Within that miniature cosmos—an isolated fragment of space where time itself seemed hesitant to flow—an ancient voice echoed endlessly, carrying with it the weight of countless eras.
Tian Wuchen's voice.
It did not simply sound… it resonated, as if the void itself was repeating his words.
"…He—Lin Xin Jian—walked forward, step by step, chasing the impossible… clinging to the hope that he could heal that wound…"
A faint tremor passed through the space.
"…For ten thousand years, he defied death itself."
Silence followed.
A heavy, suffocating silence.
Then—
"…But…"
That single word felt like a blade.
"…Even after thousands of years of cultivation… even after exhausting everything he had… he could not take that final step."
The void dimmed slightly, as if mourning.
"…And in the end… he realized…"
A deep breath echoed—slow, heavy, burdened.
"…he would not be able to live any longer."
—
Lin Shuan stood frozen.
His entire body felt cold.
Not the cold of ice… but the cold of inevitability.
His fists tightened unconsciously.
"…Fortunately…"
Tian Wuchen's voice softened slightly.
"…at that exact moment…"
A pause.
"…you were born."
—
Tian Wuchen slowly turned his gaze toward Lin Shuan.
There was something strange in his eyes.
Not just observation.
Not just expectation.
Something deeper.
"…He felt something extraordinary within you."
As those words were spoken—
The space around them began to distort.
The void shattered like glass.
—
Scene Shift
Darkness gave way to light.
A new world unfolded.
—
A room.
Simple… yet filled with warmth.
The air trembled faintly with spiritual energy.
And at the center—
A newborn child cried loudly, his voice pure and powerful, echoing far more than it should have for an infant.
His tiny body radiated a faint glow.
Not visible to ordinary eyes—
But unmistakable to those who could perceive spiritual essence.
—
Tian Wuchen's voice continued, now softer, almost reverent.
"At the moment of his birth… his spiritual power had already reached the second stage of the Soul Realm…"
The space subtly shifted, and unseen symbols appeared faintly in the air—representing the structure of spiritual cultivation.
Spiritual Power was divided into four great Realms—
Soul Power Realms:
[Soul Realm (4 stages)
Consciousness Realm (4 stages)
Heaven Realm (2 stages)
Emperor Realm (2 stages)]
Each Realm was divided into its own stages.
In total—twelve stages marked the path of ascension.
And each stage represented evolution—not of the body—
but of the soul itself.
"And yet… he had just been born…"
—
The infant cried in his mother's arms.
Lin Yun Qing.
Her face was pale from exhaustion, but her eyes were filled with warmth.
She held the child close, as if afraid the world might take him away.
Beside her stood Lin Zhen Hai.
Tall. Firm. Silent.
But his eyes—
His eyes trembled slightly.
Not from fear.
But from something deeper.
Hope.
—
Then—
The air suddenly changed.
—
A pressure descended.
Heavy.
Ancient.
Unavoidable.
—
BOOM—
The space rippled violently.
Spiritual energy froze.
Even the air seemed to kneel.
—
A figure appeared.
—
He did not arrive with light.
Nor with thunder.
He simply… existed.
As if he had always been there.
—
Lin Xin Jian.
—
His figure was tall and ethereal.
His long robes flowed without wind.
His presence—
It was overwhelming.
Not oppressive in a violent way—
But in a way that made existence itself feel insignificant.
—
A cold, frost-like aura surrounded him.
Not ordinary ice.
But a deeper, ancient frost—
One that seemed capable of freezing even time.
—
The moment he appeared—
Lin Yun Qing and Lin Zhen Hai's bodies trembled violently.
—
Blood surged within them.
Their hearts pounded uncontrollably.
An invisible pressure crushed down upon their very lineage.
Their instincts screamed—
Kneel.
—
Without hesitation—
Both of them bowed deeply.
"Greetings… Ancestor…"
Their voices shook.
Not from fear alone—
But from reverence engraved into their blood.
—
Lin Xin Jian looked at them.
For a moment—
He said nothing.
—
Then—
"Rise."
His voice was calm.
But absolute.
—
They stood immediately.
Not by choice.
But because they could not disobey.
—
Lin Xin Jian's gaze slowly swept across the surroundings.
The room.
The land.
The faint traces of the clan's existence.
—
Then—
A sigh escaped his lips.
"…Ah…"
His eyes dimmed slightly.
"…My Lin Clan…"
—
There was no anger.
No disappointment.
Just—
A deep, quiet sorrow.
—
Lin Zhen Hai immediately stepped forward, his expression tense.
"Ancestor… please forgive us…!"
His voice carried urgency.
"…After hundreds of years… we have only managed to secure a small place within this empire…"
He clenched his fists.
"…But now that you have returned… surely… our clan will rise again! We will stand at the peak of the Tian Yuan Continent!"
—
Lin Xin Jian slowly shook his head.
"No."
One word.
Absolute.
—
"…This is not my era."
—
Silence fell again.
—
His gaze shifted.
Landing on Lin Zhen Hai.
For a brief moment—
It sharpened.
—
"…Peak Soul Spark Rank…"
A faint nod.
"…You are not weak."
Then—
"…But you are far from enough."
—
Before Lin Zhen Hai could respond—
Lin Xin Jian raised his hand.
A small jade fragment appeared.
—
It was simple in appearance.
Yet within it—
An ocean of Luo Essence churned.
Dense.
Pure.
Terrifyingly concentrated.
—
Even before touching it—
Lin Zhen Hai's breathing became unstable.
His instincts screamed—
Treasure.
No—
Something far beyond that.
—
Lin Xin Jian flicked his fingers.
The jade piece floated gently toward Lin Zhen Hai.
"…Take it."
—
Lin Zhen Hai caught it with both hands.
The moment it touched his skin—
His body trembled.
—
This…
This was something that could change his fate.
—
His eyes reddened slightly.
"…Thank you… Ancestor…"
His voice was filled with gratitude.
—
But Lin Xin Jian was no longer looking at him.
—
His gaze had shifted.
—
To the child.
—
Lin Shuan.
—
The crying had stopped.
—
The infant was staring directly at him.
—
Not afraid.
Not confused.
—
Smiling.
—
For the first time—
A faint smile appeared on Lin Xin Jian's face.
—
He stepped forward.
Slowly.
Each step felt like the world was making way for him.
—
He stopped beside the child.
Looking down.
—
"…A boy…"
A soft chuckle.
—
Then—
His expression became serious.
—
"…From this moment onward…"
His voice deepened.
"…the fate of this clan…"
A faint surge of energy spread outward.
"…will rest in your hands."
—
Lin Yun Qing's grip tightened slightly.
Lin Zhen Hai froze.
—
"…I hope…"
Lin Xin Jian continued.
"…you will bring it back to life."
—
The moment those words were spoken—
—
BOOM
—
The entire room was engulfed.
—
A vast spiritual barrier expanded outward instantly.
Sealing the space.
Isolating it from the world.
—
Energy surged wildly.
Not destructive—
But overwhelming.
—
The air grew heavy.
The ground trembled.
—
Symbols formed faintly in the surroundings—
Ancient.
Forgotten.
Powerful.
—
Lin Shuan's body glowed brighter.
—
Something had begun.
—
Something far beyond their understanding.
—
And within that sealed space—
The will of an ancestor…
Had been passed on.
—
To a child…
—
Who would one day change everything.