Baek Lee, a sick boy from Earth, had always felt like he was fighting a battle no one else could see. Diagnosed with cancer, he often wandered the streets, lost in his thoughts and drowning in despair. On one particularly dreary day, feeling more alone than ever, he strolled through the city, his mind heavy with worries of life and death.
As he walked, he noticed a man sitting on the sidewalk, looking half-dead. The man was gaunt and disheveled, his eyes sunken and filled with a mixture of pain and hopelessness. Baek Lee initially pretended not to see him, turning his gaze away as he passed. But something tugged at his heart. He paused, rummaged through his pockets, and pulled out a few crumpled bills. With a deep breath, he approached the man and handed him the money.
The man's eyes lit up for a moment, and then he smiled—a weary but genuine smile. "Thank you, boy," he said, his voice raspy but warm. "I think we are destined to meet today." His gaze seemed to pierce through Baek Lee's soul, and for a brief moment, the boy felt an inexplicable connection.
Before Baek Lee could ask anything, the man leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I am Emperor Tianyi, and I have a gift for you, young one." He began to chant a strange incantation in a language Baek Lee couldn't understand, yet it resonated deep within him, awakening something he didn't know existed.
"You see, only those who have faced despair and pain, yet still possess a kind heart, can learn the Chaos Origin Technique," Tianyi explained, his eyes gleaming with ancient wisdom. "Listen carefully, for I will only say this once."
With a flick of his wrist, Tianyi produced a letter that shimmered with a strange energy. "This is your letter of recommendation to the Battlefield of Gods and Demons. Within its folds lies the key to your destiny. But remember, boy, only through hardship can you truly grow stronger and achieve true immortality and ascend to Godhood."
Before Baek Lee could respond, a sudden rift appeared in the air, swirling with dark energy. It pulsed ominously, drawing him in. "Embrace your fate!" Tianyi shouted, his voice echoing as the black hole expanded.
In an instant, Baek Lee felt himself being pulled into the void, the world around him blurring into darkness. When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer on the streets of his city. Instead, he found himself standing in a vast, unfamiliar landscape filled with cultivatior rthat roamed freely kid flying around with swords .
Confusion washed over him, but a flicker of hope ignited in his heart. Perhaps this was his chance—a chance to escape the shackles of his illness and to become someone greater. He clutched the letter tightly, feeling the weight of destiny resting in his hands.
With determination fueling his spirit, Baek Lee took a deep breath and stepped forward into the unknown, ready to face the challenges that awaited him in this new world. The journey ahead would be fraught with danger and hardship, but for the first time in a long while, he felt a sense of purpose. He was no longer just a sick boy; he was a warrior in the making, destined to forge his own path in the Battlefield of Gods and Demons.
As the vibrant colors of the righteous cultivation gathering swirled around him, Baek Lee stood amidst the throng of hopeful cultivators, each one eager to showcase their talents. The air was thick with anticipation as disciples from the Great Ten Thousand World tested their abilities in various arts—swordsmanship, magic, alchemy, and more. The atmosphere crackled with energy, and yet, Baek felt a pang of dread in his chest.
Having arrived in this new world with the singular aim of cultivating his skills, Baek had high hopes. However, the reality of his situation became painfully clear as he stepped onto the aptitude testing stage. One by one, the talents of the other disciples were revealed—brilliant swordsmen, powerful mages, and masterful alchemists. Each display was more impressive than the last, making Baek's heart sink deeper.
When it was finally his turn, he took a deep breath, trying to summon the strength of his years spent honing his fists on the streets. The tester, a stern-looking elder, raised an eyebrow as the results were displayed: Baek Lee had achieved a mere ten stars in Fist Art, the highest ranking available for that martial skill. While it was commendable, it was nowhere near the levels of aptitude displayed by the others because peoplethe believed that eben a two stars Swordsman was better than the highest star fist art.
Laughter erupted from the crowd, and Baek's face burned with embarrassment. Among the jeers, one voice stood out—Zhang Wei, the son of one of the lower noble families, who seemed particularly intent on making Baek's humiliation complete. "What a joke! A mere ten stars in Fist Art? You'll never amount to anything! You're nothing but a street rat!" he taunted, flanked by his equally arrogant friends.
Baek clenched his fists, feeling the familiar sting of anger rise within him. He had spent years on the streets, scraping by and fighting for survival, and now this pampered noble thought he could look down on him? With a calmness that belied the storm within, he turned to face the crowd. "Remember this," he said, his voice steady despite the mockery surrounding him. "In ten years, I will surpass all of you. You'll see."
With that declaration hanging in the air, Baek Lee left the aptitude checking stage, a mix of determination and resentment fueling his steps. He had only fist art, but he had something far more valuable—a fierce will to prove himself and a lifetime of grit that no noble could understand. As he walked away from the gathering, the laughter of the crowd faded, replaced by the sound of his own heartbeat, each thump a reminder of his resolve.