Leaving the Past Behind
Shen Ziyan walked alone beneath the vast night sky, his figure barely a shadow against the endless mountains. The road ahead was unpaved, winding through dense forests and steep ridges, the kind that even seasoned travelers hesitated to cross.
He had never left Yunhe Village before. The familiar dirt roads, the smell of burning wood from the villagers' hearths, and the distant laughter of children playing—it was all gone now. The warmth of home had been replaced by the cold embrace of uncertainty.
Each step carried him further from everything he had ever known.
He clenched his fist, staring at the golden mark still faintly glowing on his palm. The power within it was silent now, yet he could feel it—a quiet presence lurking beneath his skin, waiting.
Waiting for what?
His grip tightened.
The world was vast, filled with sects and cultivators who wielded power beyond his comprehension. If those people from before had sensed the Hand's presence, then others would, too.
He needed to become stronger.
He needed to understand what had been given to him—before someone came to take it away.
The Unknown Dangers of the Night
The road to Qinglong City was long, stretching through mountains, forests, and untamed wilderness. Though only a few days' journey by foot, it was a treacherous path. Bandits, spirit beasts, and rogue cultivators lurked in the darkness.
Ziyan had no weapons.
No cultivation.
No experience outside his village.
Yet he walked forward, his mind set.
Hours passed. The night grew colder, and the dense forest pressed in around him, the towering pines whispering in the wind. The moon was high, casting long shadows that danced between the trees.
Then, he heard it.
A low growl.
Ziyan froze, his breath caught in his throat. His eyes darted toward the darkness ahead.
A pair of glowing red eyes stared back at him.
Then another.
And another.
From the shadows, figures began to emerge—wolves. Their bodies were unnaturally large, their fur a dark, matted gray. Their eyes burned with an eerie crimson glow, filled with hunger and malice.
Spirit Beasts.
Ziyan's heartbeat thundered in his chest. He had heard stories—wild beasts that had absorbed spiritual energy over time, transforming into something far more dangerous than any ordinary predator.
And now, he stood before a pack of them.
A Desperate Fight
The largest wolf stepped forward, its breath misting in the cold night air. It snarled, baring fangs sharp enough to tear through flesh with ease.
Ziyan took a step back.
The wolves tensed.
Then—they lunged.
Ziyan barely had time to react. He threw himself sideways as the lead wolf's jaws snapped inches from his throat. He hit the ground hard, pain jolting through his body.
He rolled, barely dodging another strike. His mind screamed at him to run, but his body was slow—too slow.
The second wolf lunged from the side. Ziyan raised his arm in a desperate attempt to block.
Pain exploded through his forearm as fangs tore into his flesh.
He cried out, the searing agony nearly blinding him. The beast's eyes locked onto his, filled with bloodlust. It pushed forward, its weight pinning him down.
He was going to die.
No.
Something deep inside him refused.
His vision blurred. His blood pounded like a war drum in his ears. And then—
The golden mark on his palm flared to life.
The world froze.
The wolves. The wind. The trees. Even time itself seemed to stop for an instant.
Then, an invisible force exploded outward.
The wolf on top of him was sent flying—its body crashing through the trees as if struck by the heavens themselves.
The remaining wolves recoiled, yelping in fear. The air vibrated with unseen energy, swirling around Ziyan like a tempest. His body felt impossibly light, as if something greater had awakened inside him.
His wounds… stopped bleeding.
The pain faded.
Power surged through his limbs.
For the first time, he felt it—the energy that cultivators spoke of, the force that shaped the world itself.
Spiritual Qi.
And it was flowing through him.
The Awakening of Power
The remaining wolves hesitated, their primal instincts sensing something far beyond their comprehension. They were predators, but the thing before them…
It was something else.
Ziyan lifted his palm. The golden mark pulsed, its glow illuminating the dark forest. The power surged again, but this time, he controlled it.
He stepped forward.
The wolves stepped back.
Then, as if sensing their doom, they turned and fled, disappearing into the trees.
Silence returned to the forest.
Ziyan exhaled slowly, his body trembling—not from fear, but from the sheer realization of what had just happened.
He had wielded power.
Not through training, not through years of cultivation—but instinctively, as if it had always been part of him.
He looked down at his palm, the golden mark now dim.
Who… what had he become?
A New Dawn
The sky began to lighten in the east, painting the horizon with hues of crimson and gold. Ziyan stood at the edge of the forest, the city of Qinglong now visible in the distance.
A towering fortress of stone and jade, its walls stretched for miles, protecting the vast civilization within. Cultivators soared through the skies, their figures small against the grandeur of the city.
A world of power.
A world he was now stepping into.
He took a deep breath, pushing forward.
The journey had only just begun.
But one thing was clear—he was no longer ordinary.