In the Boundless Silence of Deep Space
In the boundless, silent dark of space—somewhere in an unknown star system—an asteroid field stretched for millions of kilometers. Some of the asteroids were as massive as planets; others, no larger than a car. The void was still and eerily quiet, as it should be.
Then, without warning, a fluctuation appeared at the center of the vast asteroid field.
It intensified by the second—space itself trembling—until suddenly, a colossal rift tore open vertically. As if someone had sliced through the fabric of reality, a glowing spatial wound 40 to 50 kilometers long formed in mid-void.
From that rift emerged a ship—slowly, heavily, as if gravity itself resisted its arrival.
It was a behemoth: 38 kilometers long, its hull gleaming silver, cloaked in a protective energy barrier that shimmered as asteroids bounced harmlessly off it. Inch by inch, the massive vessel pushed through the spatial gash until it was fully free. And as soon as it cleared the breach, the rift began to collapse—shrinking, folding in on itself—until nothing remained.
Silence returned.
Now, the asteroid field had a new resident: a warship that looked like a fusion of an Executor-class dreadnought and a Resurgent-class Star Destroyer, though clearly of unique design. It floated in silence—powerful, majestic, and sleeping.
Inside the Beast
Within the ship, in a grand suite lined with opulence from many worlds, a young man lay asleep. The room was an architectural harmony of ancient Egyptian grandeur, Greek elegance, Rajput intricacy, and Ming Dynasty artistry. Furniture of carved wood and leather, golden inlay, and detailed etchings filled the suite. Not a corner lacked attention.
This was William's suite. He knew it well.
But his sleep was anything but peaceful.
His brow furrowed. Sweat beaded on his face. Then—"No…" he gasped, shooting upright in bed, chest heaving. He ran a hand through his damp hair, his skin slick with sweat. His breath slowed, and he looked around, confused at first, then grounding himself.
"So… it did happen," he murmured. "It's real."
"Damn it…"
He clenched his fists. "I was powerless then. It's my fault… I limited myself—pretending to be mortal, trying to play by their rules. I should've known… I should've seen it coming."
He rose from bed and reached for the robes beside him. William was strikingly handsome—unnaturally so. His hair was white with strands of gold, his eyes a brilliant golden hue. Even beauty seemed to pale next to him.
As he made his way toward the bathroom to clean up, thoughts raced through his mind.
Who was behind the attack? Only the Emperors and Dukes of the Verven Empire knew of his covert journey. Even the crew didn't know until after he left—and they'd been isolated on comms. There was no chance they leaked it.
It had to be one of the Dukes… or perhaps all of them. But why?
Only one answer came to him, rising from the depths of his mind like a poison:
Jealousy.
It wasn't a Duke. Not just a single betrayer. It was all of them—infected by envy.
Not of his title.
Not of his accomplishments.
But of him.
His unnatural growth. His presence. His power. His ship. His influence. His refusal to be owned.
They envied what they couldn't control—and they feared what they couldn't predict.
He remembered now, how the Empress once smiled politely when he refused to hand over the ship. She had said, "Ah, what a shame," and walked away. But her eyes had lingered too long. She wasn't disappointed. She was planning.
And the Emperor? He had always wanted every piece to move at his command.
William shook his head, bitter.
"I should have known. I watched humanity for eons. I was human once. And yet I ignored the warning signs. I believed loyalty would be enough."
He let the heat of the water soak into his bones, trying to quiet the storm in his chest.
"Damn them all… for their fear. For their pride. For their jealousy."
You all might be confused. "Once human" sounds strange, I know. So let me explain something about myself.
The life I died in—what people call my "past life"—that was actually my controlled reincarnation. Before that? I'd already lived two lives.
My first was on Earth.
I wasn't extraordinary, but I wasn't nobody either. I majored in finance and got a job at one of the world's top investment firms—BlackRock. Mid-level position, promising future. It was a good life. Good pay. Decent lifestyle. The work was exhausting, sure—but what job isn't?
Still… something felt off.
Day after day, the same cycles repeated. Markets changed, numbers shifted, but the process stayed the same. Eventually, I started feeling detached. Like I was drifting through life that didn't mean anything.
That's when everything changed.
It was a normal evening. Around 7 or 8 PM. I was waiting at a red light, ready to cross the street. That's when I saw it—a cat, right in the middle of the empty road. A truck was barreling down.
I didn't think. I just ran.
I always had a soft spot for cats.
But when I reached the spot where it was… it was gone. Just vanished. I was stunned—and that split second was all it took.
I heard the horn first. Then the lights. I tried to move, but something—something—held my legs in place. I couldn't budge. And then the impact came. Like a thousand hammers crushing every bone in my body.
I blacked out.
I knew I was dying.
Medics arrived minutes later. Tried to save me. I was breathing, barely—but the injuries were too severe. I died before reaching the hospital.
Then came the void.
I don't know how long I floated there. It felt like years—alone, weightless, stripped of everything. Darkness pressing in from all sides. No light. No sound. Just nothing.
I was going insane.
But then… a glimmer. A small light. Slow at first, then growing—pushing back the dark until it blinded me completely.
And when that blindness faded, I found myself lying in a crib.
A man stood over me—gold and white hair, a warm expression. He spoke words I didn't understand, but I could read his face. He was happy.
That man was Leon Valehart of the Imperius Clan—my father. My mother, Elina, stood nearby.
I had been reborn.
This world—Solaris—was nothing like Earth. A massive realm, a thousand times larger, where magic and cultivation were real. Spells were weapons. Laws of reality were flexible. Immortality wasn't myth—it was attainable.
I was thrilled.
This was the kind of world I used to read about. Now I lived in it.
But excitement gave way to pressure. At age ten, every child undergoes their awakening. That's when their Martial Spirit manifests—and that spirit determines whether one can cultivate at all.
There were levels to it: Mortal Grade. Earth Grade. Heaven Grade. Saint Grade. And beyond, though no one spoke much about that.
Saint Grade was the peak—unreachable for most. But those who awakened it were destined to stand among gods.
The day of my awakening came. Held in Solaria, the empire's capital, known as the Sun City. As the Valehart heir, expectations were sky-high. Everyone waited to see what I would become.
Inside, I was panicking. What if I had no spirit? It happened—rare, but real. What if I failed before I even started?
But I stepped up anyway.
I placed my hand on the Awakening Crystal. Immediately, energy surged through me. Wild. Unpredictable. I almost yanked my hand away—until a calm voice spoke behind me:
"Don't worry, young master. That reaction is normal."
The elder's voice steadied me.
Then, in a flash—everything changed.
My consciousness was ripped from my body and thrown into a vast field of stars and swirling colors. It was beautiful—but I barely had time to take it in.
A voice echoed from above.
"Master William."
I looked up. A sphere of pure white energy floated in the sky, pulsing and flickering.
"Who… who are you?" I asked.
"I am your spirit. Your true Martial Spirit."
"You're what?"
"I am the Spirit of Creation."
Creation.
I couldn't speak. My mind was spinning.
"I don't know everything," the voice continued, "but I know this: I am far beyond any Saint Grade spirit. I could create universes, laws, timelines... when at full power. But something's wrong. I'm incomplete. We're connected—but I've used nearly all my remaining power to bring your soul here… to reincarnate you."
I was stunned.
"You—you're the reason I reincarnated?"
"Yes. Your death awoke me. I sensed potential… and acted. My energy is low now, so I'll sleep for a while. But I've created a second spirit to protect you while I recover. Your body is already altered. Your talent will have no limits."
Then the voice softened.
"Remember, Master… the sky is not the limit."
The light faded. I reached out, desperate to ask more—but it was too late.
I woke up, hand still on the crystal.
But my voice went unanswered.
The Spirit of Creation had already retreated into hibernation, and my consciousness was yanked out of that starry plane.
I woke up in front of the Awakening Altar.
But something was different.
I could feel it—this strange pull radiating from deep inside me. It felt like a black hole had formed in my core, sucking in mana from all around. The effect was immediate. The air began to ripple and distort as if space itself was bending.
The elder overseeing the ceremony snapped his gaze toward me.
So did my father, Leon, and my mother, Elina.
So did the heads of the major clans. Even some elite members of the royal family had their eyes locked on me.
"It's starting," the elder muttered.
"He's awakening… his Martial Spirit," my parents whispered in near-unison, their expressions caught between awe and disbelief.
Normally, when someone awakens, mana surges outward, forming the shape of the spirit as it reveals itself. But this... this was different.
The mana wasn't pouring out. It was being dragged in.
As if the world itself was feeding me.
Everyone present was stunned. No one had seen anything like it—not the elder, not the clan heads, not even the royal observers.
The phenomenon only intensified.
Slowly, my body began to rise—levitating off the ground. Countless multicolored motes of mana gathered around me, swirling into a vortex. The air shimmered. Light bled into brilliance.
It looked like the heavens were responding.
A storm of pure mana formed above me, roaring and swirling like it was tearing through the sky itself. The pull wasn't just on ambient mana anymore—it was yanking mana directly from the people standing nearby.
Even they felt it—their own reserves being drained against their will.
Gasps spread.
The elder squinted, trying to peer deeper into my soul, to see what kind of spirit I was awakening—but something blocked him. A veil. A force too dense to pierce.
His surprise turned to disbelief.
My body, meanwhile, kept absorbing. Mana compressed tighter and tighter inside me, fusing with my bones, my blood, my very being. I could feel it—changing me.
A fundamental transformation.
Then something snapped.
The vortex surged again, bigger, stronger. The ground cracked beneath the altar. Trees bent. The skies trembled. And my cultivation base—nonexistent just seconds ago—began climbing.
Novice Rank 1.
Novice Rank 2.
Rank 3. Rank 4.
The numbers climbed in rapid succession.
Rank 7… 8… 9…
Peak of Novice Rank 9.
Then it stopped.
But the awakening wasn't over.
This was the final stage: the manifestation.
The true form of my Martial Spirit.
The mana pressure rippled outward like a tidal wave. The surrounding energy was compressed again, drawn in violently, until the air in front of me began to shimmer. Slowly, a figure began to take shape—first ethereal, then solid.
And then it arrived.