In the land where no humans were meant to exist, he was born.
Not with fanfare, not with prophecy. There were no stars aligning. No sacred beast roaring at his birth. Only silence, wind, and the soft murmur of a world that had long forgotten the concept of man.
Kaen was not born from womb or egg. He came into being in the hollow of a quiet forest, amidst moss and roots, where Qi was thick yet unaware of him. His body was ordinary—achingly so. His limbs thin, his frame weak, his breath shallow.
And yet, above this world, high beyond sky or space, a figure sat cross-legged, watching.
He was silent, composed—the God MC, originator of this world, creator of countless realms across galaxies. The being who had named this place World Twelve, located in the outer spirals of the XXXXXX.. Galaxy.
This was one of many experimental planes he had designed. But this world… this one was different.
Because Kaen was his avatar. A fragment of his will.
"So… it has begun," he whispered into the void.
"My mortal self has awakened."
He watched with interest, not pride. The child below was not grand or glorious. There was no golden core in his dantian, no bloodline thunder to erupt with rage. No ancient inheritance lay hidden within his bones.
"His body is soft. No claws. No Qi yet in his veins. No beast instincts. No divine protection. Even the world does not recognize him."
"And yet… I gave him one thing—awareness."
Kaen, alone beneath a great stone arch carved naturally by wind, struggled to crawl. His fingers dug into damp soil. His eyes squinted at the sun. Hunger gripped him, thirst gnawed at him, but his gaze was curious.
He stared at falling leaves with wonder. He crawled toward sound. He reached toward flame without understanding, and though it burned, he learned.
The God MC, observing all this, let a small smile touch his lips.
"Knowledge without teaching. Movement without instinct. He has nothing… yet adapts to everything."
"This is the trait that no beast possesses. This is what makes a human."
Kaen was the only one of his kind. The others of the world were vast in number: serpent kings that carved rivers with their coils, fire-borne lions that breathed molten Qi, and winged leviathans that patrolled the skies as living storms. They cultivated by devouring Qi-rich stones, consuming others, and absorbing ancient energies. Their strength was monstrous, their minds focused.
Kaen had no such gifts. But he was thinking differently.
He watched a beast strike a tree with its tail. Hours later, Kaen struck the same tree with a sharpened stone. Not to destroy—but to test, to understand the sound, the feel of bark, the response of the forest.
The God MC's gaze narrowed.
"He cannot hear the Breath Veins… not yet. But he walks the path anyway."
"Not because I told him. But because he chooses to seek."
Time flowed differently for gods. But for Kaen, days turned to seasons. His body grew taller. His bones broke and healed. His muscles gained slow strength. Not fast like the Qi-born beasts, but with resilience. His body recorded pain. His mind began to analyze patterns.
He shaped tools. Built shelters. Learned how to hide in fog and blend into shadows cast by beasts ten times his size.
Still, to the world, he was nothing. Just another fragile lifeform in a land ruled by strength.
But the God MC could see it clearly:
"This body is my weakest form—no cultivation, no immortal marrow. Yet the soul inside it… carries the seed of understanding."
"This is what I came to test. What becomes of godly will… when stripped of all power?"
Kaen sat by a stream one night, looking at the moon's reflection. He pressed his fingers against his chest, where his heart beat steadily. He didn't know what he was yet. He didn't understand language, race, or lineage.
But he had begun to question.
"When that question becomes a need," the God said softly, "he will find the Breath Vein. Not because he inherited it. But because he forged the connection himself."
The path ahead would not be kind. Kaen would face creatures that had bathed in Qi since the birth of this world. He would face storms made of willpower, forests that devoured souls, beasts who dreamt in blood and flame.
And still… the future was already moving toward him.
Because knowledge was forming.
Because creation was curious.
Because Kaen was walking forward.
"Let them underestimate him. Let them ignore the species with no name."
"When he awakens… when he draws Qi not from the world, but from the truth behind it..."
"…all will remember the day the weakest body housed the strongest fate."
The wind blew gently through the glade where Kaen slept that night, his body curled beneath a crude shelter of leaves and stones. A creature passed by, massive and clawed, but did not notice him.
For now, the world saw no threat in the boy who had no Qi.
But soon, it would.
Because Kaen, born of godly will and mortal dust, was beginning to think.
And that alone, in this world of brute force, was the first terrifying power.