The night wind whispered through the courtyards of the Longwei Clan, carrying the faint scent of ancient pine and medicinal smoke. The moon hung high, pale and distant, casting cold light upon the tiled roofs.
Inside one of the smaller residences — the Ninth Courtyard — a young man sat cross-legged upon a jade mat, his body still faintly trembling from what had occurred earlier that day.
Dua Lin, reborn soul of Earth's weapon specialist and bearer of the Rebirth Martial Emperor's memories, breathed slowly, letting his thoughts still.
The words of his mother, Madam Rou, still echoed in his mind.
"Tian'er… no, Lin'er… the heavens may abandon us, but as long as you breathe, you are still a Longwei."
Those words, filled with quiet pride and sorrow, stirred something deep within him — a sense of responsibility toward a clan that had long been forgotten by the world.
He had humiliated Li Xin and his father today, striking back for the first time since awakening in this world. But that victory only opened the gates to new danger.
The Seventh Elder's hatred was now certain.
The whispers had already spread through the estate —
"The Ninth Elder's son has changed."
"He possesses strange strength…"
"Could he have awakened a bloodline?"
Dua Lin ignored them all.
Sitting upon the mat, he pressed his palms together and closed his eyes. The patterns of an ancient technique surfaced in his mind like dragon shadows rising from the abyss — the Nine Dragons War Sovereign Technique.
In his previous life, he had mastered weapons, tactics, and death. In this one, he would master heaven itself.
"Nine dragons soar, nine veins awaken, nine heavens bow…"
The first incantation stirred in his sea of consciousness. Instantly, a surge of spiritual force burst within his dantian — chaotic, turbulent, and searing hot.
He clenched his jaw, his expression hardening as waves of agony rippled through his body.
This pain… it's the tempering of the mortal shell.
He forced his breath to steady, guiding the heat as if directing the movement of a weapon's energy core. Slowly, the wild current began to circulate along his meridians, burning away the impurities of flesh and bone.
Moments stretched into eternity. Sweat rolled down his back. His breathing grew deeper, heavier — like the rumble of distant thunder.
Then—
BOOM.
A faint sound echoed from within his body, like a muffled explosion beneath flesh. The first of his Dragon Veins quivered awake, a crimson thread of Qi coiling through his lower abdomen.
At that instant, Dua Lin's eyes snapped open. A faint golden glimmer passed through his pupils, and for a brief heartbeat, the shadow of a dragon flickered behind him — silent, majestic, and gone in an instant.
He exhaled slowly, the metallic taste of blood at the back of his throat.
"So this is the first step… the awakening of the First Dragon Vein."
It was faint, almost imperceptible, but it pulsed in harmony with his heartbeat. Strength — pure, refined strength — surged through him like molten steel.
He raised his palm and clenched it into a fist. The bones in his hand crackled like thunder. The strength within him now far surpassed that of a mere Body Tempering novice.
"If I faced Li Xin again… one strike would be enough."
The corners of his mouth curved slightly — not in arrogance, but certainty.
Outside, the wind carried faint murmurs. From the shadows of the courtyard, two figures watched the faint golden aura flickering through the cracks of Dua Lin's chamber.
One was a middle-aged man in gray robes, his expression cautious. The other, a thin elder with sharp eyes — the Second Elder of the Longwei Clan.
"Elder Ming, did you see that? That light…" the gray-robed man whispered.
The elder's gaze narrowed. "A resonance of Qi. But it carries a strange rhythm — ancient, powerful. Could it be… the remnant bloodline of the Longwei?"
The man trembled. "But the clan's dragon blood was said to have vanished generations ago…"
"Nothing truly vanishes," the elder murmured. "Sometimes it sleeps — waiting for the right vessel."
He turned away, his face shadowed. "Keep silent about this. The Patriarch must not know yet. If the boy truly carries the dragon's mark… the balance of the clan will shift."
The two figures disappeared into the mist.
Inside, Dua Lin's breathing steadied once more. His inner sight now extended deeper — into the faint outline of a golden dragon mark forming at the center of his dantian.
It wasn't yet a true dragon — merely a fragment of will, a scale of potential. But it was enough to change his destiny.
He could feel the world around him now — the faint flow of Qi in the air, the pulse of energy in the earth. Even the flicker of candlelight seemed slower, as though his senses had expanded beyond the mortal realm.
"So this is the path of cultivation…"
He recalled the memories of the Rebirth Martial Emperor — countless techniques, philosophies, and Dao insights cascading through his mind like a torrent.
Form the body. Temper the Qi. Unify the spirit. Command the Dao.
Yet all those teachings converged upon one realization:
"Without strength, one's Dao is empty."
He clenched his fists tighter, the faint trace of dragon aura coiling around his knuckles.
"Longwei Clan…" he whispered. "You've fallen far, but I will make your name resound again."
At that moment, a sudden knock echoed on the wooden door.
"Lin'er, are you awake?" came his mother's gentle voice.
He quickly stabilized his Qi flow, dispersing the remaining energy, and opened the door.
Madam Rou entered, carrying a small jade bottle. Her face was pale — still weary from the energy she'd expended healing him earlier — but her eyes were warm.
"I heard strange sounds just now… Are you cultivating again so soon?"
Dua Lin smiled faintly. "Only refining my breath, Mother."
She nodded softly, placing the jade bottle in his hand. "This is a small reward from the Patriarch — a Grade Eight Essence Restoring Pill. He said it was for your recovery."
Her tone was calm, but Dua Lin noticed the shadow in her eyes.
"The Patriarch?" he asked. "Or the Seventh Elder?"
Madam Rou sighed. "The Seventh Elder made a fuss. But the Patriarch silenced him. Still… be careful, Lin'er. The clan is not as peaceful as it appears."
Dua Lin bowed his head respectfully. "I understand."
After she left, he stared at the pill in his palm — a small orb glowing faintly with golden Qi. He swallowed it without hesitation. The medicinal warmth surged through his body, merging with the power of his awakened vein.
Within moments, the faint dragon mark pulsed again — stronger, sharper.
"Nine Dragons War Sovereign Technique… Second Cycle — Flow of the Dragon Vein."
His breathing deepened, his Qi resonated with the earth below, and his consciousness drifted to a place beyond the physical — a vast sea of darkness where nine colossal dragon silhouettes slumbered.
He could only see one faintly now — the first dragon, crimson and coiled — but even that shadow radiated power vast enough to shatter mountains.
A deep, ancient voice rumbled through the void.
"So… another bearer has come."
Dua Lin's mind trembled. "Who… who are you?"
The voice was neither human nor beast, but a resonance of the Dao itself — calm yet overwhelming.
"When all nine veins awaken, the heavens shall bow. Remember this, child of dragon blood: the War Sovereign's path is paved not by mercy, but by might."
The vision shattered. Dua Lin gasped, cold sweat pouring down his face.
Outside, the moon had begun to sink beyond the horizon.
He raised his hand, the faint golden scales now flickering upon his wrist before fading once more.
"The strength of a single ancient mammoth…" he murmured, testing the power coursing through him. "No — it's stronger. At least two."
For the first time since arriving in this world, he smiled — not from joy, but from purpose.
The path of cultivation had truly begun.
And the Longwei Clan, long forgotten by history, would tremble again beneath the roar of dragons.