A gentle dusk wind whispered through the secluded valley. In the midst of the silence, a sixteen-year-old boy sat cross-legged. His white robe fluttered faintly, his black hair rested calmly behind him, and his eyes remained closed—like a mortal youth in simple meditation.
But the air around him trembled.
Ling Tian opened his eyes. There was calmness within them—yet not the calm of serenity. It was the calm of someone who had witnessed everything… and found all of it beneath his notice.
Deep within his dantian, something impossible had formed—something absent from every scripture, every legendary scroll, every ancient archive. A perfectly spherical core, crystalline and radiant, glowing with threads of silver-white light.
The Celestial Core.
Ling Tian observed it within his inner sight and murmured:
"So that's all?"
No shock.
No pride.
No self-admiration.
As though the birth of the highest-grade core in existence was nothing more than a trivial inevitability.
He rose slowly. Dust shivered at his feet. Pebbles lifted from the ground, floating upward, caught in the spiraling flux of Qi around him.
"How pitifully low the energy level of this world is…" he said softly—almost weary.
In the distance, hurried footsteps echoed. Three sect disciples appeared, swords in hand. Their expressions froze as they witnessed the phenomenon surrounding him.
"H-how are those stones floating…?!"
Ling Tian turned his head slightly—just slightly—acknowledging their presence without granting them significance.
His gaze was calm, yet cold—like the heavens casually observing the earth.
One of the disciples forced out his voice.
"L-Ling Tian… what is your cultivation level? W-we were ordered by the elder to ensure that no disciple is experimenting with forbidden—"
Ling Tian raised a finger.
Not pointed at them.
Not threatening them.
Just a simple gesture.
And it silenced them instantly.
"I have no obligation to answer you," he replied quietly. "And whichever elder sent you… he should come here himself, if he wishes to speak with me."
His tone was not harsh. Not loud.
Yet every syllable carried unshakable dominance.
The disciples exchanged glances—fear and uncertainty flickering in their eyes. Step by step, they retreated.
Ling Tian closed his eyes once more, whispering:
"I've been restraining myself far too much."
The air surged. Silver-white radiance wrapped his body. Nature itself seemed to bend in acknowledgment of his existence.
At that moment, across the entire sect, a warning bell tolled—without a single hand touching it.
And in the upper chamber of the sect, the highest elder stirred, his voice trembling:
"What… what kind of monster has just awakened within our sect…?"
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