Kairin was not the first to feel it.
The square was.
The air thickened, as if mercury had been poured into it. Runes carved into stone, walls, and cultivators' bodies lost their rhythm. Their glow shuddered, dimmed, then flickered.
"What the—" One of the recruiters from the Sect of Rewriting stepped back.
Kairin had not moved.
He simply stood there.
The spiral on his palm rotated slowly, and with each turn, the surrounding runes responded—as if pulled by invisible threads.
"HE'S RESONATING!" shouted a master in a black cloak."SUPPRESS THE MATRIX!"
Too late.
Kairin felt the words of the First Rune take root in his mind.
Runes are language.
He did not gather energy.He did not form a technique.
He placed a comma.
Something clicked in his chest—like a lock opening after years of silence.
The runes around him stopped.
Light vanished for half a heartbeat.
Then—
AN EXPLOSION.
Not of fire.Not of sound.
Of meaning.
Symbols carved into stone scattered as if erased. The sect's barrier cracked in seven places at once. Cultivators were thrown aside like dolls—not by force, but by the loss of support, as if the laws themselves had stopped holding them.
Kairin screamed.
His body could not endure it. Cracks of light spread along his arms—runes forcing their way out without permission.
"KILL HIM!" someone shrieked.
The first strike came from the side.
A master lunged with a blade of runic light—precise, lethal.
Kairin had no time to think.
The spiral on his palm snapped—
—and an empty space appeared between them.
The blade…
Vanished.
It did not deflect.Did not break.
It simply lost meaning.
The master froze, staring at his empty hand as if it had betrayed him.
"What did you do…" he whispered.
"I…" Kairin gasped."I just… removed a word."
The second strike was heavier.
A pressure sphere collapsed from above, trying to stitch Kairin back into the system. Bones cracked. Blood flooded his mouth.
The body is paper, a memory echoed.But do not let it tear.
Kairin dropped to his knees.
And for the first time, he consciously reached out to the rune.
"Help me…" he whispered."I don't want to die here."
The spiral answered with pain.
All the runes on his body ignited at once.
The ground split beneath him, as if someone had opened a page from below. A wave of emptiness swept across the square, erasing everything that was too… defined.
Barriers.Seals.Limitations.
They collapsed.
"RETREAT!" someone screamed."THAT IS NOT HUMAN!"
Kairin did not hear them.
He was already running.
His legs buckled, the world tore itself into fragments, but instinct drove him forward—toward a narrow alley where no runes remained, where old stone still remembered the time before the system.
Behind him—
Roaring.Rage.Fear.
Someone tried to pursue him by flight—and fell when the symbols beneath their feet stopped working.
Kairin burst past the edge of the square.
And vanished.
When the dust settled, silence remained.
Then one of the senior masters slowly knelt, touched the shattered stone, and whispered:
"That was… not a spell."
His fingers trembled.
"That was editing."
For a brief moment, the sky above the city darkened.
Far away,the Towers of Perun's Wrath trembled.
And in many sects that very day, old scrolls were unsealed—each bearing the same warning:
"If he appears—either kill him immediately……or you never will."
Thus, the first legend was born.**CHAPTER 3.
WHEN RUNES CHOOSE**
Kairin was not the first to feel it.
The square was.
The air thickened, as if mercury had been poured into it. Runes carved into stone, walls, and cultivators' bodies lost their rhythm. Their glow shuddered, dimmed, then flickered.
"What the—" One of the recruiters from the Sect of Rewriting stepped back.
Kairin had not moved.
He simply stood there.
The spiral on his palm rotated slowly, and with each turn, the surrounding runes responded—as if pulled by invisible threads.
"HE'S RESONATING!" shouted a master in a black cloak."SUPPRESS THE MATRIX!"
Too late.
Kairin felt the words of the First Rune take root in his mind.
Runes are language.
He did not gather energy.He did not form a technique.
He placed a comma.
Something clicked in his chest—like a lock opening after years of silence.
The runes around him stopped.
Light vanished for half a heartbeat.
Then—
AN EXPLOSION.
Not of fire.Not of sound.
Of meaning.
Symbols carved into stone scattered as if erased. The sect's barrier cracked in seven places at once. Cultivators were thrown aside like dolls—not by force, but by the loss of support, as if the laws themselves had stopped holding them.
Kairin screamed.
His body could not endure it. Cracks of light spread along his arms—runes forcing their way out without permission.
"KILL HIM!" someone shrieked.
The first strike came from the side.
A master lunged with a blade of runic light—precise, lethal.
Kairin had no time to think.
The spiral on his palm snapped—
—and an empty space appeared between them.
The blade…
Vanished.
It did not deflect.Did not break.
It simply lost meaning.
The master froze, staring at his empty hand as if it had betrayed him.
"What did you do…" he whispered.
"I…" Kairin gasped."I just… removed a word."
The second strike was heavier.
A pressure sphere collapsed from above, trying to stitch Kairin back into the system. Bones cracked. Blood flooded his mouth.
The body is paper, a memory echoed.But do not let it tear.
Kairin dropped to his knees.
And for the first time, he consciously reached out to the rune.
"Help me…" he whispered."I don't want to die here."
The spiral answered with pain.
All the runes on his body ignited at once.
The ground split beneath him, as if someone had opened a page from below. A wave of emptiness swept across the square, erasing everything that was too… defined.
Barriers.Seals.Limitations.
They collapsed.
"RETREAT!" someone screamed."THAT IS NOT HUMAN!"
Kairin did not hear them.
He was already running.
His legs buckled, the world tore itself into fragments, but instinct drove him forward—toward a narrow alley where no runes remained, where old stone still remembered the time before the system.
Behind him—
Roaring.Rage.Fear.
Someone tried to pursue him by flight—and fell when the symbols beneath their feet stopped working.
Kairin burst past the edge of the square.
And vanished.
When the dust settled, silence remained.
Then one of the senior masters slowly knelt, touched the shattered stone, and whispered:
"That was… not a spell."
His fingers trembled.
"That was editing."
For a brief moment, the sky above the city darkened.
Far away,the Towers of Perun's Wrath trembled.
And in many sects that very day, old scrolls were unsealed—each bearing the same warning:
"If he appears—either kill him immediately……or you never will."
Thus, the first legend was born.