Planet Suzaku.
Country of Zhao, Heng Yue Sect.
Towering cliffs stretched high into the heavens, and atop one of them stood a majestic and ancient sect, constructed in traditional style—grand and awe-inspiring. The imposing gatehouse was carved from deep black stone that emitted a faint glow, etched with ancient, mystical runes that pulsed subtly with power.
Flanking the gatehouse stood colossal stone columns, each entwined with lifelike carvings of cloud dragons, their fierce eyes wide open, as if they would break free and ascend to the skies at any moment. The layered eaves of the sect's architecture extended outward like the wings of a spirit bird ready to soar, adding an ethereal beauty amidst the mist and clouds that drifted lazily through the mountain air.
As one of the top cultivation sects in the Country of Zhao, the Heng Yue Sect was currently hosting an exchange competition with the Xuan Dao Sect. It was a grand event to assess and compare the strength of both sects, attracting the attention of many onlookers.
"We don't have such events in the Luohe Sect," a woman's gentle voice spoke.
The one who spoke was a breathtakingly beautiful woman. Her brows were arched like smoke, her eyes sparkled like spring blossoms, and her entire being radiated an elegant, serene charm. Like a lotus in bloom, her presence was refined and graceful. Her tone was soft, every gesture revealing natural poise and quiet strength.
"Most of the cultivators here practice killing techniques," she continued. "Unlike us fire cultivators in Luohe Sect, who focus on alchemy and forging to suppress evil."
The man beside her sighed deeply. "Wan'er, once this competition is over, we should return to the Luohe Sect. If the ancestors discover that we've wandered off and neglected our cultivation, I fear they won't take it lightly."
"I understand…" Li Muwan nodded gently, her gaze fixed on the distant square of Heng Yue Sect. Her pearly teeth bit her lower lip ever so slightly, her starlit eyes filled with a distant longing.
As her brother, Li Qiqing, who had depended on her since childhood, understood this look all too well. For many years now, Li Muwan had quietly held someone dear in her heart—a figure no one else seemed to know.
She had once told him that this person was a peerless talent of Heng Yue Sect. Yet, after countless inquiries, they found no one who matched the name she remembered.
Just as Li Qiqing was about to speak again, the skies above—originally bright and blue like a sea of tranquility—suddenly darkened. Ominous clouds surged, lightning crackled, and the air trembled with pressure as bronze-colored bolts of heavenly thunder danced like dragons and serpents in the sky.
The disciples of both Heng Yue and Xuan Dao Sects looked up in horror at the figure emerging within the blood-red mist above. A single glance at this figure was enough to make their very souls tremble, as if being forcibly pulled from their bodies.
Among the thunderclouds, a colossal, hundred-meter-long blood-red dragon coiled and flew freely. Atop its fearsome head stood a youth clad in crimson robes. His face was pale, cold, and handsome, emanating a chilling killing aura. His long silver-white hair fluttered gently in the wind.
"Heng Yue Sect... I have finally returned," the youth spoke.
His name was Lin Che, once the most dazzling genius of Heng Yue Sect, the personal disciple of Sect Leader Huang Long, and hailed as the greatest prodigy on Planet Suzaku.
Lin Che was a time traveler blessed with extraordinary talent and a divine spiritual body. He began cultivating Qi at three, formed his foundation at five, and reached the peak of the Foundation Establishment Realm at eight. At thirteen, he broke through to the Core Formation Realm, becoming the first person on the Suzaku Star to do so at that age.
His name echoed throughout the Country of Zhao, attracting even the attention of Lin Yi, an envoy of the powerful Tongtian Tower.
But tragedy soon followed. As the pride of Heng Yue Sect, Lin Che was granted a rare opportunity to enter the forbidden battlefield outside the realm—a place open only once every hundred years. However, just as he stepped into the battlefield, he was sucked into a sudden spatial rift and vanished without a trace.
Desperate, Huang Long risked everything to enter the battlefield in search of his beloved disciple, but returned empty-handed. Later, even Lin Yi, together with the Troll Tribe member, scoured the battlefield—but still found nothing.
Eventually, they could only assume Lin Che had perished. Even the great Huang Long lost his final sliver of hope.
What they didn't know was that Lin Che had not died. Instead, he was transported to an even more perilous world—the Land of the Ancient God.
There, Lin Che's life was an endless torment. Every day, he faced ruthless pursuers and deadly soul spirits that attacked relentlessly. He survived through sheer will, cultivating amidst slaughter, battling despair.
Only after finally breaking through to the Great Cycle of Diety Transformation Realm, after decades of hardship, did he earn the right to leave that wretched land. A century had passed. The world had changed. People had moved on.
How many centuries does one get in a lifetime?
"Who dares trespass upon our Heng Yue Sect?!"
Several Core Formation cultivators instantly emerged, glaring at the youth in the air. Disciples all around drew their spiritual weapons, their faces grim as they took defensive stances against the unfamiliar yet overwhelming aura.
Lin Che slowly descended to the ground, one hand behind his back. Calmly, he spoke: "Elder Liu Wenju, Elder Li Qinghou... it has been a long time."
The two white-haired elders stiffened in surprise. The names spoken struck something in their memories, but the face before them was unfamiliar.
"Who are you?" Liu Wenju questioned, his tone cautious and hostile. "How do you know us?"
Lin Che raised his right hand. A deep-blue jade plaque materialized in the air with a wave of his fingers. Upon it, one massive character shone with ethereal light—"Lin."
The moment the plaque appeared, every elder's expression changed. Eyes widened. Jaws dropped. That jade token—only one disciple in the entire thousand-year history of Heng Yue Sect had ever possessed it.
That disciple was none other than the peerless genius thought to have perished a hundred years ago—Lin Che!
"You... are truly Lin Che?!"
Liu Wenju's voice trembled as he stared in disbelief at the young man before him.
Gasps echoed throughout the crowd. The elders exchanged looks of shock. No one had expected Lin Che—the fallen star of Heng Yue Sect—to return in such a terrifying and awe-inspiring manner.
Sect Master Huang Long stepped forward, his body shaking. Memories of the past flooded his mind—scenes of Lin Che's brilliance, his perseverance, his loyalty. With misty eyes and trembling lips, he whispered:
"It's really you... Che'er...?!"
"I've been gone a hundred years. Has Master truly forgotten me?"
Lin Che's voice was cold as frost, the weight of a hundred years of suffering etched into every syllable. His once vibrant spirit now cloaked in a quiet, overwhelming sorrow. The battles he'd endured, the countless deaths he'd faced—they had carved this loneliness deep into his soul. His silver hair had turned white from grief, not age.
Master Huang Long stumbled toward him, trembling with emotion. Scenes of Lin Che's youth played through his mind—his laughter, his discipline, his talent. He clutched Lin Che's shoulders tightly, his voice breaking with tears:
"Where have you been all these years? Why didn't you come back if you were alive?!"