Finally returning home, Yantian quickly realized he had never truly been alone.
Most of his youth had been spent surrounded by servants.
Back then, he saw their presence as a substitute for his often-absent parents.
now, more mature and aware of what family really meant, he went around apologizing for how he had treated them.
In his room, Yantian sat cross-legged, eyes closed.
Just happy to still be alive, he turned his focus inward. He checked his meridians, his source core, and tested whether he could still absorb star qi.
He could—but something was off. After careful inspection, he noticed the rate of absorption had dropped significantly.
The difference was massive. In the past, a single star crystal would fill 20–30% of his core. Now, it barely reached 2–10%.
"What's the cause? Did the bloodline increase the amount of qi I need? But… why wasn't that mentioned in the ancient texts?"
Hundreds of questions flooded his mind, but none brought a clear answer. Maybe the truth was hidden deeper inside.
Focusing, Yantian sent his soul into his source core. Around him stretched an endless void.
Just a million-mile-long empty space.
But in the middle of it… a letter floated.
"A letter? In the middle of nothing?"
Curious, he moved toward it. Before he could react, the letter flew into his hands and its words began to lift off, swirling into the air one by one.
A minute later, the glowing letters twisted and merged together—until they formed a towering figure.
A bulky man stood before him, looking like a weathered military commander rather than a cultivator.
He was about seven feet tall, broad-shouldered with a thick chest.
His short, wild hair and the scar on his left cheek gave him a rough, commanding presence.
As soon as he came to life, the man burst into a loud, full laugh.
He clamped Yantian on the shoulder, grinned, and began cheering with pride.
Each shout made Yantian's source core tremble. Even when facing his father or his masters, Yantian had never felt pressure this strong.
"I CAN'T BELIEVE IT WORKED!" the old man shouted, clearly overwhelmed.
"IT WORKED! WE TOOK THE GAMBLE—AND IT WORKED!"
Worried his core might crack under the strain, Yantian quickly tried to calm him down.
"Senior… senior. Sorry to interrupt, but this humble junior is Xu Yantian."
He bowed politely, hands clasped, showing true respect.
Pleased by the gesture, the man snapped his fingers. His tattered clothes transformed into a sharp military uniform, and his wild hair became a clean buzz cut.
Yantian noticed that both the clothing and hairstyle looked strange—unlike anything common in the Xijuan Kingdom , where he'd grown up as a cultivator.
The old man's warrior-like energy faded. He stood straighter, more serious now, and finally spoke.
"Where is this? And what year is it?"
Yantian blinked, unsure if this was a joke.
But the man's expression was serious. "Just answer."
"You're in the Heavenly Node Continent," Yantian replied. "And the current year is 600 of the Zai Zhen era."
The man's eyes widened. His whole body tensed as he took in Yantian's words. A fierce mix of rage and pain flickered in his eyes.
"Arghhh… so we lost… I did all of this for nothing. I endured six hundred thousand years of darkness… for a dead world."
He collapsed flat on the ground, tears streaming down his face.
But Yantian could tell—these weren't tears of sadness.
They were tears of anger, regret, and deep loss.
The man kept whispering to himself, over and over: "It's all gone… it's all gone…"
Seeing him like that, Yantian walked over and sat beside the mysterious figure.
"What's wrong with you, gramps?"
The old man turned his head, his eyes heavy with pain. He looked years older than he had moments ago.
"What's wrong? Everything. The time I was supposed to wake up—was wrong. And this world…"
Realizing that yelling at Yantian wouldn't help, the man just lay back and stared up at the empty sky.
Then suddenly—"Wait," he shouted. "What did you say your name was?"
He looked at Yantian with wide eyes, something re-ignited in his voice.
"Xu Yantian. Why? How does that help?"
Yantian was confused, but still tried to be respectful. He gently tugged at his sleeve, unsure what to make of it.
"Hahaha… help? Oh, my boy… your name is the greatest help you could ever give me." The man grinned. "Tell me—what's your ancestor's name?"
Wanting to be helpful, Yantian answered patiently. For the next 20 minutes, the old man bombarded him with questions.
Then suddenly, the man stood up, looked at the sky, and smiled.
"Thank you, my boy. If not for you, I would've remained a failure. A traitor to my people."
He continued, more resolute now.
"But because of you, I'm free. And now… I can fulfill my promise."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a long scroll. On the front, bold characters read:
[The Martial Path of the Lost People]
"It's fate," he said. "It had to be a Xu who awakened me. If it had been anyone else… I might have failed."
Yantian listened closely. He felt something inside him stir—his very soul seemed to call out to the record.
But he couldn't move. He could only watch.
Then, the old man began to explain