When Long Tianyan returned to the Verdant Mist Sect, the misty morning air seemed to freeze. A strange stillness rippled through the fog-shrouded mountain paths, as if the very heavens paused in breathless anticipation. His robes were torn and scorched at the edges, his long black hair matted with leaves and blood, yet his back remained straight, and his stride was unyielding.
But more than his appearance, it was his aura that struck the disciples silent. It had changed—calmer, deeper, sharper. No longer did he carry the weak and uncertain air of a mocked outer disciple. His golden eyes, once quiet and searching, now held the calm of a gathering storm. Every step he took resonated with a force that could not be explained—only felt, like thunder echoing in a clear sky.
Gasps spread like wildfire through the sect courtyard.
"He's back!"
"Wasn't he thrown from the cliff? How can he be alive?"
"His cultivation… is that the 3rd Layer of the Spiritual Sea Realm?"
Many had believed him dead—discarded like a broken twig by the sect's top genius, Liu Yan, during a night cloaked in cruelty and excuses. That night, masked as a "lesson," had ended with Tianyan being tossed from a cliff in full view of the stars.
Liu Yan, only sixteen, already stood at the 7th Layer of the Spiritual Sea Realm, a prodigy whose talent was matched only by his arrogance. Backed by his powerful grandfather, Elder Liu Tian, one of the core elders of the outer sect, he was untouchable in the eyes of many. None had dared question him, not even when Tianyan vanished.
Yet now, the so-called "dead orphan" had returned—alive, changed, and radiating an energy that did not belong to someone at the 3rd Layer. It was too vast, too ancient… too alive.
Among the growing crowd, some disciples stared in awe, others in shame.
"Is it true? Tianyan has survived and grown?"
"I mocked him once… he looks different now. I can't even meet his eyes."
A few disciples who once ridiculed him now stood stiffly, unsure whether to challenge him again or bow in apology. The winds of the sect were shifting, and the once-scorned boy now walked as if the earth itself moved aside for him.
At the steps of the inner courtyard, a figure froze mid-step. It was Elder Yan, a respected cultivator at the 6th Layer of the Heavenly Passage Realm, her silver hair tied in a dignified bun, her usual stern expression crumbling into disbelief.
Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized him.
"...Tianyan?"
Tears welled in her eyes before she could compose herself. For a long breath, she didn't move—couldn't. Then, her body moved on instinct, her composure forgotten. She rushed down the steps, her arms wide, her robes fluttering behind her like falling leaves.
With a trembling embrace, she pulled him close.
"You're alive... You've truly come back…"
Her voice broke, hoarse and soaked in raw relief. The courtyard fell utterly silent. Elder Yan, known for her indifference and unshakable calm, now cried in front of the entire sect.
"I'm sorry for making you worry," Tianyan whispered, his voice soft but steady. "But I had to survive and become stronger."
She pulled back, studying him closely. His cultivation was still far below Liu Yan's on the surface—but the power coiling within him was no longer ordinary. Her instincts as a veteran cultivator screamed in alarm.
There was something ancient inside him… Something primordial.
At the far edge of the crowd, Liu Yan stood with his arms folded, a sneer fixed on his lips. But inside, his confidence faltered. He stared at Tianyan with a twisted mix of jealousy and dread.
How was he alive?
He had made sure Tianyan wouldn't survive that fall. He remembered the boy's broken expression, the flickering eyes of despair. He had thought it was done. Settled. A bug crushed beneath his feet.
Yet here Tianyan was, not groveling in fear, but standing tall—and his gaze… it made Liu Yan's chest tighten with something he couldn't name.
Was it guilt? No.
Fear? Perhaps.
Jealousy? Most certainly.
Elder Liu Tian, standing behind his grandson, observed in silence. His expression gave away nothing, but his eyes—sharp and cold as ancient steel—narrowed with interest.
Something about this boy had changed.
The balance of power within the sect was no longer as secure as it had seemed just yesterday. The "orphan" they had all discarded had returned as a potential threat. And Elder Liu Tian was not a man who tolerated uncertainty.
By noon, the sect buzzed with rumors. Inner and outer disciples alike murmured about the return of the boy who was supposed to be dead. Some were skeptical. Others fearful. But all felt the same shift in the air—something was beginning.
That very evening, as the sect gathered in the courtyard under the rising moon, Elder Yan stood beside Tianyan. Her robes fluttered in the soft wind, but her voice cut through the air like a blade.
"From this day forward, Long Tianyan will be my personal disciple."
Her eyes swept across the gathering, stern and cold.
"If any disciple dares harm him again—they will face me."
Her words echoed like thunder, and no one dared speak. Even Elder Liu Tian gave no response.
The heavens had tried to bury the prince.
But now, the roots had pierced the stone.
Far beyond the clouds, in the depths of Long Tianyan's Spiritual Sea, the sacred lotus slowly bloomed.
Amid its glowing petals, one of the Nine Dragon Ancestors stirred. His ancient eyes, shimmering with starlight and time itself, opened with slow deliberation.
He gazed at the mortal world below with a faint smile.
"The age of reckoning begins," he murmured.