The sky cracked.
Not with thunder. Not with lightning.
With presence.
Lee Haneul opened his eyes.
He had been meditating in the lowest chamber of the Windroot Sect's temple, surrounded by cold stone and silence. But when the sound came—that silent rupture of the heavens—he felt it ripple through his core.
Not his spiritual energy.
Not his mind.
But something deeper.
Something… like a memory that didn't belong to him.
He stood slowly, adjusting the wraps on his hands.
Outside, the sect buzzed with subtle panic—disciples whispering about falling stars, elders nervously analyzing the sky's unnatural hue.
None of them understood what it meant.
But Haneul did.
He's close…
His twin, Lee Haeun, was making waves in the Middle Realm.
Every cultivation sense in Haneul's body, tuned beyond mortal level, screamed with quiet recognition.
Not fear.
Not excitement.
Just a shift.
He stepped outside, and the sky was tinted faint violet, painted with impossible clouds that moved against the wind. Birds no longer flew. Beasts were uneasy. The very air carried a tension like a bowstring drawn to its limit.
Senior Lee—his teacher, though the two barely spoke now—was already on the highest terrace. The elder's robes were ruffled by an invisible pressure that made even air cultivators struggle to breathe.
"You felt it too," Senior Lee said without turning.
Haneul didn't answer. He simply walked beside him and looked up.
"What was it?" Senior Lee asked.
Haneul closed his eyes.
"A ripple from the Middle Realm."
"From a god?"
Haneul shook his head. "From someone… who's not supposed to be one yet."
Senior Lee turned to him, eyes narrowed.
"Your brother?"
Haneul didn't flinch.
"He found something."
"Then we must prepare."
But Haneul wasn't thinking about preparation.
He was thinking about timing.
Because this wasn't random.
The Dragon and Phoenix Tournament had just been announced.
The gods had begun stirring.
And his brother had made contact with the Nameless One's legacy.
None of it was coincidence.
Someone was pulling strings.
Or something was waking up.
That night, Haneul moved in secret.
He wasn't supposed to leave the sect grounds. He was still officially a disciple.
But no one stopped him.
His presence—the way he walked—was enough to silence guards and fool patrols. He didn't hide. He just moved like someone who belonged wherever he went.
And his destination was clear:
The Jade Archive.
A hidden, forbidden library sealed by the Murim Alliance itself. One that only sect leaders or top-ranking elders could access.
Or someone like Haneul.
The Jade Archive was buried beneath a dead waterfall, hidden by spiritual formations so complex they folded reality in on itself. But Haneul didn't break them.
He walked through them.
Not by force.
By understanding.
Inside, he lit no torches.
He simply walked until the air got colder, until the walls grew rougher, until dust no longer clung to anything—as if the knowledge here was too heavy for decay.
And at the far end of the chamber:
A pedestal.
On it sat an ancient record.
One he had only heard rumors of:
"The Gods Who Fell."
He read for hours.
There had once been more gods than the world knew.
Not just the Martial, Sword, and Demon Gods.
Others, now erased.
Gods of Emotion. Of Silence. Of Thought. Of Ash.
Each one sealed. Forgotten.
Until now.
Haneul closed the text slowly.
"The world isn't waking up," he whispered.
"It's being unlocked."
Suddenly, the archive trembled.
Not from power—but from attention.
Something… looked at him.
From above the world.
From outside of understanding.
And then it passed.
He exited the archive at sunrise. The sky had returned to blue.
But the world felt lighter.
As if the weight of a truth too big to hold had brushed by and moved on.
As he returned to the sect, an elder approached him hurriedly.
"Disciple Lee—! You've been summoned to the central hall!"
"Why?"
"The Alliance has named you… one of the contenders for the Phoenix bracket."
He paused.
Then smiled, just a little.
"Of course they did."
Because whether the world knew it or not—
Lee Haneul was ready.
Not just to compete.
But to unravel whatever fate was hurtling toward them all.
And unlike his brother…
He didn't need a legend to follow.
He would become one.