Shi Yun Lan felt his consciousness slowly eroding, as if fragments of his very self were being stripped away into endless darkness. It was terrifying—like falling into an abyss with no end. But then, suddenly, a worried voice echoed through the void, pulling him back, preventing his complete collapse. He managed to cling to a faint sense of awareness.
He did not understand what was happening. All around him was pitch-black, a place devoid of hope, as though he had been imprisoned there for eternity. In his mind, only three techniques remained: Water Ripple, Scorching Fire, and Weapon Fundamentals. They seemed so simple, yet his comprehension of them in that moment was profound—unparalleled—as if he himself had authored the techniques and mastered them beyond measure.
A faint beam of light pierced the gloom. His body moved of its own accord, though he had not taken a step. Within himself, he mused: "Is this like the visions I've seen before? Looks like I'm only a spectator this time."
The crack widened, spilling more light into the abyss, and through it stepped a towering, majestic figure. Shion Lan recognized him instantly—the same man from the very first vision. The man advanced mercilessly, striking down all who blocked his path. Soon, another figure appeared, and the two clashed in a battle of legends, their power shaking the very air.
The man wielded techniques of darkness, granting him overwhelming strength, and in the end, he slew his opponent. Then, suddenly, his gaze turned toward Shi Yun Lan.
The boy's body would not respond, as though all that had happened was outside the scope of his reality. Inside, he thought wryly: "If I didn't know this man would treat me kindly, I'd be running right now… not that I could escape anyway!"
The man approached swiftly, seizing the child with trembling hands. His eyes filled with tears as he breathed deeply and whispered:
— "I never thought I'd see you again, my son!"
He embraced the boy so tightly that Shi Yun Lan's bones cried out in protest. At last, the man steadied himself, lifted his child, and declared:
— "I am your father, Shi Yun Han. And you… you are little Lan. Perhaps I failed to protect you and your mother in the past… but this time, I will. Even if it costs me my life!"
Yet despite the warmth in his father's voice, Shi Yun Lan felt nothing inside—only a hollow emptiness.
They emerged from the cavern, and the child realized it had been nothing more than a prison of stone and shadows. His father carried him at impossible speed, crossing deserts, mountains, coasts, and forests in a matter of days. The gales of their passage never touched the boy, for his father shielded him with his power. The child required no food; his father nourished him with his own energy as they traveled without pause.
At last, they arrived at a towering black palace, radiating an aura of majesty and dread. Across its walls was carved the family's creed:
"Shi Yon… It is not your sin to be born in the depths of darkness. But it will be your sin if you fail to find your light in life."
This was the Yun Branch of the great Shi family. As Shi Yun Han entered the palace, men, women, and children alike gathered to greet him as the clan's patriarch.
Shion Lan remembered his father and thought in sorrow: "Both are clan leaders… but the difference between them is like heaven and earth."
A woman stepped forward, her voice tinged with curiosity:
— "Who is this child, dear?"
Shi Yun Han answered with calm authority:
— "He is my son."
Gasps and whispers rippled through the hall. Another woman shouted in disbelief:
— "What?! Then he must be the child of that—"
But her words were cut short as Shi Yun Han's roar thundered through the chamber:
— "Enough!"
The sheer force of his voice knocked her to the ground, though she stood at a distance. With grave seriousness, the patriarch declared:
— "He is my son, the same as any other. The elders may verify it themselves. But since he has no mother, he will be under my direct protection. And anyone who dares to harm him… will not live to see another day!"
His words shook the entire clan, silencing all tongues. Yet the eyes of many still followed the boy—eyes filled with scorn and contempt.
Shi Yun Lan, however, remained indifferent. He ate, drank, slept, and trained. His life was not much different from the cavern: still lonely, still empty, though now touched by sunlight and surrounded by people.
As two years passed, he grew. At five years old, he was rarely seen speaking—even his father could coax only a few words from him amidst the endless duties of clan leadership. Surrounded by others in the training grounds, he still stood alone, his heart bound by silence.
Yet Shi Yun Lan resolved to ignore his grief and isolation. He chose one path forward: to pour all of his emotions into his training, to release everything through relentless practice.
Shi Yun Lan was immersed in his training when one of the guards accidentally stumbled and fell beside him. Flustered, the man bowed hurriedly:
— "Forgive me, young master! I didn't mean to interrupt your training!"
Before he could answer, a woman passed by, a child in her arms. She cast him a narrow, disdainful glance and muttered:
— "It's fine… he's not doing anything worthwhile anyway."
She was one of his father's wives. For two years since he had begun training in the clan, Shi Yun Han, his father, had shown him great favor—so much that it stirred resentment among the women of the household, who could not accept how a child "unwelcome" could outshine their own sons.
But Shi Yun Lan didn't care. He simply nodded to the guard, accepting his apology, and returned to his exercises. His indifference only fueled the woman's anger. She clenched her teeth, then ordered her maid:
— "Seize him and bring him to my chamber."
— "As you command."
The maid rushed forward, but the guard hesitated.
— "But… Patriarch Han will be furious."
The woman smirked coldly.
— "Don't worry. This is an order from the First Lady. Step aside."
While the guard struggled with himself, a calm voice rose behind him:
— "Let her."
Shi Yun Lan had paused his training and was now staring at the maid with lifeless, icy eyes. For an instant, fear crept into her heart, but she pressed on. She reached for him—only to feel the flash of a blade.
The boy's small sword sliced cleanly through her wrists. Stunned, she didn't even feel pain at first. Then, before she could recover, his other hand flared with fire, and he thrust it toward her face, burning it to ash.
The maid's screams pierced the courtyard:
— "Aaah! My lady! Aaaah!"
She was a pitiful sight—face scorched, hands gone. But Shi Yun Lan's voice was flat, indifferent:
— "You dared lay hands on a child of the clan. Since you came on your mistress's order without my consent, this is your punishment."
To him, she was less than nothing, not even worth his gaze. Then his cold eyes shifted to the woman, who stood frozen in shock, her child wailing in her arms. The guard, too, was paralyzed by what he had just witnessed. But Shi Yun Lan merely tilted his head, turned away, and resumed his training as though nothing had happened.
The news spread swiftly through the palace. Though Patriarch Han was displeased, his anger was directed at his wife—had he not warned them before? How dared she defy his word? His son, however, had surprised him greatly. The boy's merciless talent convinced him further: this child was worth investing in. And since Shi Yun Lan had claimed his own justice, Han let the matter rest.
Not long after, Han took his son to the clan's vast library, introducing him to their catalog of martial techniques:
Water techniques: Raindrop, Water Bomb…
Fire techniques: burning Fist, Flame Claws…
Earth techniques: Stone Body, Earth Spikes…
Wind techniques: Raging Storm, Cutting Gale…
Darkness techniques: Shadow Body, Dark Raven, and many more that were the pride of the Shi family.
Though always surrounded by others, Shi Yun Lan remained alone. Only the guard who had chosen to serve him stayed by his side. His father later appointed him a young maid as well, barely four years old but capable of simple tasks. Shion recognized her immediately—she was the same beautiful girl he had glimpsed before in the third version.
Years passed. Shi Yun Lan's name spread through the clan. He mastered every technique given to him, his power growing steadily—though he still had no concept of strength levels. To him, training was just training.
By the time he turned ten, his loyal guard, Leon, who had risen from an ordinary soldier to the personal protector of a boy who might one day lead the clan.
One day Shi Yun Lan asked him:
— "Leon, do you know about the levels of power?"
The question nearly floored him with disbelief, but the young maid, Bi Ri, quickly intervened:
— "My lord sometimes doesn't care about the world at all. Bear with him."
Still, Leon pressed on:
— "You must learn, young master. The world isn't only about fighting!"
Shi Yun Lan's reply was as detached as ever:
— "But what I ask does concern fighting."
Leon nearly lost his mind. He hurried to explain:
— "The levels are Apprentice, Adept, Expert, General, Pillar, Noble, King, Emperor, Transcendent, and finally, Supreme. Your current level is Expert. At your age, that makes you a miracle! But to progress further, you'll need techniques beyond those you practice… or to create one of your own. And that almost never happens."
Shi Yun Lan fell silent, thinking. At last, he set aside his sword and said:
— "Bi Ri, prepare the bath. It's time for me to study."
The two attendants were stunned by his decision. After bathing and eating lightly, he walked to the library, whispering to himself:
"Perhaps I'll find something useful to forge my own technique. Still… I must not disappoint Leon and Bi Ri."
In that moment, he felt his heart beat stronger. Despite his loneliness among the crowd, he realized three people made his life bearable: his father Han, his guard Leon, and the little maid Bi Ri.
Within a year, he devoured the entire library's knowledge. From an ignorant child, he grew into a scholar. His father was overjoyed, proud beyond measure, as though he had no other son but him.
One day, Han said to him:
— "I hear you've reached the peak of Expert. What do you say—shall I grant you a technique from the family vault?"
But Shi Yun Lan shook his head, his voice calm yet resolute:
— "No. I will forge a technique of my own."