The silence of the Abyss Void lingered long after the Supreme Dragon Lord vanished.
Kael stood frozen, heart pounding in his chest, his mind racing with everything he had just witnessed. The Gilded Steward—an untouchable figure in the heavens—had been expelled with a mere flick of a finger. And Kael himself… healed, acknowledged, chosen.
But more than that, the vision.
That vision haunted him.
He clenched his fists, staring down at his palms. That wasn't me. It can't have been me.
The Dragon Lord had spoken of a past life, of some great existence that tied him to the Immortal Book. Yet Kael felt no connection to it. The memories that flashed before him felt distant, alien.
I'm not a dragon. I wasn't born in the stars. I'm me—Kael, son of a commoner, a regressor who walked this path once already. So why… why did I see that?
His thoughts twisted, but he shook his head violently. Now wasn't the time.
The pocket dimension called to him.
---
Entering the Pocket Dimension
Kael stepped forward into the space created by the Supreme Dragon Lord. The air shifted, and suddenly he was somewhere else entirely.
A world within a world unfolded before him.
The sky was endless blue, with no sun yet radiant light. Streams of pure spiritual energy flowed like rivers through lush forests. The ground was rich with qi, every breath like drinking the nectar of heaven.
Kael froze in awe. This… this place is perfect for cultivation.
For the first time since he had entered the abyss, his body felt no weight, no suffocating pressure, no looming death. Here, he could breathe. He could rest. He could grow.
Kael closed his eyes, drawing in the qi. It flowed into him instantly, like an eager tide rushing to fill a void. His meridians sang, his dantian pulsed with light. The Immortal Book's mark on his chest burned faintly, as if resonating with the energy around him.
His lips curved in a rare smile. "Refreshing…"
He wanted to sink into this place, to stay, to cultivate until his body and soul reached heights no one could imagine.
But the thought of his family struck him like a blade.
His parents. His brother, Darius—even though he hated him. The Princess. His clan. All of them… living, waiting, struggling.
Kael's chest tightened. I can't stay here forever. I need to be with them.
---
Confronting Dreadfang
Kael left the pocket dimension, stepping back into the Abyss Void where Dreadfang still stood silently, his arms crossed.
"Dreadfang," Kael said firmly. "You need to let me out. I can't stay here. I have a family. People waiting for me. Please… I need to go back."
Dreadfang's molten eyes turned toward him, unblinking. "No."
Kael's jaw tightened. "What do you mean, 'no'? You saw what happened. That god will come back for me. I can't hide in here forever."
"You misunderstand," Dreadfang replied calmly, his voice carrying the weight of ages. "It is precisely because the Steward will return that you cannot leave. If you step into the outside world now, the gods will sense you. You are not ready to face them."
Kael's heart pounded. He wanted to scream, to argue, but deep down, he knew Dreadfang was right.
Still, he pressed on. "Then what am I supposed to do? Hide here while my family suffers?"
Dreadfang's gaze softened—barely. "There is… one way."
Kael's eyes sharpened. "Tell me."
---
The Clone Path
Dreadfang raised his hand, a flicker of molten flame dancing across his palm. "You cannot leave as you are. But you may send a piece of yourself."
Kael frowned. "A piece of myself…?"
"A clone," Dreadfang explained. "A body forged from essence, carrying your spiritual will. It would be weaker than you, limited… but it would allow you to walk outside, unseen by the gods. They would not sense the Book within you if it lies dormant in your true body."
Kael's breath caught. Hope sparked in his chest.
But Dreadfang's tone hardened. "However, this path is not so simple. To withstand the transfer of your spiritual body, the vessel must be strong. At least the level of Tier Three. You, Kael, are not yet there. Until you reach it, you cannot create the clone."
Kael clenched his fists. Tier Three… He was only at the early Sage of Tier Four equivalent, yet he had already fought beyond his limits. Tier Three was still far off.
But it was a path. A real path.
"So if I reach Tier Three… you'll help me create the clone?" Kael asked, voice steady.
Dreadfang nodded once. "Yes. I will shape it with my power. But the cultivation is yours alone. You must advance. You must endure. Only then will you walk outside again."
---
The Doubt of Identity
Kael sat in silence for a long time. His eyes drifted to the endless abyss, to the place where the Supreme Dragon Lord had stood.
His thoughts churned again. The vision. The "past life." The declaration that he had once been something greater.
But that wasn't me.
He whispered under his breath, so faint Dreadfang could not hear: "I'm not a dragon. I'm Kael. I'm a regression. I've lived this life before, walked this path already. That vision… it's not mine. It can't be."
Yet part of him wondered. The Immortal Book had chosen him. The Dragon Lord had confirmed it. Could there be something deeper he didn't understand?
His hand tightened into a fist. "No. Whatever they saw, whatever that vision was, it wasn't me. I know who I am."
For the first time in a long while, he felt the fire of determination rise within him.
---
Resolve
Kael rose to his feet, meeting Dreadfang's molten gaze.
"Fine. I'll reach Tier Three. And when I do… you'll make the clone."
Dreadfang smirked faintly. "Good. That is the only way. Struggle. Fight. Break through. If you truly are the one chosen by the Book, then prove it."
Kael turned back toward the pocket dimension, his heart heavy yet burning with purpose.
"I will," he muttered to himself. "I'll reach Tier Three. I'll protect my family. And I'll prove… that I don't need to be anyone else. Not a past life. Not a dragon. Just me."
As he stepped into the glowing entrance of the pocket dimension once more, the qi rushed to greet him, embracing him like fire and storm.
This was the beginning of a new trial.
Not survival against beasts.
Not war against gods.
But cultivation—the endless climb of power.
And Kael would climb.
Until the heavens themselves trembled.