The man soared through the endless expanse of space, gliding past stars that burned like distant jewels and planets slowly spinning in their silent orbits.
Civilization, fragile and tentative, had begun to reemerge even in his absence.
Tiny pockets of life sparkled across the void—budding cultivators striving toward immortality, settlements rising from the dust of long-forgotten worlds.
Yet, despite their efforts, the strength of this new age paled in comparison to the glory he had once known.
The mighty figures who had once shaped the universe, whose names echoed through immortal history, were gone, leaving behind only faint traces of their power.
He observed them quietly, his gaze distant yet piercing, noting the small victories and missteps of these fledgling immortals.
Some had managed to ascend into the immortal realm, touching the heights that had once been his domain, but their number was painfully small.
And even those few could not compare to the titans of the past. The universe was alive, yes, but it had lost its brilliance.
A wistful, almost sorrowful smile spread across his face.
"It's time to leave," he murmured, voice low, carrying both acceptance and regret.
Memories of this realm pressed upon him—the victories, the battles, the companions and rivals whose lives had intertwined with his own.
Every landmark he passed stirred echoes of the past: the great mountains where he had trained, the rivers that had mirrored his reflection in his younger days, the temples that had long since crumbled to dust.
Time had moved forward without him, and the people he had cared for were gone.
There was no place for him here anymore.
With deliberate calm, he stepped forward into the void, a space so deep and endless that it seemed to breathe around him.
Stars and cosmic dust swirled like paint in a dark canvas, bending slightly at the edges as though aware of his presence.
Space parted silently, granting him passage, and the man felt the familiar tingling of absolute freedom.
No locks, no bounds, no waiting—just infinite possibility.
In the blink of an eye, he found himself transported into a lesser, random realm.
A whole new universe stretched before him—untamed, brimming with vitality, and free from the weight of his past.
"Hmmmm…" he muttered softly, finding himself in the heart of a lush, ancient forest.
Towering trees rose like giants, their canopies weaving a living tapestry that filtered sunlight into golden streams.
Bang!
The atmosphere shifted.
From every direction, spirit beasts emerged—wolves with crystalline fur, serpents coiled in dazzling scales, and avian creatures with wings that shimmered like jade.
Yet instead of hostility, a profound silence fell.
One after another, the monsters lowered their bodies to the ground, prostrating deeply until their foreheads pressed against the earth.
The man raised an eyebrow but did nothing. He had not exerted his aura, nor spoken a command.
Still, every beast present could feel it—the ancient call within their bloodlines, an instinctual submission to one far older, far nobler, and infinitely more terrifying than they could ever hope to become.
Their bodies trembled, not out of choice, but out of the primordial fear etched into their very existence.
"Even beasts know to bow," the man mused, his tone calm yet faintly tinged with melancholy.
Their worship was not something he sought, but it was inevitable.
His presence alone demanded reverence.
He looked down at himself then, at the radiant golden war armor that gleamed with celestial light.
Once, it had been a symbol of his triumph, a mantle of invincibility worn across epochs of endless battles.
But here, in this untouched land, it was nothing but a proclamation of dominance he no longer wished to declare.
"I should probably change my war armors to something plain," he sighed, almost with a trace of humor.
With a mere thought, the resplendent golden plates dissolved into nothingness, their brilliance swallowed into the void.
In their place appeared simple black cultivator's robes, plain and unadorned, though the fabric itself subtly shimmered with hidden might.
He tugged at the sleeve and nodded. "Now this should do well for me."
The forest beasts dared not lift their heads. Though his outward appearance had changed, the weight of his existence remained unshakable.
In their primal hearts, they knew—they were standing in the presence of something that could rewrite the fate of this world with a single breath.
And yet, for the first time in countless eons, the man felt strangely at ease.
He extended his divine sense outward, sweeping across the land until he located the nearest city pulsing with life and energy.
With a single step, the world bent to his will—space parted silently, folding and stitching itself back together in an instant.
A heartbeat later, he was there, standing at the threshold of the city.
None had witnessed his arrival; to every onlooker, he simply appeared, as though the air itself had birthed him into existence.
The man stood tall, his plain black robes fluttering softly in the wind.
His wild black hair framed a face so striking that it seemed sculpted by the heavens themselves.
His sharp features glowed with a quiet dominance, his aura muted yet impossible to ignore.
To those around him, he was not merely a traveler—he was an event.
Gasps rippled through the crowd like waves across a pond.
"What a handsome young master!" someone exclaimed.
"Look at him! His presence alone… he must be a great cultivator!" another whispered, unable to tear their eyes away.
"I agree. Just standing there, he puts everyone else to shame. I feel inferior just looking at him!" a third murmured, awe-struck.
Both men and women stared, bewitched by his appearance, their voices mixing into a chorus of admiration and envy.
The simple act of him walking forward seemed to draw the gaze of the entire street.
He moved toward the great gates of the city, calm and unhurried.
Just like any other visitor, he reached into his sleeve and produced the coins for the entrance fee.
But when his turn came, the guard at the gate froze.
A bead of sweat rolled down the man's brow as his knees almost buckled from the pressure of simply standing before him.
Quickly, the guard straightened, forcing a smile that trembled with both fear and reverence. "There's no need for you to pay, great young master," he said hurriedly, waving off the coins with both hands.
"For someone like you, Azure Cloud City is always open. Please, if you would be so kind, just sign your name here. Once you do, the full beauty and privilege of Azure Cloud City will be yours to enjoy—free of charge."
The immortal blinked, suppressing a faint chuckle.
He had lived countless lifetimes, fought wars that shattered worlds, ascended realms of power no mortal could dream of… and now, once again, his greatest challenge revealed itself.
He sighed, rubbing his temple lightly.
"It's really hard to be a handsome man sometimes."
The guard quickly handed him a brush and a sheet of parchment, bowing deeply.
Without hesitation, the immortal signed his name in strong, deliberate strokes.
Dorian Axe.
The ink shimmered faintly as if even the brush had recognized the weight of the name it was writing.
It was a name that, from this very moment, would ripple through the alleys, the markets, the tea houses, and the palaces of Azure Cloud City.
A name that would not stop there, but travel far beyond its walls—until the entire realm trembled in recognition.