In the boundless realm of Shenzhou Void, power speaks louder than reason, and the strong reign above all.
Humans, demons, and divine beasts coexist—or so the lower clans and naïve cultivators are led to believe. In truth, this so-called "harmony" is nothing more than a fragile illusion. Beneath the surface, the three great races ceaselessly vie for dominance through politics, schemes, and brutal cultivation wars.
Yet for all their ambition, true supremacy remains unreachable—for one simple reason: balance maintained by absolute power.
The Demon Clan is ruled by the unfathomable Supreme Demon Emperor, a being whose mere presence causes the skies to tremble and lesser bloodlines to kneel.
The Divine Beasts bow only to the eternal Divine Dragon, a creature of unmatched might, said to have been born from the core of the first heavenly flame.
And humanity?
Though individually weaker than the Demon Emperor or Divine Dragon, we have one thing the others do not: numbers.
Our Supreme Human Emperor stands not at the peak of combat strength—but leads a race with over 10 billion cultivators, far outnumbering both demons and beasts combined. In a war of attrition, we are not prey—but an avalanche.
Thus, a strange balance exists in Shenzhou Void.
Not peace. Not unity.
But a silent, oppressive stalemate.
Because in the face of these three supreme entities—no clan, no sect, no secret technique can ever tip the scale.
No matter how much demons scheme, how fiercely the beasts roar, or how cunningly humans maneuver…
In the end, all must bow to the laws of power.
I was born into the Human Empire, not as a commoner or a sect disciple, but as the First Prince—the rightful heir to the throne. A life of power, wealth, and cultivation destiny awaited me.
But everything changed when I turned six.
That was the day I remembered my past life—not as a cultivator, but as a normal human from a strange world called Earth.
A world with no qi, no divine beasts, no sacred clans or heaven-breaking sects.
A world where no one knew of cultivation, flying swords, or spirit stones.
And yet... they achieved things that would leave even Level 4 cultivators dumbstruck.
They flew through the skies—not on swords or spirit artifacts, but in massive metal beasts that crossed thousands of kilometers in mere hours.
They spoke across vast continents, even while oceans separated them—not with sound transmission talismans, but with small glowing rectangles in their hands.
And they reached the moon—that sacred celestial body which only Supreme Beings in Shenzhou Void dare claim to touch.
To the cultivators of this world, Earth would seem primitive.
But to me—
It showed that power doesn't always come from qi.
It comes from knowledge, will, and understanding.
Now, with two lifetimes' worth of memories, I walk the path of a prince...
But my true ambition lies far beyond a mortal throne.
Even with another lifetime of memories, nothing changed.
I was still a mortal prince—admired by millions, yes, but powerless all the same. A child with no cultivation base, no techniques, no strength to call my own.
To the eyes of the common people, I was noble, destined, untouchable.
But to those true cultivators—those monsters who tread the skies and crush mountains—I was nothing more than an ant. A fragile existence they could obliterate with a flick of their fingers.
If not for fate's kindness... I would've been forgotten.
Fortunately, I was born in one of the most powerful empires in Shenzhou Void—a place where even Level 5 or 6 cultivators, beings hailed as near-invincible in other realms, bowed their heads.
And the reason?
My father—the Human Emperor.
A Level 7 Peak cultivator—a titan among men, whose presence alone could silence cities and command armies of elites.
In our world, cultivation is divided into ten levels.
Level 1 marks the first step on the path.
Level 10 is the peak of what most beings can achieve.
Each level is split into Early, Middle, Late, and Peak stages.
But beyond Level 10... lie the Supreme Beings—entities so powerful they are worshipped as gods, feared as calamities, and respected by the heavens themselves.
I was not one of them.
Not yet.
I was merely a powerless boy with two lifetimes trapped in a world where strength ruled all.
But that would not always be the case.
Because while I may have been born weak...
I was born under a throne.
And beneath that throne burns ambition strong enough to shake the heavens.
Just as I was sorting through my thoughts, I heard a soft knock at the door.
"Your Highness," came the familiar voice of Wei Lin, my personal servant.
He stepped in and bowed respectfully.
"His Majesty has instructed me to inform you—your teacher has arrived."
My breath caught for a moment.
This wasn't just any teacher.
Even my father—Emperor Lu Wuyue, the Peak Stage Level 7 cultivator who ruled over the mighty Great Empire—showed this man reverence.
Because my teacher was Master Yun Zhenhai, a Level 8 Early Stage cultivator, one of the most powerful individuals in the human race.
Though my father stood just one step below him and was hailed as a once-in-a-century genius, even he exercised caution. In this world, there were prodigies who could fight across stages within the same level—but crossing between major realms? That required more than talent. It demanded profound enlightenment, destiny, and Dao-defying luck.
This would be my first time meeting Master Yun.
Rumors whispered that he was strict, cold, and undeniably proud. But then again, how could he not be? A Level 8 cultivator could destroy kingdoms with a flick of their hand. Wherever they walked, the world itself seemed to hold its breath.
And me?
I welcomed it.
The stricter he was, the stronger I would become.
Every challenge would bring me closer to the peak.
"Your Highness?" Wei Lin called again, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I rose, adjusted my robe, and stepped into the radiant corridor of the Grand Hall, where sunlight poured through the jade skylights like judgment from the heavens.
I was Lu Tianming, First Prince of the Great Empire.
A child of two worlds.
A mortal among gods.
A boy with a secret no one would ever believe.
And as I walked toward the man who stood just beneath the heavens themselves, I made a vow—not merely to become strong, not merely to rise...
But to reign.
The heavens.
The earth.
Everything—
Would one day bow before the name Lu Tianming.
The doors to the Grand Hall opened without a sound.
There, standing beneath the towering pillars carved with dragons and phoenixes, was a man clad in simple black robes. No crown, no glowing aura—yet the very air warped around him, bending as if the heavens themselves bowed before his presence.
Master Yun Zhenhai.
A Level 8 cultivator.
One of the strongest beings in the entire Great Empire.
A man even the emperor treated with caution.
I stepped forward.
I did not bow.
Instead, I brought my hand to my chest and offered a formal cupped-fist salute—the salute of equals, or at best, reserved for ministers greeting those only slightly above them.
My gaze met his directly, calm and unwavering.
"Lu Tianming greets Master Yun."
For a moment, silence reigned.
Servants behind me held their breath. Wei Lin's face went pale. Even the guards flinched, as if expecting the roof to collapse under the weight of Yun Zhenhai's wrath.
But none came.
The old man's eyes narrowed—not with anger, but with curiosity. His gaze, sharp as an immortal blade, studied me with newfound interest.
He hadn't expected defiance.
He hadn't expected arrogance either.
But pride... measured, composed, and without fear—that, he saw clearly.
"Hmph."
A low sound escaped him. It wasn't mockery.
It was approval—subtle, but real.
With a flick of his finger, a jade scroll emerged from his sleeve and floated toward me.
"This is the Foundation Compression Manual," he said. "A basic manual—widely known, often overlooked. Yet if you cannot comprehend it, you're unworthy of cultivation."
I received the scroll calmly, with both hands. The jade was cold, unnaturally so. As I held it, I felt a strange sensation—like something ancient pressing against the edges of my mind.
"You have three days," he continued. "Understand its essence. Not its surface. I will know the difference."
He turned without further word, his robes brushing the marble floor—but making no sound.
Just before vanishing from sight, his voice echoed softly:
"...Interesting."
And then, he was gone.
No light. No ripple. Just absence—the kind that leaves silence trembling behind it.
I stood there, scroll in hand, a quiet fire burning in my chest.
I was Lu Tianming, First Prince of the Great Empire.
They expected obedience.
They expected fear.
But I would give them neither.
Because even in the presence of legends—I will never forget who I am.
The moment Master Yun Zhenhai vanished from the Grand Hall, the silence he left behind didn't last long.
By the time an hour passed, the entire imperial court was buzzing.
Rumors, like wildfire, spread through the palace corridors, inner courts, and even among the outer sects loyal to the crown.
> "The First Prince didn't bow?"
"To a Level 8 cultivator?"
"He simply gave a cupped-fist salute?"
"Does he not value his life?"
Nobles whispered behind closed doors.
Generals frowned, unsure whether to call it bravery or recklessness.
Even the imperial officials, seasoned and cautious, wore stunned expressions as the news reached the throne room.
At the center of it all sat Emperor Lu Wuyue, silent upon his dragon-carved seat.
No one dared speak directly of it in his presence, but the tension in the air was palpable. Ministers exchanged nervous glances, uncertain of what punishment—or reward—the prince might receive.
Then, the emperor let out a small laugh.
Just once.
Calm. Deep. Contained.
Everyone turned.
"Why are you all so surprised?" the emperor said softly, his voice echoing through the golden hall. "He is my son. The one who will inherit this Great Empire after me. Would you have him grovel before another man, even one as powerful as Master Yun?"
No one dared answer.
But inwardly, many were shaken.
So the emperor had already accepted it.
In fact… he approved.
As courtiers whispered among themselves in hidden chambers, Lu Tianming had long since returned to his quarters.
Within the quiet of his personal chamber, lit by soft lantern-glow and perfumed by burning spirit incense, he sat cross-legged with the jade scroll in front of him.
The Foundation Compression Manual.
Simple on the surface.
But mysterious within.
He didn't waste time.
Others might hesitate, but he had lived once already. And this time, he knew what it meant to be powerless. He knew what it meant to be overlooked.
Not again.
With steady breath and sharp eyes, Lu Tianming placed both hands on the scroll, channeling his will into it.
And so, as the court murmured and the empire watched—
The prince began his first true step on the path of cultivation.