In the depths of a vast and ancient hall, twelve elders sat around an enormous obsidian table. Their robes rustled softly as they leaned forward, their gazes locked onto the relic resting at the center.
An old device—one that had survived eras, dynasties, and the rise and fall of sects.
A heavy stillness hung in the air.
Even the flickering torches along the walls seemed hesitant to burn too brightly, as if afraid to disturb what was about to happen.
Then—
Buzz…
A faint hum rippled out.
The device trembled.
Once.
Twice.
And then the trembling intensified rapidly, as if something within it was trying to burst free.
Thin cracks spider-webbed across its surface.
BOOM!
The device detonated in a blinding flash, splintering the massive table into shards. Dust billowed up, filling the hall with pale smoke.
Shock rippled through the elders.
Some shot to their feet, faces pale.
Others clutched their robes, eyes wide with disbelief.
But beneath all the fear… was exhilaration.
They had waited countless generations for this sign.
The elder seated at the head slowly stood. His long white hair draped over his shoulders, and his expression—usually calm and unreadable—was sharpened with weight.
He exhaled deeply.
"…It has begun."
His voice was soft, yet it echoed through the ruined hall like thunder rolling across a storm-ridden sky.
"The destined time has arrived. The moment we have awaited for uncountable years."
He extended his hand toward the elder beside him.
"Diviner Qing. Begin the divination."
The man addressed—Diviner Qing—stepped forward. He was tall, thin, with long grey eyebrows and a calm presence that made the space around him feel strangely quiet.
"Yes, Leader."
He knelt and placed several ancient items before him—weathered stones, talismans etched with forgotten runes, metallic rods that hummed faintly, and charms passed down through an age when even myths were young.
His fingers formed complex seals.
The items rose, spinning slowly, glowing with a pale ethereal light.
The torches dimmed as if the world itself was inhaling.
Light converged.
Reality twisted.
And a vision surged into Diviner Qing's mind.
He saw—
A man and a woman standing together against a calamity vast enough to swallow the sky.
Storms of destruction howled behind them.
Mountains crumbled.
The heavens cracked like fragile porcelain.
Somewhere in the deepest shadows of that collapsing world, Diviner Qing sensed a presence—something ancient, unfathomable… waiting.
He pushed deeper.
The vision shattered.
His breath turned ragged. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
Two flashes of light followed.
Two locations appeared with absolute clarity:
Heavenly Martial Sect.
Zhou Family.
Diviner Qing opened his eyes.
"The fate has twisted," he whispered, voice trembling slightly. "The destined one has appeared… but his future is entangled with a girl from the Zhou family. Their fates are inseparable."
A stunned silence swallowed the hall.
This was not recorded in their ancient scriptures.
The destined one was supposed to be alone—untouched by mortal ties.
Everything was deviating.
Finally, Leader Zhang Yuan spoke, his tone steady but grave.
"If this is the will of fate, then we must follow the path laid before us. What matters is that their destinies do not drift apart. Diviner Qing, the arrangements will fall to you."
Diviner Qing bowed deeply.
"Yes, Leader."
Only after a long, heavy discussion did the elders disperse, leaving the hall in ruins and silence.
Far away—
beyond cities, beyond roads, beyond human presence—
A vast, deadly forest stretched endlessly beneath the sky.
Ancient trees towered like titans.
Ferocious spiritual beasts roamed freely.
Each step inside was a gamble with death.
Deep within this wilderness, a cave pulsed faintly with spiritual energy.
Inside, a man sat cross-legged—back straight, face calm, aura fierce.
Lee San, one of Heavenly Martial Sect's powerful elders, was attempting a breakthrough.
Spiritual energy surged around him like a storm, coiling and condensing, pressing toward a single point.
Then—
Uwaaa… Uwaaa…
A soft cry drifted in on the wind.
Lee San's eyes snapped open.
His breathing faltered.
A baby's cry?
Here?
Right now, at the most crucial moment?
At first he suspected an illusion—a trial of the heart. Breakthroughs often triggered hallucinations.
But—
Uwaaa…
The cry grew louder. Clearer.
Real.
Lee San's heart tightened.
"If this continues… the energy backlash might kill the child."
He glanced at his cultivation. The breakthrough was seconds away.
If he stopped now—
He would fail.
His years of accumulation would be damaged, perhaps permanently.
But if he continued—
The infant outside would be overwhelmed by the very spiritual pressure he was releasing.
Grinding his teeth, he forced himself to stand.
Spiritual energy thrashed furiously inside his meridians.
He stumbled toward the cave's entrance.
And there—on a large rock under the shade of ancient trees—
Lay a newborn baby.
Small. Fragile. Crying with all its strength.
No footprints.
No trails.
No lingering aura of any cultivator.
It was as if this child had simply materialized into existence.
A chill crawled down Lee San's spine.
The baby lifted its tiny face, eyes watery and confused—eyes that held the innocence of someone newly born, yet something deeper lingering beneath.
Lee San's heart trembled.
"…This child…"
He made his decision.
Forcing his breakthrough to halt—
Puh!
Blood spilled from his lips.
Agonizing pain shot through his meridians.
He might never be able to attempt this breakthrough again.
But he didn't hesitate.
He picked up the infant gently, carefully supporting its small body.
"We're leaving," he whispered softly.
The baby's cries quieted, as if sensing safety for the first time.
At the Heavenly Martial Sect—
A guard hurried into the main hall and knelt.
"Sect Master, Elder Lee San has returned, but… his aura is unstable. And it appears he has brought something back."
Lee Min rose instantly, his tall figure radiating authority.
"What happened to my brother?"
"He is in his courtyard and asked for your presence."
Lee Min didn't wait another moment.
He rushed through the sect grounds, heart pounding.
His brother never returned in such a state.
When he reached Lee San's courtyard, he froze at the doorway.
Lee San stood shakily inside—pale, exhausted, aura unstable… and holding a small infant wrapped in cloth.
Lee Min's expression twisted with disbelief.
He entered slowly, voice trembling.
"Brother… what happened? You went alone into that forest to break through. Now your breakthrough failed—yet you brought back… a baby?"
Lee San offered a weak, tired smile and began recounting everything.
The cries that interrupted him.
The newborn lying alone in the heart of a deadly forest.
The impossible silence surrounding the child.
The forced halt of his breakthrough.
Lee Min listened, speechless.
A failed breakthrough…
A baby appearing out of thin air…
In a forest where nothing human survives…
None of it added up.
But deep in his heart, he felt it—
This was no ordinary child.
This was the beginning of something the world was not ready for.