Lestes awoke from a slumber that felt as long as eternity.
Once, he had stood at the very summit of cultivation, a figure whose name echoed across realms. But that was long ago. After a single miscalculation—one mistake born from arrogance—he had lost the most precious person in his life.
His mother.
Her death was his responsibility. No matter how many years passed, that truth never changed.
Crushed by grief, his cultivation collapsed. His once-boundless power scattered like ash in the wind, and his consciousness sank into a deep, deathlike sleep.
Time, however, was relentless.
And now, at last, he had awakened.
Cold pierced his senses.
Lestes opened his eyes to a world of ice and silence. Jagged frost coated the cavern walls, and a faint blue glow reflected off frozen stone.
"An ice cave…" he murmured, his voice hoarse.
His body felt heavy—stiff, unresponsive. Ice had sealed him in place, encasing him like a tomb. Gathering what little strength he had, Lestes forced himself into a cross-legged position. Each movement sent pain through his limbs, but he endured.
After a long while, warmth slowly returned to his body. The ice cracked and fell away. He stood, steadying himself, then walked toward the cave's exit.
Outside, a dense forest stretched endlessly beneath a towering waterfall. Mist filled the air, and the roar of falling water drowned out all other sound.
He frowned.
"…Am I forgetting something?"
The feeling lingered, elusive and unsettling. After a moment, he dismissed it.
"Whatever it is, it can wait."
He lifted his gaze toward the night sky. The stars were unfamiliar—proof of how long he had slept.
Although his cultivation was gone, his soul remained intact.
Immortal.
At his former level, even stripped of power, his understanding of heaven and earth far surpassed ordinary cultivators. Minor divinations were still possible with the soul alone.
He traced invisible patterns in the air, eyes narrowing.
"That direction," he said quietly. "I should encounter someone soon."
He began to walk.
Not long after, hurried footsteps echoed through the forest.
A young woman burst into view, running toward him with desperation written across her face.
"Save me!" she cried. "Please!"
Moments later, three men emerged from the shadows, chasing her. They slowed when they saw Lestes, their expressions wary as they examined him.
No qi fluctuations.
No visible cultivation.
At first glance, he seemed like an ordinary man.
But this was the Fallen Demon Forest—a forbidden land steeped in ancient bloodshed. Anyone who could walk here unharmed was anything but ordinary.
The three men hesitated.
"Please…" the girl pleaded again, her voice trembling.
Lestes looked at her.
She was striking—refined features, a slender yet graceful figure, eyes bright even in fear. For a fleeting instant, a disturbing impulse stirred within him, sharp and intrusive.
He froze.
Cold sweat formed on his brow.
Why would such a thought surface now?
Before he could answer himself, one of the pursuers stepped forward.
"Your Excellency," the man said cautiously, "we advise you not to interfere. We are elders of the Feng Clan. This woman is a traitor. The Feng Clan is among the greatest powers on the continent. Making us your enemy would not be wise."
Lestes ignored him.
His attention turned inward.
Then he remembered.
Before falling into slumber, he had fought a terrifying existence—a headless immortal serpent, a being ruled by base instincts and boundless desire. The creature's immortal soul could not be destroyed, so Lestes had sealed it within his own soul, intending to refine it over time.
But he never had the chance.
Now, weakened and newly awakened, the seal had begun to loosen.
The serpent's influence had begun to leak.
That explained the intrusive thought.
Troublesome, he thought calmly.
Soul purification would take time—far more than days. Until then, he would need absolute control… and a method to manage the beast within.
"Your Excellency!" the man warned again. "Once the Feng Clan marks you, there will be no escape!"
Lestes finally looked at them.
His gaze was flat.
"As long as you save me," the girl suddenly said, forcing herself to speak, "I'm willing to pay any price."
That caught his attention.
He studied her for a moment. "Saving you is easy," he replied. "The question is—what can you offer?"
She understood the implication immediately.
Her name was Feng Luochen—the legitimate daughter of the Feng Clan's lord. Her mother had died early. While her father was away, her stepmother had moved to eliminate her. Betrayed and poisoned by someone she trusted, she had fled into this forest as her last gamble.
Her cultivation had been crippled.
Her options were gone.
"…What do you want?" she asked quietly.
"I want your loyalty," Lestes said. "Become mine. Live. Or refuse—and die here."
Her heart clenched.
A slave's fate was cruel. Her life, her freedom—everything would belong to another. Yet death meant the end of all hope.
"I won't turn you into a furnace," Lestes added calmly. "You'll serve as my maid."
She looked up, shocked.
After a long breath, she nodded. "I agree."
As long as she lived, revenge was still possible.
"Good."
Lestes bit his fingertip and placed a single drop of blood on her forehead.
"Don't resist."
The blood sank into her soul, forming an invisible seal.
"I've marked you," he said. "From this moment on, you are mine. My first maid."
Her fate was sealed.
One of the men opened his mouth to speak.
He never finished.
He collapsed, lifeless.
The other two tried to flee—only to fall moments later.
"They're not dead yet," Lestes said calmly. "Finish it. Don't damage the bodies. I have use for them."
Feng Luochen stared at him, heart pounding.
He's giving me my first step toward revenge, she realised.
And she did not hesitate.