The battlefield roared with unbridled fury. Though the clash with the Royal Army had reached its zenith and the once-mighty soldiers raged in despair at the fall of their champion, my heart remained as calm as a still lake. Amid the remnants of their furious assault, I allowed myself a small, satisfied smile.
With a quick, decisive motion, I activated the system. The familiar red interface flickered before my eyes, and I tapped the small, glowing icon labeled "Travel Back." In an instant, I was engulfed in a burst of swirling blinding light. The cacophony of battle, the cries of enraged soldiers, and the discordant clangor of shattered aura all faded as I was pulled away from that brutal confrontation.
When the world came back into focus, I found myself not amidst a dusty battlefield but back in my own realm—a humble stable of the Dark Moon Sect. I lay sprawled amongst a pile of fresh hay, the familiar scent of straw and the low, steady moaning of sacred beasts a comforting contrast to the chaos of the distant war. As I slowly rose to my feet, a congratulatory notification appeared on my system:
> Congratulations: Return Successful. Rewards Unlocked!
Immediately, a new window blossomed before my eyes, showcasing the spoils of my journey. Among them shimmered a finely woven cloak—its deep, midnight hue imbued with mystic patterns—that possessed a rare ability: it could hide one's true cultivation level from prying eyes. Next to it, an ancient alchemy technique book.
Before I could marvel further at these rewards, a sudden commotion outside the stable shattered the quiet. I set the book carefully aside and stepped outside. A cluster of people had gathered near the entrance—a restless throng of sect disciples and commoners alike. Their voices murmured in excitement and urgency.
"Hey, what's all this about?" I asked a nearby attendee, my curiosity piqued by the unexpected assembly.
A young man, his face marked by both awe and anxiety, stepped forward. "It's the Outer Sect's disciple rankings today," he replied. "I heard our sect's saintess, Fenyue, is presiding over the ceremonies. They say her presence alone can calm even the fiercest storms."
I furrowed my brow at the name—Fenyue. The saintess from the fox tribe, renowned for her mesmerizing beauty and irresistible charm. Her reputation was as luminous as the stars overhead, and her voice echoed with the wisdom of centuries.
Then a thought struck me, and I mused with a half-smile, "Three months of battle in the other realm… and here, it turns out, three months there equal three days in our world."
As the crowd's murmur swelled into a cacophony of excitement, I headed toward the main square. The Outer Sect's disciple rankings were about to unfold, and I felt that even in laxer times of relative peace, the seeds of destiny were germinating anew.
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