There was a strange stillness in the air.
Not peace—peace belonged to the living. This was something older. More ancient. Like the air had stopped moving for a thousand years, waiting for someone to breathe life into it once more.
Xiao Ren stood at the edge of a broken altar, surrounded by jagged stone monoliths covered in crumbling runes. The rain had stopped, though the ground still steamed. His breath came slowly. He was alive—but different. He could feel it in his blood, in his bones, and in the silence that hummed within his soul.
No longer was he blind to the qi of the world.
He could hear it now.
Whispers.
Faint pulses beneath the earth, like the thrum of a sleeping dragon. But it was not the usual qi of cultivated lands. This was something deeper. Heavier. Primordial.
His fingers twitched.
Then curled into fists.
His body still ached, raw from the rebirth, but already he could feel strength flowing into him. His ruined meridians had not only been reconstructed—they had evolved. The paths were wider, denser, laced with threads of lightning essence that shimmered when he focused.
"…It wasn't just lightning," he muttered to himself, voice rough with disuse. "It was… something else."
The system hadn't spoken again since its awakening, but Xiao Ren could still feel it—dormant, yet watching. Like a cold eye inside his sea of consciousness.
He turned, slowly scanning the land.
The Grave of Fallen Immortals lived up to its name.
Mountains of broken swords and shattered bones littered the black earth. Scars from ancient battles still marked the hills. Some of the corpses were petrified, frozen in agony with expressions still intact. Cultivators who had come here to seek fortune—or bury their shame.
He looked down at the altar.
Symbols had been carved deep into the obsidian stone beneath his feet. Circles within circles, with one symbol at the centre.
He crouched, brushing mud and bone dust away from the glyph.
「逆」
He recognised it.
"Ni" — to defy.
A symbol banned from cultivation texts across the empire. It meant rebellion. Heresy. A mark used only by those who went against the Mandate of Heaven.
So why was it here?
Why had he been thrown upon this very altar?
He narrowed his eyes.
The coincidence was too neat. Too intentional.
"Someone wanted me to awaken here," he said quietly.
But who?
And why?
He was still asking himself that when he heard it.
A whisper—sharp, feminine, and too close.
"You shouldn't be here."
His head snapped up.
There, just beyond the edge of the broken altar, stood a figure clad in grey robes. Her face was hidden beneath a hood, but her posture was relaxed—arms crossed, weight on one hip. She didn't move toward him, but neither did she flinch when he stepped closer.
"Who are you?" Xiao Ren asked.
"You weren't supposed to survive," the woman said instead. "Let alone awaken… that."
Her voice was calm, almost bored. But there was tension beneath the surface.
He frowned. "Are you with the empire?"
She gave a short, sharp laugh. "The empire wouldn't dare set foot in this place. No... I walk my own path. Just like you do now."
He didn't lower his guard.
Lightning danced faintly across his fingertips.
"Then why are you here?"
"To see if the rumours were true."
She stepped forward.
Her hood slipped slightly, revealing the edge of a pale cheek and lips curled into a faint smirk. She wasn't old—perhaps eighteen or nineteen. Her spiritual pressure was… strange. Not overwhelming, but distorted. Like it was layered with something she was trying to suppress.
"Years ago", she continued, "a prophecy was spoken in the dead tongue of the North: When the seventh flame is extinguished and the sky cracks thrice, the defier shall rise upon the cursed altar."
Xiao Ren narrowed his eyes.
She pointed to the sky.
"The heavens cracked three times when you were struck."
"And the flame?" he asked.
"The flame was you—Seventh Prince of the Empire." Her voice softened just a little. "They extinguished your name. Your blood. Your future. But in doing so... they fulfilled the prophecy."
Xiao Ren was silent for a moment.
Then: "Why are you telling me this?"
The girl tilted her head. "Because I want to see what you'll become."
She turned her back on him and walked away, her voice drifting in the air like smoke.
"Follow the tombs. They lead east. But be careful. You're not the only one who awakened tonight."
She vanished into the mist.
Xiao Ren stood alone again.
But the silence no longer pressed against him. It had changed—vibrating now with tension. Like the world itself was waiting to see what he would do next.
He looked down at his palm.
His qi was still forming, wild and incomplete. But with the system's gift, he now had access to something rare: Primal Lightning Essence.
It wasn't just an energy source. It was a law.
A law that defied cultivation orthodoxy.
One that could forge a new path from scratch.
But he needed strength. Fast.
Food. Shelter. Qi resources.
His stomach growled for the first time in days.
He stumbled toward the direction the woman had pointed—toward the line of crumbled tombs that stretched along a narrow gorge.
Hours later
Night returned.
The tombs grew stranger the deeper he went.
Some were shaped like pyramids. Others were massive skulls carved into mountainsides. Most were silent, long emptied by scavengers or time. But one stood intact—a dome of cracked blackstone ringed with statues of headless monks.
He entered.
Inside, the walls were engraved with countless words. Not in any script he recognised, but the system hummed in response.
[Foreign script detected... Translating...][Legacy tomb identified: Remnant of the Dao-Splitter Sect][Danger Level: Moderate][Reward: Possible spiritual relics or techniques][Caution: Undead qi detected]
Xiao Ren exhaled.
His first trial.
He stepped inside.