The morning sun filtered gently into Kael's chamber. His body still ached faintly, but his mind was sharper than ever. As he sat up, he found Sylara seated calmly nearby, her blade resting across her lap. She had been watching over him through the night.
"You're awake," she said, her tone calm but laced with pride.
Kael rubbed his eyes. "Master… what happened with the trial?"
Sylara's lips curved slightly—not quite a smile, but a shadow of one. "You won, Kael. First place in the Third Trial. The announcement has already been sent to every major clan and sect. Including your family."
Kael froze. His family—the Veynar clan. His siblings, cousins, and rivals. Memories of their scorn and dismissal echoed in his mind.
"They won't believe it," he muttered bitterly. "They'll laugh. They'll say it's impossible for someone like me, with 'lack of talent,' to defeat a Tier Three."
Sylara's gaze sharpened. She rose from her seat, walking to stand before him. "Then let them laugh. Let them deny. You are proof that the heavens themselves have chosen otherwise."
Kael looked up, her words cutting into his doubts.
"Kael," Sylara continued, her voice softening but no less firm, "you are not talentless. You are a rare creation. A genius who cultivates against reason itself. Do not let the blind dictate your worth."
Her words sank deep into his heart. For the first time, Kael allowed himself to breathe—not as someone proving others wrong, but as someone walking his own path.
---
The Rankings
Sylara then handed him a jade slip, glowing faintly. "The rankings for the top ten finishers were announced as well."
Kael infused his qi into the slip, reading the engraved list.
1. Kael Veynar – Arathor Academy
2. Luthar Draven – Gold Continent, House of Draven (Demi-God Clan)
3. Shira Xenthia – Mystical Continent, Xenthia Clan (Demi-God Clan)
4. Irus Malakar – Azura Continent, Malakar Clan (Demi-God Clan)
5. Veyra Talion – Box Scan Continent, Talion Clan (Demi-God Clan)
6. Thorn Eryndor – Auralis Continent, Eryndor Clan (Demi-God Clan)
7. Sora Kaelen – Mystical Continent, House Kaelen (Powerful Noble Clan)
8. Darik Veynar – Auralis Continent, Veynar Clan (Demi-God Clan)
9. Mirae Solinar – Azura Continent, Solinar Clan (Powerful House Clan)
10. Ryven Halcion – Gold Continent, Halcion Clan (Powerful House Clan)
Kael blinked, his heart skipping. Darik Veynar. His own brother had ranked eighth.
So his name would now stand above his brother's—above every scornful cousin, every sneering elder of his clan.
He almost laughed.
Sylara watched his expression carefully. "Do you understand, Kael? Nine of the top ten are scions of Demi-God clans or powerful houses. And yet you… the one dismissed as 'talentless'… stand above them all."
Kael's fists tightened around the jade slip. "Then let them see. Let them all see."
---
A Sky Splitting Arrival
Before Sylara could respond, the ground trembled. A heavy pressure descended from the heavens, a force so overwhelming that even the air itself seemed to bow.
Kael's eyes widened. "What… is that?"
The sky above the academy darkened, clouds swirling violently into a vortex. A single figure descended from the storm, robes flowing, radiating an aura that suffocated even the strongest of cultivators.
He did not walk. He simply stood on air, his feet resting upon invisible laws of heaven.
His presence alone made elders and instructors collapse to one knee. Even Sylara's blade hummed violently in protest, as though begging her to bow.
Kael staggered, sweat pouring from his brow. The pressure was unlike anything he had ever felt—it was beyond mortal comprehension.
And then a voice thundered across the academy grounds.
> "Kneel. The Messenger of the Gods descends."
The elders dropped instantly, their foreheads pressed to the ground. In a flash of light, Academy Master Arathor appeared, his own aura flaring in defiance of the suffocating weight.
"Students, elders, all of you—greet the Messenger!"
As one, the academy bent, voices trembling as they cried out:
> "We greet the Great Messenger of the Gods!"
Kael forced himself to his knees, his body shaking uncontrollably. The Messenger's gaze swept across the assembly—eyes glowing like molten suns, face concealed by a veil of light.
He was not Tier Two. Not Tier Three. Not even Tier One beginning.
He was Tier One, realm of gods—Stage b.
---
The Summons
The Messenger's voice was like thunder wrapped in silk.
"Academy Master Arathor. You, and the rulers of the five great continents—Azura, Gold, Mystical, Box Scan, and Auralis—are hereby summoned. The Gods' Domain has opened its gates."
The crowd gasped. Even Sylara's calm mask cracked for a moment.
The Gods' Domain. The sacred realm where no mortal had set foot in tens of thousands of years. A place of legends—where gods dwelled, where fate itself was woven.
Arathor clasped his hands and bowed low. "We hear and obey, Great Messenger."
The Messenger nodded slightly, his gaze turning toward Kael.
For a brief instant, Kael felt those golden eyes pierce through him, peeling away flesh, bone, and soul. It was as though the Messenger saw everything—his regression, his cultivation, but not the Immortal Book.
Kael's blood ran cold.
But the Messenger said nothing. His attention shifted away, as if Kael were no more than a passing ant.
"Gather the continent masters within three days," the Messenger declared. "The heavens stir. The gods demand your presence."
His aura surged once more, shaking the academy to its foundations. And then—he was gone. The vortex in the sky closed, leaving only silence and the faint crackle of broken space.
---
After the Messenger
The elders and instructors slowly rose, faces pale. Sweat dripped down their brows, their hands trembling from the memory of that oppressive aura.
Sylara exhaled, finally steadying herself. She glanced at Kael, who was still catching his breath. His body felt as though it had been crushed under a mountain.
"That," she said quietly, "was the power of one who walks among the gods."
Kael's throat was dry. "If… if that was just a messenger… then what are the gods themselves like?"
Kael (whisper to himself this was how powerful I was, before I regress, what is going on,why is a mere message as powerful as the me before Regression).
Sylara's eyes flickered with something he had never seen before—hesitation. "Pray you never stand against one."
---
The Academy Master's Words
Arathor addressed the shaken assembly, his voice calm but firm.
"Students. Elders. Remember this day. What you witnessed was but a glimpse of what lies beyond our mortal world. We are ants in the eyes of the heavens. But ants may yet become dragons if they refuse to bow."
He turned, his gaze sweeping over them. "The Gods' Domain calls. The Shadow Clan stirs. And soon, war will reach every continent. Prepare yourselves."
The crowd dispersed slowly, still trembling from the encounter.
Kael remained where he was, his fists clenched. The Messenger's gaze haunted him still. For that single instant, Kael was certain—the godly envoy had seen the Immortal Book within him.
And yet… he had let Kael live.
Why?
---
A Quiet Conversation
Later that night, in the quiet of his chamber, Kael sat cross-legged, still trying to process everything.
Sylara entered, her footsteps light but firm. "Kael."
He looked up.
"Do not let today shake your resolve," she said. "The gods may be powerful, but you are not walking their path—you are walking your own. Remember that."
Kael nodded, though doubt still gnawed at him. "Master… if even the Messenger alone makes us bow, then how can we ever stand against the gods?"
Sylara's gaze hardened. "Because the Immortal Book chose you. And if the legends are true… not even gods can dictate its will."
Her words struck deep. Kael closed his eyes, steadying his breath. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps the path before him was not to cower, but to rise.
The world was changing. The heavens themselves had stirred.
And Kael knew—his role in what was coming would not be small.