The Southern Wilderness stretched beneath the golden dawn, its endless mountain ranges clothed in swirling spirit mist and ancient forests that glimmered with hidden power.
For countless centuries, this fertile expanse had been the cradle of rising legends, the burial ground of vanished sects, and the battleground of clashing ambitions.
Here, amidst the fierce winds and fleeting clouds, cultivation sects and ancient clans had risen and fallen like the waves of time itself.
Among these mountains, the Heavenly Sword Sect stood supreme—a divine monument of swords and dao, its roots as deep as the land itself and its prestige reaching into every corner of the wilderness.
Generations of aspiring cultivators and warlords gazed upward at its peaks with awe and longing, knowing that only the most talented might step upon its hallowed stones.The sect's main peak soared high above the land, wreathed in clouds radiant with sword light.
At its summit, a palace of dazzling jade and white stone dominated the skyline. Towering spires jutted into the heavens, while ancient runes shimmered along the walls, illuminating an aura equal parts sanctity and sharpened steel.
The palace seemed less a structure than a colossal sword, waiting patiently amid the sky—silent, serene, yet capable of splitting the world in a single stroke.Gentle spiritual mist drifted along its eaves and courtyards, nourishing the sect's many disciples and bathing visitors in the faint resonance of celestial swords.
Wherever one walked, sword qi danced in the air, vibrating like the strings of unseen zithers; each note hummed with the melodies of victory and sorrow, of legend and yearning.
In the center of the great palace's courtyard grew a singular tree—ancient, majestic, and utterly unique.Its trunk glittered with a golden-jade radiance, flawless as carved jade, while its canopy of azure leaves radiated a gentle, ever-shifting light.
Each leaf pulsed in rhythm with the world's breath, drinking in spiritual energy and releasing it in shimmering motes.
This was a Fourth Rank Spiritual Plant, an object of awe among cultivators, revered even by the oldest grand elders. Its roots nested deep in the stone, binding the palace above to the cavernous power below.But the tree's true mystery lay within.
Inside its body, hidden from mortal eyes, was a Cave Heaven—an inner world of tranquil mountains and crystalline springs, bathed in immortal luminescence. Verdant peaks surrounded an impossibly clear spiritual spring, whose waters glowed with gentle radiance and seemed to sing welcome.
Along the banks, rare spirit herbs grew in abundance, their blooms weaving subtle fragrances into the air, thick and sweet enough to make even visiting immortals pause.Nestled near the spring was a modest wooden house.
Constructed of spirit wood, it was humble yet overflowing with warmth—a dwelling that held the scent of pine and the golden hush of sunlight filtering through carved lattices.
A single bamboo chair sat on the front veranda beside a low tea table, all but inviting weary souls to sit and lose themselves to the melody of wind and water. Quiet, self-effacing, and peaceful, the house was a haven untouched by the turmoil beyond.Inside, the atmosphere glowed with serene comfort.
Walls curved gently to cradle the bright morning light, while the faint song of sword qi echoed, distant and soothing. The air itself seemed to shimmer with hope, the very breath of cultivation.
Upon a simply made wooden bed lay a solitary man. He appeared youthful—barely beyond his twenties—yet the quiet power coiled within his frame suggested lifetimes of struggle and growth.
His long black hair tumbled freely across the pillow, gleaming with the sheen of polished ink; a few rebellious strands brushed his resolute jaw, accentuating the untamed charm that clung to him.
Skin as pale as refined jade, finely chiseled features carved in dignified lines, a face born for leadership and legend.Yet it was his eyes that captured the soul of the world.
Golden, radiant, and impossibly deep, they shimmered with tranquil assurance—a gaze as sharp as swords and as ancient as stars. When his eyes opened, the spiritual energies of the Cave Heaven seemed to ripple in silent harmony, as though the palace itself bowed in greeting.
This man was Xu Tianyi, Supreme Elder of the Heavenly Sword Sect. Among the cultivators of the southern wilderness, his dao name "Absolute Sword True Monarch" was uttered in reverence and awe, feared and envied by rivals, immortalized as a symbol of hope for his disciples.
Yet beneath the mask of dignity and power, Xu Tianyi bore a secret that no one else could guess.
He was a regressor—a cultivator who had lived, struggled, and died within these mountains not once, but twice.In his first life, he ended up as a outer sect elder on the after struggling for more than 250 years at the end of his life.
Though his ambitions had burned bright, disaster soon snuffed them out; reaching only the false core realm, he had fallen in a ruined trial and perished, forgotten save for a few lines in the sect's tomb scrolls.In his second turn, memories of his past life surged within him.
Driven by regret, Xu Tianyi ended anew as an inner sect elder. His knowledge brought him far this time: through cunning, hard work, and sacrifice, he soared to the core formation peak and earned respect rarely seen for his age. But at the gateway to nascent soul—a trial that few ever survived—his heart demon rebelled, shattering his spirit and his body on the very edge of ascension.
Now, in his third turn, Xu Tianyi stood at the peak.Through perseverance and wisdom, he had finally crossed the threshold, breaking through to the nascent soul realm—a feat that crowned him the supreme elder of the Heavenly Sword Sect.
In this life, his status rivaled even the most ancient ancestors. Not a single cultivator in Jiang country dared to challenge his authority; rivals bent their knees, dangerous events bowed to his foresight, and Heavenly Sword Sect towered above the realm like a newly risen sun.
Yet within the quiet isolation of the Cave Heaven, as he lay in undisturbed peace, Xu Tianyi's heart was not content.Years of struggle had taught him that the heights of cultivation, while enviable, were not eternal.
His memory spanned centuries of regret, betrayal, and fleeting victories. This time, wisdom molded ambition into strategy. In his eyes flickered golden intent—not merely the desire to ascend further, but a plan bold enough to shake fate itself.
Xu Tianyi would not squander his second life's trials or his third life's mastery. The fortuitous knowledge of future events, which once served only selfish ends, would now be leveraged anew. Long ago, he had glimpsed the rise of others—brilliant, lucky individuals known in the cultivation world as "Children of Fortune."
These were the future legends, rare prodigies whose luck and destiny warped the very flow of events.
In this third life, atop the Southern Wilderness, Xu Tianyi resolved to take these child of fortunes as Disciple and form a unstoppable force that rivaled the behemoths of the central region of southern wilderness.