The morning sun spilled gently over the jagged peaks of the Azure Spirit Mountains, scattering golden light across the misty valley. The air was heavy with spiritual energy yet calm, as if the mountains themselves were breathing.
At the valley's center, a young boy knelt on a rock, hands pressed to the earth. His name was Wuya. To any passerby, he appeared ordinary—small, fragile, almost childlike.
But the valley responded to him differently. The grass beneath his knees bent ever so slightly, the streams shimmered with faint golden sparks, and the wind seemed to linger, listening.
"Why… can't I feel it?" he muttered, his voice barely audible over the whispering winds. Hours of practice had yielded nothing. Yet something inside his chest stirred—a pulse, subtle and strange.
Then, without warning, a faint warmth spread through his dantian. Three currents of energy appeared, delicate and shimmering:
Gold: molten and radiant, like sunlight flowing through veins—the first awakening of the Primordial Bloodline Path.
Silver: translucent threads, faintly humming, weaving the air—the Dao Path, hinting at universal laws.
Blue: swirling currents forming tiny floating islands and rivers—the Inner World Path, a spark of creation within him.
The boy gasped. No cultivator in history had awakened all three paths so early, except those of the Primordial Lineage. Yet, the energy was calm, not violent—a gentle hum guiding him rather than consuming him.
"These paths are your inheritance," a voice whispered in his mind. Soft, distant, and impossible to ignore. "Observe. Understand. Grow."
Wuya's eyes widened as he felt the first tiny ripple of his inner world forming. Mountains no taller than his palm rose inside his mind, rivers curled delicately, and clouds drifted lazily over the miniature landscape. He could sense faint fragments of time, space, and life beginning to stir.
He lifted his hand, and the miniature islands floated in response. Streams of silver law threads wove through them, golden bloodline light pulsing at their heart.
"I… can shape it," he whispered, awe-struck.
From a cliff above, a cloaked figure watched silently. He said nothing, but his presence alone made the boy's heart beat faster. The air around the figure shimmered faintly, like heat waves on a distant horizon.
Wuya bowed slightly in respect, though he did not fully understand why. Deep down, he knew the figure was watching, guiding, protecting… and perhaps testing.
He returned his attention to the tiny inner world. Rivers formed loops, tiny forests sprouted, and the faint hum of life began to stir. Though fragile and unstable, it was alive, and it responded to his will, guided by the three paths.
For hours, Wuya focused, feeling the currents of energy, the pull of his bloodline, the flow of laws, and the heartbeat of his nascent inner world. The valley remained calm, the sun drifting higher, shadows stretching, yet the boy did not notice.
He was learning.
And somewhere far away, in silence, the first signs of Primordial lineage recognition stirred—an acknowledgment of a boy who had just whispered life into his first inner world.
The journey had begun. Not with fire and blood, but with quiet observation, delicate shaping, and a spark of creation.