The morning sun of the Great Wilderness rose slowly, like a sovereign asserting its presence.
Its light spilled across Stone Village, washing over stone huts, bone fences, and the ancient earth beneath. Shadows stretched long and sharp, cast by mountains that seemed close enough to touch the sky itself. The air was crisp, heavy with primordial vitality, every breath faintly metallic and wild.
Life had already begun.
In the village training ground, children shouted as they lifted stone weights nearly half their size. Their small bodies trembled, teeth clenched, veins standing out against bronze skin.
"Hah—!"
"Hng—!"
They weren't playing. This was survival training, drilled into them before they learned fear. In the Great Wilderness, weakness wasn't corrected—it was erased.
Even so, one figure stood entirely apart from the chaos.
He was small. Too small.
Barely three or four years old, with porcelain skin untouched by scars, large bright eyes full of curiosity rather than caution. He sat on a stone, legs swinging idly, holding a clay jar with both hands.
Inside the jar—beast milk.
Shi Hao.
The Little Stone.
Future ruler of the ages.
Current professional milk addict.
He drank noisily, white foam clinging to his lips as he watched the older children struggle with a calm, almost amused gaze.
Then—
A shadow fell over him.
Shi Hao blinked, looked up—and froze.
Standing there was the strange "Mysterious Uncle" who had descended from the sky the day before.
Su Chen.
He wasn't wearing his usual coat. His upper body was bare, loose training pants hanging low on his hips. At first glance, he looked… normal.
But when he stretched, muscle and bone shifted beneath his skin with quiet, terrifying cohesion. No bulk. No exaggeration. Just density—like a mountain pretending to be flesh.
"Little guy," Su Chen said casually, crouching to eye level. "That milk any good?"
Shi Hao instantly hugged the jar like his life depended on it.
"It's mine!" he declared. "Chief Grandpa gave it to me!"
Su Chen laughed, the sound warm and unforced. "Relax. I'm not here to steal it."
He reached out.
Shi Hao flinched—
Then Su Chen pulled out another jug from thin air.
The milk inside glowed faintly blue, cold mist curling along the rim. The energy leaking from it made Shi Hao's pores prickle instinctively.
"Try this one," Su Chen said.
Shi Hao sniffed.
His eyes widened.
He took a sip.
Then another.
"Gulp."
His entire face lit up.
"Yummy!" he declared, milk mustache forming instantly. "Uncle, you're a good person!"
Su Chen chuckled and gently patted the child's head.
"Drink up. You're going to need strong bones."
He glanced toward the distant sky.
"Someday, you'll carry it."
The Million Jin Lift
Su Chen walked toward the center of the training ground.
The villagers followed him with their eyes. They knew he was powerful—anyone who could approach the Willow Deity and live wasn't ordinary—but power in this world meant proof.
At the center sat a massive black cauldron.
The Thousand-Jin Cauldron.
Even under the Great Wilderness' crushing gravity, it took three adult warriors to budge it.
"Uncle Su," a youth called Shi Dazhuang said hesitantly. "Are you… going to lift that?"
Su Chen stopped in front of the cauldron, studied it briefly.
"…Light," he muttered.
He slid a single finger under the rim.
The air changed.
His blood surged, runes igniting deep within his body. His posture remained relaxed, but the earth beneath him groaned.
"Up."
He flicked his finger.
CLANG—
The cauldron flew into the air like a toy, spinning violently before crashing back down.
Su Chen caught it.
On one finger.
The ground beneath him fractured outward in a spiderweb, but his arm didn't move an inch.
Silence.
Absolute, horrified silence.
"He—he caught it…?"
"With one finger?"
Su Chen frowned slightly, then set the cauldron down.
"Still light."
He looked toward the sky.
"Babata. Training block."
A black cube fell from the clouds.
It hit the village square like a meteor.
BOOM.
Huts rattled. Children screamed.
Su Chen stepped forward, gripped the block.
His muscles swelled—not grotesquely, but decisively. Silver-gold runes rippled across his skin.
"Lift."
The block rose.
One hundred tons.
Under five hundred times gravity.
The pressure roared through his body, refining blood, bone, and marrow in real time.
CRACK.
His bones reorganized.
SNAP.
Blood burned purple-gold.
He exhaled sharply, eyes blazing.
"This," he said through clenched teeth, "is Moving Blood."
The block slammed back into the earth.
The villagers stared.
Not at a man.
At a beast wearing human skin.
Shi Hao ran forward, eyes shining.
"Uncle! Teach me!"
Su Chen smiled.
"I will. But first—we eat."
The Dying King
The mountain range was silent.
Too silent.
The Suan Ni lay within a shattered cavern, golden blood pooling beneath its massive body. Lightning still crackled faintly along its scales, but its breath was shallow, ragged.
Su Chen approached alone.
The beast's eyes opened.
Human…
Su Chen met its gaze calmly.
"You fought well."
He placed a hand on its forehead.
Power surged.
The Suan Ni screamed, unleashing its final strike—golden lightning at point-blank range.
Su Chen inhaled.
And swallowed it.
The lightning vanished into him, refining his body further.
"…Thank you," Su Chen said softly.
The Suan Ni died.
The Clans' Last Mistake
Silk-clad figures emerged from the forest.
Arrogant. Armed. Smiling.
"The carcass belongs to us."
Su Chen sighed.
"Esdeath."
Ice froze lightning itself.
"Saeko."
One draw. One cut.
Silence followed.
Aftermath
That night, the village feasted.
Children bathed in Suan Ni blood.
Shi Hao slept with a full stomach and dreams too big for his body.
And Su Chen sat alone, staring inward.
"Ten Cave Heavens?" he murmured.
A smile curved his lips.
"No."
"I'll open the sky itself."