The air changed. The heavy, incense-choked atmosphere of the hall was gone, replaced by a wind that bit like a thousand tiny needles. I couldn't see, but I could feel the swaying motion of being carried. Each step my captor took vibrated through my small, fragile frame.
Then, the movement stopped.
The sound of the world here was different. It wasn't the quiet of a room; it was a loud, predatory silence. The rustle of leaves sounded like whispering voices, and far off, something let out a cry that sounded half-human and half-beast.
"This is far enough," the Elder's raspy voice cut through the wind.
I felt myself being lowered. There was no cradle here. No soft blankets. Just the damp, unforgiving press of moss and jagged roots. The ground was cold, seeping through my thin wraps and pulling the warmth right out of my chest.
"May the ancestors forgive us," a younger voice whispered, though he didn't sound sorry. He sounded terrified. "To leave a soul here... it's a death slower than the blade."
"It is not a soul," the Elder snapped. "It is a vessel for ruin. Do not look back, disciple. If you look into its eyes, the Calamity will take root in your own heart. Leave it to the forest. The Qi here is wild; it will shred his meridians before the sun reaches its peak."
I heard their footsteps retreating—heavy boots crunching on dried sticks and dead leaves. The sound grew fainter and fainter until the only thing left was the thumping of my own frantic heart.
I was alone.
The cold was a physical weight now, pressing down on my lungs. I tried to gasp, but my throat felt like it was filled with sand. My mind, still fuzzy with the memories of a graduation party and a girl who had been kind to me, struggled to make sense of the moss and the shadows.
Wake up, I told myself. This has to be a dream. The bullet... the hospital... this isn't real.
My eyebrows twitched. The heaviness that had kept me under began to lift, replaced by a sharp, stinging hunger and the bite of the frost.
Slowly, painfully, I forced my eyes open.
The world was a blur of deep greens and dark shadows. Giant trees, their bark twisting like frozen muscles, stretched so high they seemed to pierce the pulsing, glowing clouds. This wasn't a park. This wasn't earth. The very air seemed to shimmer with a strange, golden dust that made my skin itch.
I tried to move my hand, but it was a tiny, pale thing an infant's hand.
That was when the silence broke.
Something moved in the thicket nearby. A low, guttural growl vibrated through the soil, making the moss beneath me tremble. Two glowing, amber eyes snapped open in the darkness of the bushes, staring straight at the "fiend" the humans had left behind.
My breath hitched. I was a baby. I couldn't run. I couldn't fight.
And then, right in front of my blurry vision, the air itself seemed to crack. A flicker of blue light, sharper and brighter than anything in this forest, sparked into existence.
The amber eyes in the brush drew closer, the sound of heavy paws crushing dried leaves echoing like a heartbeat. My tiny chest heaved, the mountain air burning my lungs. I was a helpless infant, a "fiend" to my own kind and a snack for the forest.
Then, the air in front of my face didn't just flicker; it shattered.
A screen of deep, pulsating gold materialized, cutting through the shadows of the Green Sea. Unlike the cold, pale blue light the priests had spoken of back in the hall the light every child in this world was born with this was something different. Something heavier.
[Sovereign System Initialized.]
[Scanning Vessel...]
[Status: Soul Reincarnated (Origin: Earth)]
[Inherent Rank: The Unwritten Sovereign]
My blurry eyes tried to focus on the text. In this world, the "Universal Medium" was the law. Every child awakened their system while still in the womb, their fate and prowess mapped out before their first breath. But I had been born empty. To the elders of the clan, a child without a system was a hole in reality a variable that couldn't be controlled.
And in a world built on rigid cultivation ranks, anything that cannot be measured is feared. They didn't see a baby; they saw a void that would swallow their destiny.
The screen shifted, the text turning a blood-red color as it sensed my history.
[Why the heavens fear you:]
* The Silent Awakening: You did not awaken the Universal Medium. To the seers, this "Silence" is the sign of a Calamity Mark—a soul that rejects the laws of this world.
* The Anomaly: As a reincarnated soul, your "Details" are hidden from the world's mirror. You are a ghost in their records.
* The Sovereign Path: You have been granted the only system that dictates its own laws.
The growl from the bushes turned into a snarl. A massive, wolf-like creature with fur that looked like jagged stone stepped into the light. Its saliva dripped onto the moss, sizzling slightly. It didn't care about my "Calamity Mark." It only cared about my soft, mortal flesh.
The golden screen pulsed with a sudden, violent heat.
[First Sovereign Mandate: The Cry of the Sovereign]
* Objective: Release your internal Qi to startle the Spirit Beast.
* Reward: 100 Bronze & Manual: "The Sovereign's First Breath" (Initial Stage).
I didn't know how to "release Qi." I was a baby who could barely hold up his own head. But as the beast lunged, its maw opening wide to reveal rows of black teeth, a surge of raw, cold energy erupted from the center of my chest. It wasn't the gentle flow of a student; it was a desperate, screaming wave of power.
The golden light flared, blindingly bright, and a shockwave slammed into the wolf, sending it tumbling backward into the thorns.
My tiny body felt like it was on fire. The effort was too much. My vision began to swim again, the golden screen blurring into a hazy mist.
"A baby... out here?"
A new voice. This one wasn't raspy or fearful. It was calm, like a deep well. I felt a pair of strong, calloused hands scoop me up from the freezing moss, shielding me from the wind.
"No system? No, that's not right..." the voice whispered, sounding more curious than afraid. "You're a strange little thing, aren't you?"