2025-07-28 20:51:26Kaelen’s eyes glimmered with quiet intensity.
“Though the Divine Empire of Creation vanished three thousand years ago, my father once spoke of a hidden treasury,” he murmured to himself. “Deep within an unknown land, only he and a few trusted retainers knew the location. Inside… unimaginable wealth, ancient treasures…”
But Kaelen shook his head. That pursuit was far beyond him—for now. His strength was still too limited.
He turned to the elder before him, robes coarse, expression calm but serious. “What grade could that sword possibly be?” he wondered.
Even a Yellow-grade sword—a step above Mortal-grade—would give him a huge boost in House Hanwynn.
“Please… let it be that.”
Clang!
The sharp ring of steel echoed through the room as Kaelen drew the blade from its case. His heart sank immediately.
“What? This… broken thing?”
The sword was rusted, dull, edges chipped like it might crumble in a single strike. Kaelen’s face darkened.
“You old geezer… are you messing with me?”
The elder only smiled, calm and knowing. “Never judge a sword by its appearance. Just as the sea cannot be measured by a single bucket, this blade may hold power even I cannot see. Its exterior is tarnished… but who knows what lies within? Perhaps it’s waiting for someone like you.”
Kaelen muttered, skeptical yet intrigued. He returned the sword to its case and slung it across his back.
Without another word, the elder tossed several thin manuals onto the counter.
“Take these. Free of charge.”
Kaelen caught them mid-air, scanning the titles: Bright Moon Sword Art, Fiery Dragon Sword Technique, Nine Swords of the Lonely Peak. All Yellow-grade, elementary-level techniques.
“Many thanks, senior. I am grateful,” he said, bowing deeply. To enemies, ruthless. To friends, loyal. To benefactors, endlessly thankful—a code instilled by his father, the late Emperor Therion Viremont.
The elder waved lazily. “Go now, Kaelen. Cultivate well.”
Kaelen left—not toward home, but into the untamed wilds beyond Thornreach County. The wilderness was unforgiving: ancient forests, savage beasts, blood-soaked soil. For those seeking true strength, it was sacred ground.
In the county’s bustling heart, he purchased a swift steed. Then, wind at his back, he galloped across the open plains. Hooves thundered. White robes trailing, sword case humming silently.
Under the vast sky, fire in his heart, he thought: This life… I will rise again.
“This… this is freedom!” he roared, disappearing into the horizon. From the city gates, many watched the lone youth racing into destiny.
By sundown, he reached Ravenhollow Town, tucked beneath the towering Vyrecrest Mountains. Mercenaries, martial artists, merchants—the town buzzed with danger. Strength ruled here. Robbery, ambush, murder… common.
His destination: the central Ebonflare Tower. Warriors accepted missions here—rare herbs, beast cores, noble commissions. Perfect for training and rewards.
Two rugged mercenaries blocked his path, eyes cruel.
“Hold up, kid. Pay a toll. Three low-grade spirit stones to enter. Frostfang Mercenaries rule,” sneered one.
“There’s such a rule?” Kaelen asked calmly. Whispers rose. Another newbie getting extorted… but who dares challenge the Frostfang Mercenaries?
Kaelen’s expression didn’t change. Inwardly, he sighed. As expected. The strong trample the weak. Strength is the only truth.
Then his gaze sharpened—cold, dangerous. “Move.”
The mercenaries froze.
Before they could react, Kaelen stepped forward.
“You brat—!”
“Seize him! Break his legs and—”Boom!
Golden true energy exploded, slamming the two men across the square. They hit the ground hard, groaning.
“W-What?! He’s… he’s strong!” Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Kaelen didn’t glance at them. Quiet, composed. He walked past the fallen mercenaries and entered the tower.
Inside, he accepted three missions: retrieving rare spiritual herbs, promising a combined reward of one hundred thousand coins—immense for his stage. Without hesitation, he vanished into the dense forests of the Vyrecrest Mountains.
At the town gate, the mercenaries seethed. Hatred burned in their eyes.
“We have to get revenge,” growled one.
“But the captain won’t act. We’ll have to play dirty—frame him, force the captain’s hand,” the other said.The Vyrecrest Mountains stretched endlessly, forests thick and unyielding. From here, the Desolate Wild Forest extended—a deadly region on the Velarion Continent.
Dressed in flowing white, sword case slung across his back, Kaelen entered the primal wilderness. His goal wasn’t the missions alone—it was deeper. To temper his sword. To temper his soul.
True progress is forged in life and death.
The Divine Creation Art demanded combat. Evolution came through battle—refining the body, expanding true energy, awakening the spirit.
Kaelen’s mind drifted three thousand years back, to his father, Emperor Therion Viremont. He had fought gods, kings, monsters. Crossed stars, slew beasts of heaven and earth, carved his name into the Spirit Realm. Blood and fire shaped him—the Divine Emperor.
“Like father, like son,” Kaelen whispered. “I refuse mediocrity.”
With a metallic clang, he drew the rusted sword—the same battered blade from the elder. It felt ancient, hidden.
He exhaled and began: Bright Moon Sword Art, Fiery Dragon Sword Technique, Lone Peak Nine Swords. Three Yellow-grade techniques flooded his mind, intricate, demanding focus.
He wasn’t rushing. Then something awakened.
A wave of energy surged from the golden divine pill in his mind. Fog lifted. Clarity blazed. Comprehension soared.
“This… what is this?!”
Sword strikes flew—one, two, three. Perfect. Shadows of the blade sliced the air, radiating raw power. Kaelen’s eyes widened. Even as the son of a Divine Emperor, he had never wielded such mastery.
Weren’t they calling me talentless in this life…?
He tested it—full strike from Bright Moon Sword Art. Clang! Brilliant sword light burst forth. A glowing illusion of a bright moon shimmered above. Perfect execution.
Next: Fiery Dragon Sword Technique. ROAR! A blazing dragon silhouette surged along his blade, strike heavy as a falling mountain. Perfect.
The golden divine pill pulsed, releasing unfathomable force. Fate rewritten. Martial failure transformed into monstrous talent.
Ordinary disciples took months, even years, to master a Yellow-rank technique. Kaelen? Two tries. That’s all.
The pill revealed two powers:
At breakthroughs, it releases overwhelming spiritual energy—no fear of injury or failure.
• It transforms martial talent—from below average to heaven-defying.Armed with this knowledge, Kaelen ventured deeper into the Vyrecrest Mountains. No hesitation. No fear.
Martial power is the foundation. I must grow stronger—strong enough to challenge her.
Her. Aurelia Duskryn, Second Miss of House Hanwynn. The death of Mirelle would not remain a secret.
Sooner or later, she would come.
And when she did… Kaelen would be ready. Blade in hand, eyes unblinking, standing tall even in the storm.
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Chapter 228: The Elemental Sword
Silence fell over the battlefield.Not the peaceful kind, mind you. This was heavy, suffocating. The kind of stillness that presses on your chest, makes it hard to breathe, makes your heart pound in your ears.From the shattered ground amid the ruins, the Sect Master slowly pushed himself upright. Dust and chunks of stone slid off his robes. He stared, wide-eyed, chest rising and falling unevenly.“Unbelievable…” he whispered.He had spent his life in the Shadowfang Sect. Knew its bones, its secrets, its elders. And these elders—the Water Elder, the Fire Elder—weren’t just powerful. They were legends. Veterans who’d survived a hundred battles held the peak of the sect for nearly a century.And now? Both of them lay wounded.By a boy. Kaelen Viremont.A young man barely known outside the inner circles… until now.A chill crept up the Sect Master’s spine.Across the battlefield, the Water and Fire Elders struggled to stay upright. Blood stained their robes, ragged breaths spilling out w
Chapter 227: Terrifying Beyond Compare
The instant that sound ripped across the battlefield, everything froze.Like the world itself forgot how to breathe.A savage wave of power exploded out of Kaelen Viremont, slamming outward in all directions. The air buckled. The ground beneath him cracked with sharp, snapping sounds, fractures racing away from his feet as if the land had finally decided it couldn’t handle him anymore.Kaelen lifted his head—and roared.This wasn’t just someone shouting in anger.It was raw. Ancient. The kind of cry that felt like it came from deep inside blood and bone, something passed down through generations that should’ve stayed asleep.His black hair lashed wildly in the icy wind as golden light poured out of him. His body swelled, muscles thickening, bones reshaping, growing larger and larger until he stood there like a towering golden giant, easily over ten meters tall.He didn’t look grown.He looked forged.His skin gleamed like refined gold. His flesh pulsed with brutal vitality. Blood thun
Chapter 226: The Ultimate Battle
Just when the Shadowfang Sect seemed completely swallowed by despair—when it felt like no one could stand against Lorian Zethar—Boom.The sky tore open. Clouds churned violently, twisting and snapping as though some godly storm had been unleashed—a voice, sharp and icy, cut through the chaos.“Lorian Zethar… do you really think you can claim the heavens with a single hand?”The words pierced the tense air. Every disciple froze. Hearts skipped.“That voice…”Recognition spread like wildfire. Eyes widened.“Kaelen Viremont! He… he didn’t leave?!”The murmurs of disbelief rippled across the battlefield. But the Sect Master, battered and lying amid the ruins, went silent, dread gripping his heart. He knew something the others didn’t: Lorian Zethar’s strength was terrifying… and the power backing him? Even more so. Even Kaelen Viremont’s arrival might not be enough.Kaelen should have left.Buzz.The clouds split with a deafening roar. A black dragon, massive and terrifying, arced across
Chapter 225: Unwilling
Boom.The Sect Master stood right in the heart of the battlefield, unmoving. Just standing there, he felt… heavy. Overwhelming. The ground beneath his feet cracked a little, like it couldn’t handle the pressure pouring out of him. His cultivation wasn’t something built overnight. It had been carved out through years—no, decades—of suffering, training, and stubborn determination.Then his martial soul burst forth.Light flared around him, bright and fierce. Huge whirlpools of ocean-like energy spun into existence, circling his body. The currents twisted wildly, dragging at the air as if they were ready to swallow anything that dared come close.“Insolence!”The Water Elder and Fire Elder shouted almost at the same time. Their faces twisted with anger, and they didn’t waste even a second.The Water Elder raised both arms. Instantly, a massive tide exploded out from him, endless waves of pure energy crashing forward like a furious storm at sea. The air trembled, humming with power as the
Chapter 224: A Desperate Fight to the Death
The very heart of the Shadowfang Sect lay right before them.At its center, a massive ceremonial plaza stretched wide beneath the sky. Towering structures surrounded it, sharp silhouettes cutting into the air like blades. Rows of jade pillars stood in flawless alignment, each one etched with ancient runes that glimmered faintly. Along the edges of the plaza, colossal dragon statues loomed—each nearly a hundred meters tall—stone bodies coiled, eyes cold and lifeless, as if watching everyone who dared step inside.It was… overwhelming.What made it even more unsettling was how quickly it had all come together. Everything here had been thrown up in just a few days. And yet, nothing felt rushed. No chaos. No uneven edges.Every stone, every symbol, existed for one reason.Lorian Zethar’s succession ceremony.At the center of it all stood Lorian Zethar himself.He wore a deep crimson robe traced with golden dragon patterns, the fabric flowing like living flame. His posture was straight, hi
Chapter 223: The Sound of the Bell
The life-grafting process went far smoother than anyone had dared to hope.All the dangers Kaelen Viremont and Talan had braced themselves for simply… never showed up. No backlash. No instability. Not even the faintest hint of rejection. It was almost unsettling how clean it was.As the final wisps of vitality were drained from the frozen corpses of the ancient ferocious beasts, their enormous bodies stayed locked in place, unmoving. Silent. Like relics carved by time and forgotten by the world. One after another, their life force was taken completely.And yet, the Innate Dao Embryo didn’t shatter.If anything, it felt more whole than before.The seven-colored divine light wrapped around it grew brighter, denser, surging in overlapping waves. Each pulse carried real weight, the kind that pressed down on space itself and made the air feel heavier with every breath.After consuming the life force of dozens of ancient ferocious beasts, the Innate Dao Embryo was no longer something simple
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