He sat cross-legged, his breathing stilled, his mind focused inward. The sound of a shell cracking echoed in his mind, growing steadily louder. It began as a faint whine, like a distant mosquito, then swelled to the insistent patter of raindrops, and finally boomed with the thunder of war drums. At last, a cataclysmic roar, a sound that could shatter mountains and split the very earth, erupted beside his ear. The world plunged into darkness. Within that void, he saw a tender green shoot breaking through the soil. Its emergence seemed to provoke some supreme, unseen existence. Devastating bolts of lightning rained down from the darkness, trying to crush the seedling back into the earth. The tender shoot unfurled its first leaves and, with an air of effortlessness, absorbed the thunderbolts. It began to grow, its expansion so rapid it was a blur to the naked eye. An inch, two inches, three inches… A yard, two yards, three yards… Ten yards, a hundred yards, a thousand yards… Chen Feng watched in stunned silence as a single seed, feeding on lightning as if it were mere nourishment, grew into a colossal, impossibly tall tree. The thunder, realizing its efforts were futile, gradually subsided. Just as Chen Feng thought the vision was over, a majestic and terrible roar echoed through the void. “How dare you take the Divine Tree of the Void Ancient Clan? No matter who you are, no matter where you hide, we will find you! We will find you!” The voice slammed into him, a physical force that made his head feel as if it would split apart. His very soul threatened to shatter under the weight of its unparalleled divine power. In that moment of crisis, the Void Ancient Tree shimmered, casting off motes of green light that flowed into Chen Feng’s body. The tearing sensation gradually faded. Under the influence of that gentle light, a spirit root began to form within his dantian. Chen Feng’s face was pale, his body slick with a cold sweat. He had narrowly survived. A single roar, crossing an unimaginable expanse of time and space, had almost destroyed him. And why did they call it the Void Ancient Clan’s tree? Wasn’t it a gift from his father? It took him a long time to quiet the frantic beating of his heart. When he did, his gaze subconsciously fell to his abdomen, and a tremor ran through his voice. “A Spiritual Celestial! I have a Spiritual Celestial now!” he exclaimed, his voice thick with a joy so profound it was painful. Eighteen years. He had waited eighteen years for this moment. His elation gave way to a wave of sorrow, and he dropped to his knees. “Dad, did you see?” “Your son has a Spiritual Celestial. I can protect myself now.” “You can finally rest in peace.” He bowed his head to the floor, his eyes burning with unshed tears. Before his father died, his greatest worry had been Chen Feng’s future—his weakness, his inability to defend himself in a world that preyed on the weak. Now, he had a Spiritual Celestial. His father, who had sheltered him his entire life, could finally be at ease. After another long moment, Chen Feng composed himself and turned his focus inward, examining the Spiritual Celestial. A jolt of confusion went through him. His Spiritual Celestial was completely transparent. It had no color at all. “Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet, black, white… but never transparent!” Lin Mengyao’s Spiritual Celestial was azure, a sixth-grade root. The legendary highest grade was white, the ninth grade. A transparent Spiritual Celestial was unheard of. “I’ll have to go to the Hall of Scrutiny to be sure,” Chen Feng muttered to himself. On this continent, there was an ancient power known as the Celestial Mechanism Hall. The famous Azure Misty Sect was but one of its nine subordinate sects. They had established a Spirit Appraisal Pagoda in every major city, offering free Spiritual Celestial detection to all. If an exceptional Spiritual Celestial was discovered, the Spirit Appraisal Pagoda Master could recommend the individual to a local sect. Lin Mengyao, for instance, had been found to possess a sixth-grade Spiritual Celestial, a discovery that had prompted an elder from the Azure Misty Sect to make an exception and accept her as a Legacy Disciple. It was rumored that a talent of unparalleled genius might even attract an envoy from the Celestial Mechanism Hall itself. But that was only a rumor; since the Spirit Appraisal Pagoda in Willow Creek City had been established, no one had ever been recruited directly. To even be considered, one had to cultivate for three years in one of the nine major sects, and only the most outstanding among them had a chance. He wondered what grade his transparent Spiritual Celestial would be. His thoughts were interrupted as his awareness shifted back to the vision. Chen Feng noticed that the lush branches of the Void Divine Tree were now heavy with huge, transparent fruits. Sealed within the lowest-hanging fruit, he could perceive a cultivation technique. “Profound Level High-grade Mental Method, ‘Dragon Seeking Formula.’” Reading the inscription floating in his mind, Chen Feng’s breath caught in his throat. The Lin Family was an old power in Willow Creek City, yet their prized treasure, a Yellow Level Medium-grade Swordsmanship, was still considered one of the city's top ten techniques. The family had faced several crises over the years from outsiders coveting it. A single Profound Level High-grade technique was enough to throw the entire region into chaos. He held his breath and scrambled toward the tree, leaping into the air to snatch the fruit. An invisible barrier repelled him, pushing him back to the ground. A sliver of information bloomed in his mind. “Only those in the Foundation Establishment Stage can pick the lowest fruit.” The dark world around him began to dissolve, the colossal tree fading away until he found himself back in his simple, spartan room. He was momentarily stunned; the entire experience felt like a vivid dream. But the new, tangible presence of the Spiritual Celestial in his abdomen confirmed it was all real. “‘Dragon Seeking Formula.’ Foundation Establishment Stage.” Chen Feng licked his lips, a thrill of anticipation shooting through him. He felt an overwhelming urge to break through to that realm immediately. Not wanting to waste a moment, he left the Lin Manor, his walk quickening to a half-run. He arrived at the Spirit Appraisal Pagoda breathless and panting. It was still early, and the tower doors remained closed. A small crowd of boys and girls, all around his age, waited outside. “Wei, don’t be nervous about the retest today. The Tower Master said you just underperformed last time because of nerves.” Zhao Lirong stood beside Lu Wei, offering quiet encouragement. “You should have tested at the third-grade top level, but your anxiety only showed you as a third-grade medium!” “Because of that one grade, I couldn’t secure more resources for you from the Lin Family.” Lu Wei nodded, his expression grim. The Lin Family’s resources were finite. The lion’s share went to Lin Mengyao, while the rest was allocated based on talent. Many in the family possessed third-grade Spirit Roots; being a sub-grade lower meant a significant reduction in support. This retest was his chance to prove his true worth. “If you can test at the third-grade top level,” Zhao Lirong continued in a low voice, “I’ll find a way to convince the family to make an exception and let you cultivate the Lin’s Sword Technique.” For the sake of his nephew, Zhao Lirong was willing to risk everything, even passing on the Lin Family’s core secrets to an outsider. Lu Wei’s eyes lit up with ecstasy. The Lin’s Sword Technique. A Yellow Level Medium-grade attack skill, one of the most coveted techniques in Willow Creek City, reserved only for core members of the Lin Family. After enduring ten years of hardship in the Lin Family, he might finally have a chance to learn it. His excitement was so great that he almost missed the familiar figure approaching. He caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and did a double-take. “Chen Feng? What are you doing here?” Chen Feng calmly took out a small slate and chalk, writing a note: “Same as you.” Until his strength reached a certain point, he would continue his charade as a mute to avoid suspicion from the Lin Manor. “Same as me? Haha.” Lu Wei shook his head, his expression a mixture of pity and contempt. He was here for a retest to prove his higher potential. Chen Feng had been tested numerous times and found wanting. What was the point of trying again? He clapped Chen Feng on the shoulder in a gesture of false camaraderie. “Spirit Roots are innate. You either have one, or you don’t,” he said, his tone mocking. “What’s so wrong with living an ordinary life? Why keep chasing something you can never have?” Chen Feng’s hands, hidden in his sleeves, clenched into fists. Why was it his destiny to be ordinary, while others were born to be high and mighty Martial Artists? Just then, the heavy doors of the tower groaned open. The Spirit Appraisal Pagoda Master, an old man whose face was a mask of weary indifference from decades of performing the same task, spoke in a monotone voice. “As always, those with outstanding qualifications will receive a cultivation technique as a reward.” The crowd’s reaction was muted. They all knew the rewards were practically unattainable. In the past several decades, only one person had earned one: Lin Mengyao. Her sixth-grade Spiritual Celestial had netted her a Yellow Level Low-grade Mental Method. With it, she had reached the Eighth Layer of Qi Cultivation in just six months. If a sixth-grade Spiritual Celestial only earned the lowest-tier reward, the rest of them had no reason to hope. But Chen Feng’s eyes lit up. “There are techniques up for grabs?”

Chapter 3: A Seed of Power