Chapter 3: Ripples Through the Spirit Veins
The tranquility of Qingyuan Village was a lie—one carefully stitched together with routine and forgetfulness.
Luo Qingshen walked its stone-paved paths in silence, his expression unreadable, his presence so subtle most forgot he was ever there. Children played near the shrine steps. Farmers waved politely. No one suspected that the man who helped haul water and mend fences had once torn through the heavens.
But deep beneath the village, where the spirit veins intersected, something had shifted.
The encounter in the forest had left behind a trace. A crack. A ripple. And in a world built on qi and balance, even ripples could become tidal waves.
That night, the village's cultivators gathered near the old sect ruins—what remained of an ancestral order lost to war and time. They whispered about rising qi pressure, about beasts fleeing the woods, about a pulse that shook their dantians.
They didn't know what caused it.
But Luo Qingshen did.
Back in his secluded cottage, he opened a lacquered box sealed with eight talismans.
Inside was a blade wrapped in old cloth.
He didn't touch it—only looked.
Even now, after centuries sealed in mortal quiet, Heavenrender still pulsed faintly in resonance with him. The weapon had once cleaved divine beasts in two. Now, it lay dormant, like its master.
But today, for the first time in years…
It stirred.
"You're waking up too," he murmured.
"A storm's coming."
Suddenly—
A loud knock.
He closed the box. Instantly, the pressure vanished.
He opened the door to find a young girl panting, her face pale. A disciple from the village's martial house.
"Mister Luo!" she gasped. "A spirit beast—it's entered the village outskirts!"
He blinked. "What kind?"
She swallowed. "We… don't know. But Master Lin said it's above Core Formation. Maybe Nascent Soul."
That shouldn't have been possible.
And yet…
He nodded. "Lead me there."
As they ran, the girl risked a glance at him.
"There's… something strange about you," she whispered. "You feel like… like an empty void."
He smiled faintly. "Then I've succeeded."
At the forest's edge, the beast stood surrounded by the village's cultivators. Massive, scaled, and radiating dark qi. Their attacks barely left a scratch.
They turned as Luo Qingshen arrived—no one expected much from the quiet hermit.
But then he stepped forward.
And as the beast roared, he simply raised one hand.
Golden script shimmered in the air.
One word.
A forgotten command.
Ancient and divine.
"Kneel."
The beast collapsed, quaking, its monstrous body groveling in submission before him.
Gasps. Stares.
No one spoke.
But in that moment, Qingyuan Village realized:
Luo Qingshen… was not who they thought he was.