Feng Chan had pitched his tent near the outer gate of Heaven's Landing, the entrance to the vast mainland where cultivation giants walked and empires clashed. Every direction he turned, he saw promising talents—beast-riding geniuses, noble disciples of high clans, and arrogant prodigies from the Nine Great Sects. Compared to them, he was just a loner, unknown and ignored.
And yet, unlike them, he had something none of them had—a reason to rise that burned deeper than pride.
---
The Boy Who Waited
"Why aren't you registering for the Nine Sects Competition?" asked a teenage cultivator from a small sect, curious about the quiet youth who stood alone.
Feng Chan smiled faintly.
"I'm not here to follow them. I'm here to surpass them."
The others nearby laughed, thinking him just another arrogant fool. But Feng Chan didn't respond. Deep inside, a voice echoed—an ancient, calming voice that had whispered to him in his dreams over the past year.
> "When the world looks down on you, remember—the sky still waits for your ascent."
That voice had kept him going through hunger, wounds, cold nights, and endless failures.
He hadn't heard it for weeks now. But tonight, he felt its call again.
---
A Whisper from the Void
As the camp quieted under a starless night, Feng Chan left and walked deep into the surrounding woods, toward a secluded lake surrounded by silent trees.
He knelt beside the lake and closed his eyes, letting his breath slow, letting the world fade.
Suddenly, a chill passed through the air.
The lake rippled… not from wind, but from something else—an ancient presence.
A man emerged from the mist, his face hidden behind a silver-white mask, his long robe fluttering as if he walked between time itself.
"You've grown," the man said.
Feng Chan's eyes snapped open. "You… who are you?"
"I am your master. The one who guided your spirit during your trial in the inheritance realm. The voice that kept your soul from collapsing in the void."
Feng Chan stood, shocked. "But… why now? Why didn't you appear before?"
"Because destiny does not waste itself on the unproven. Now that you have crawled through despair, it is time to teach you to rise."
---
Training Beneath the Stars
For the next three nights, Feng Chan returned to the lake. The masked man trained him in silence. His techniques were flawless, refined beyond imagination. His movements disrupted the wind itself.
He taught Feng Chan body strengthening, dimensional footwork, and finally, a terrifying technique:
> Void Severing Palm – a palm strike that shattered spiritual energy and crippled one's core for hours.
"This technique," the master said, "is not for tournaments. It's for survival."
Feng Chan trained like a man possessed. No food, no sleep, no complaints. His body ached, his bones groaned—but every inch of him surged with power.
---
The Hidden Identity
While Feng Chan trained in the shadows, a storm gathered in the mainland's center.
The Nine Sects Tournament was about to begin. The entire continent was watching, waiting to see who would emerge victorious.
And at the heart of it, behind veils and legends, one man stood above all:
> Lord Xing Tian – Grandmaster of the Heavenfire Immortal Sect.
He was a myth—never seen, never heard. It was said he appeared only once every hundred years, and only when a worthy successor caught his eye.
No one knew that Lord Xing Tian was the very same man training Feng Chan beneath the moon.
---
A Master's Final Words
On the fourth night, the masked man brought Feng Chan a scroll sealed in violet jade.
"This is a path to the Celestial Gate," he said. "It's a realm that exists beyond sects and empires. Only those chosen by fate can see it."
"Why me?" Feng Chan asked.
"Because you were not born to bow to fate. You were born to rewrite it."
For a brief second, the wind lifted the master's mask slightly.
Feng Chan caught a glimpse—just a flash of violet flame in the man's eyes.
But he said nothing.
The master stepped back into the mist. "Do not look for me again. When the time is right, I will return. Until then… earn your place."
---
A New Aura
Feng Chan returned to camp with silent confidence. His steps were lighter. His gaze was deeper.
People still mocked him.
"Still not in the competition?"
"Maybe he's scared."
But when a Spirit Realm beast broke through the forest barrier and charged the camp, Feng Chan stood before it alone.
With a single palm, he brought it crashing to the ground—crippled and defeated.
No one laughed after that.
---
Eyes in the Shadows
Among the crowd stood a mysterious girl dressed in black robes with a crimson phoenix insignia. Her face was cold, beautiful, and unreadable—known only by her title:
> "The Dark Moon Princess."
She had watched Feng Chan from afar since the inheritance realm. Tonight, her lips curved into a rare smile.
"He's not trying to climb their ladder," she whispered to herself.
"He's building his own sky."