"Stop right there!" A bellow of rage followed by heavy and varied footsteps resounded. A pair of armored men were running with their blades out, their body emanating vicious killing intent. If looks could kill, their gazes would be able to send the heaven's into death.
They dashed through a clustered alley, tumbling and pushing away obstacles with their powerful legs and arms, grunting here and there.
"I said stop, fiend!" The same voice resounded, originating from the taller man. Yet, his demand was only answered with a laugh.
"Hahaha! Old Man Bo, why must you be so persistent?" Said a young man dressed used clothes that had all sorts of patchwork done. His slim body and legs were swift, vaulting and flipping through the obstacles as if they were personally placed there by him. His agile movements were far too fast for the guards outfitted in armor.
He performed a front flip, his body displaying extreme balance. He landed on a piece of wood, his head turned back with a smile revealing his handsome face, bright eyes, and unbelievably white smile.
"When I get you! I'll!" He jumped at the boy, immediately closing the gap abruptly, his eyes filled with satisfaction. He had practiced a movement art for this exact moment, capable of giving him an abrupt and sudden burst. With this trump card, this demonic child will finally…
Bang!
His heavy legs stepped on a piece of wood, pushing it down, the other end sprung up suddenly, and then launched the boy into the air.
"Thanks for the lift!" With a sly smile, the young boy performed a somersault and grabbed a pole sticking from the wall. With a twist of his body and a spin, he shot higher until he grabbed the roof's edge. Pulling himself up, he disappeared from the armored guard's sight in a blink.
Old Man Bo's eyes widened in disbelief as he followed the elegant arc and excellent execution of athletics. The rage he felt in his heart was drowned in disbelief and a hint of praise.
The other armored guard stopped with heavy breathing, the sweat on his brows was dripping like rain. He looked upwards and cursed. This brought Old Man Bo's mind back to the present, his expression turned uglier than a pig crying. It was horrendous.
"Ahhh! I'll capture you one day, and when I do, it'll be your worst day!" He shouted to the skies.
From atop the roof, a voice replied with a hint of excitement, "I'll be waiting and keeping my neck clean for you!"
This only infuriated the guards further as they once more gathered their strength and went to pursue. While they knew he'll have left the roof to locations unknown, they had to try.
The young man went through various routes until he completely left his pursuers into the abyss of loss. He arrived at an abandoned warehouse and said, "I'm home!" He smiled brilliantly and stood at the entrance waiting for a reply, yet no voice was heard. After several seconds, he went in.
The warehouse was dirty and cluttered, filled with broken or spiderwebs. He went through this area until he went to a certain area. A broken door was laid horizontally with its back to the wall. He grabbed the edges and pulled, revealing a hole. Entering, he was welcomed by another sight.
A room about ten feet by ten feet, a perfect square space. There were several books and a white candle that was half used. A rectangular chest about three feet wide and a wooden chair.
"Home, sweet home." His voice was low, a little despondent, yet still filled with that youthful vigor. Walking to the chest, he opened it. Inside the chest were silver coins with a few gold coins within it, enough to fill it halfway. He removed a drawstring leather pouch from his chest. With practiced motion, he opened and dumped out several silver coins.
"Today was a good day," the young boy smiled. With a sigh, he grabbed a book and sat in the chair. He started to read, sounding out the words.
"Tda booy wyent to tda marqet…" it was a simple story about a boy living in a world and overcoming struggles of his life. At the end, he overcomes all challenges and ends up with a beauty and status worthy of respect. He came from nothing and rose to his position on cunning and intelligence. With his wit and character, he obtained respect and love. He was a protagonist worth rooting for, worth idolizing.
After an hour of self-taught reading, he placed the book down and took a deep breath to expel his mental exhaustion. "A step at a time. A step at a time. Always forward, never stopping." The young boy said these words as a mantra. They were thoroughly etched into his heart, unable to be forgotten at death.
He was sixteen years old this year. Since he could remember, he's been alone. He had no one and very little help. He survived thanks to an orphanage who found him on the street, naked and forgotten. This was until he became three. The orphanage was not a good place. They sold children to perverted patrons for money.
He escaped at that age when he became aware, aware that he was in danger of being next. Since then, he survived on his own guile and guts. Each meal was a struggle and each cold winter was deadly, but he persevered and persisted through it all.
He didn't have a name. He didn't have a family. With only himself, he fought for every scrap. He stole. He hid. He starved. But, he never surrendered.
Fate was cruel.
He calmly closed his eyes. "All I have is this," the young boy touched his chest. A necklace dangled a ring from his neck. It was black and unnoticeable, but he had always felt connected to it. As long as he remembered, this ring had never left him through it all. It was the only clue to his origins.
The coins in that chest was a chance. A chance he struggled for to cultivate and become someone with strength and ability to find out his origins, to ask the question to his parents: "Why did you abandon me?"
Was it for his own good? Was it because they were poor? Was it because they were dead? He needed to know.
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Clenching his hand around the ring, he felt his heart descend into disarray. Would he ever find out?
He opened his eyes. A pair of bright, amber-gold eyes reflected the world's image.
"Soon, I'll have enough to buy a True Awakening Pill, opening my meridians, qi pathways, and innate physique. When I do, I'll be a cultivator, one at the Qi Foundation Realm! It'll be my first step into becoming more and finding my origins!" He exclaimed passionately.
He turned his eyes to the wall, hearing the pitter and patter of water outside. It had started raining. "Today's my sixteenth birthday, right?" Having no home, he didn't have an exact day to know when he was born, but he knew the day he was found. It's sixteen years since, exactly.
SHUMZZZ!
"Ah?!" He jumped at the abrupt sound. It emanated from his chest. Looking down with shock and a hint of fear, he saw his chest emitting amber-gold lights endlessly. It was as if a miniaturized sun was trapped within his body, threatening to drown him in its brightness. He could clearly observe the insides of his body, even the flow of his blood and bones.
"This...what?!" He was startled. What was happening? Also, why wasn't he freaking out? The more he witnessed this ongoing event, his heart grew calmer and calmer. Before long, all shock and fear was abolished. The amber-gold light continued to brighten.
A wave of warmth felt as if it entered his soul, then memories entered his mind that was both foreign yet familiar.
"I," he said.
"Me," another voice, different, older, and more experienced said.
"Me," he said.
"I," the voice said again. It was similar to the young boy except its aged tone, but the cadence was the same.
"I am me," he said. Then, his body exploded into brilliantly gorgeous amber-gold light that penetrated walls, the rain, the clouds, and shot up in a cylindrical shape until it penetrated the very sky itself. It was far too bright to conceal.
"Before, at this age, on this day, I was born anew. Today, I, once more, am born anew!!" The two voices simultaneously spoke, their cadence, tone, and forcefulness were perfectly in sync.
The voice echoed through the hearts of the millions of citizens in the hundreds of thousands miles range. They all looked up into the sky and saw the piercing light within the sky. Many were enlightened, others cowed. The light effused an imperialistic aura intermixed with warmth, unyielding will, and relentlessness. A unique Dao seemed to overtake the heavens for a moment.
The young boy's light started to recede, the phenomena receded back into his body, and his amber-gold eyes flashed with soul-shaking light. His eyes no longer had that youthful vigor, but aged wisdom and experience. This was the eyes of someone who'd been beyond the world and killed gods.
"Yan...Zaizen!" He uttered. The surrounding Heavenly Laws quaked, shaken and stirred by his vocals. The volume of those words were low, but they contained a faint trace of the Heavenly Law.
"I...so this is what happened," the youth spoke with a smile. He was not an orphan. He was not alone. He had parents who loved him greater than life itself and he loved them the same way. He had a love so great that she was willing to brave Hell for him. His cultivation base reached an unfathomable level, capable of annihilating gods and shattering laws.
"My main body is trapped in the Deep Mines. I need to get there. Unfortunately," he inspected his body. While his soul cultivation was at the Paragon Soul Realm, capable of rending the heavens, he had absolutely no energy to use. As for this body, it had no cultivation to speak of.
He was in Meteorite City, the location he was originally born in. This was a mere coincidence, but he was somewhat happy that the city still stood after thousands of years had passed.
"In the Deep Mines, there is a strange force within. My soul and heavenly energy seem to be bogged down, restricted and suppressed, thoroughly trapping myself. The only way to act was to use my physical body to escape. Unfortunately, the force there was too powerful, only allowing me to send this portion of my soul away. I need to use the Immortal Herculean Method." He calmly assessed.
The unknown force within the Deep Mines was like entering an endless abyss, and only strength was sufficient to pull away, climb out and escape. He had no idea the Deep Mines, an area he had once wished to explore, was so mysterious and powerful.
Despite his heaven-rivaling power, he was still rendered useless. It was interesting.
"I only have a few decades, so I'll need to act fast," Yan Zaizen muttered. Indeed, he was still on a clock. He had to enter Hell to rescue Pinaka before the barrier Eloah had bestowed him ran out of time. If he wasted too much time, he would regret it.
"I can't cultivate the Heavenly Path. This body doesn't have a True Origin, so it'll be impossible to transcend the Qi Unification Realm. I can only cultivate my body and slowly restore my soul strength." He once more clarified his position and sighed. The Immortal Herculean Method was the only way to survive.
Luckily, he had a Regalia of the Heavens. It was inside the ring he left to this soul of his - the Regalia of Mimicry that belonged to the Yan Ancestor. He didn't know what changes that'll have to the Immortal Herculean Physique, but it was his only course of action.
He'll have to start anew.