Sirius scrolled through the memories of the body he now inhabited, gradually piecing together the reality of his situation. He discovered that the Arya Clan had been founded nine thousand years ago by a powerful warrior named Solaris Arya.
The name struck a deeper chord than expected.
He paused.
The name wasn't just familiar—it was meaningful. A set of genuine memories, long buried, resurfaced. Solaris Arya… was his son.
In his previous life, Sirius had forbidden Solaris from using the Arya name until he had trained, cultivated, and reached a certain level of strength. It was a trial meant to push him toward independence and resilience. Only when he had proven himself worthy was he allowed to reclaim the surname.
And based on the historical records passed down in the clan, Sirius could tell Solaris had indeed reached that standard. He had returned, taken back the Arya name, and formed a new family line. But by that time, Sirius himself had already died—defending Earth from the Thousand Corpse Sect's invasion.
Sirius took a deep breath and clenched his fists slightly.
These people were not just strangers. This clan was his blood.
"I will help this clan rise," he muttered. "Not just back to what it was—but beyond."
He turned his attention to his current state. With a calm breath, he activated his spiritual sense and performed a body scan. The feedback was clear and precise.
The injuries he had sustained were significant on the surface—cuts, bruises, broken ribs—but nothing life-threatening. Internal systems were largely intact. He had expected far worse.
What surprised him was what he found beneath those wounds.
His current body possessed two significant physiques: the Light and Darkness Wheel of Balancing Dao and the Star Origin Bloodline.
The Light and Darkness Wheel gave him an affinity over both opposing elements—Light and Darkness—normally incompatible, but balanced harmoniously within him.
The Star Origin Bloodline, his original lineage from his previous life, had evidently been passed down over generations. It granted him command over three categories of elements.
Earth Elements: Land, Sea, Sky.Heaven Elements: Fire, Ice, Lightning.Primordial Origin: Light, Darkness, Space, and Time.
Sirius's expression remained calm, but inside, he acknowledged the potential. This body might actually be stronger than his previous one.
In his former life, he had learned a wide range of mystical arts and disciplines—necromancy, beast taming, spirit magic, puppet arts, alchemy, weapon crafting. But due to time constraints and constant battle, he had never had the luxury to master them.
This time, he would.
He closed his eyes and began to cultivate.
His breathing slowed and became rhythmic. Mana—Heaven and Earth's natural essence—drifted toward him, entering through his pores. With each breath, his body grew warmer. A faint, otherworldly glow surrounded him as the mana circulated through his system.
His injuries began healing quickly. Black sweat seeped from his skin—impurities being purged from within. The process continued for nearly two hours. By the end, his wounds were healed, and his body felt light, clean, and refreshed.
He opened his eyes.
"Now that I have healed, I should go out and train," he said quietly.
He stood up, walked over to the desk, and picked up a scroll. He wrote a brief note about heading out to train and placed it on the bed. Then he picked up the plain sword beside the bed, walked to the window, and leapt out.
The night was quiet, the town still asleep.
Without attracting attention, Sirius left the Arya Clan's premises and headed toward the mountain range behind the town. From the memories he'd absorbed, he knew this place well.
The Grey Mountains were home to numerous spirit beasts—an ideal ground for combat training. It was also a known location for rare herbs and elixirs.
He stepped into the forest calmly. His senses were already adapting to the new body. The physical limitations were clear, but the instincts of a peak warrior made up for them.
He moved without stealth, letting his presence be known. It didn't take long for the forest to respond.
Three Grey Wolves emerged from the shadows and lunged at him. Level 1 low-rank beasts. Not particularly dangerous—but for a boy with no cultivation, they would have been a serious threat.
Sirius didn't back down.
He turned, drew his sword, and prepared to fight.
His movement was fluid. The sword in his hand was nothing special—just steel—but it was enough. His grip was precise, his stance firm.
As the wolves approached, he slashed cleanly through the air. His blade met fur and bone.
One wolf fell. Then the second. The third tried to circle around but was intercepted and brought down with a decisive strike.
The fight ended swiftly.
Sirius stood still for a moment, then calmly began dissecting the beasts. He removed useful materials—claws, fangs, fur. All of them could be sold later.
One of the wolves had a beast core—a small orb formed from condensed blood, spirit, and mana.
He held it in his palm for a moment, then sat down and began refining it.
The process was easy for him. The energy was absorbed cleanly into his body, improving his condition further.
He stood again and continued deeper into the forest.
The rest of the night passed in the same pattern. Beasts attacked. He fought. Won. Harvested. Moved on.
By the time dawn approached, he had filled three large gunny bags with beast parts—materials he could sell or use in crafting.
He had also collected eighteen beast cores.
He refined ten of them and stored the remaining eight for later.
With the infusion of energy from the cores, he had successfully reached Level 4 Martial Disciple.
He stood atop a small hill and watched the sky turn pale with morning light.
His expression was calm, but his intent was clear.
"This is just the beginning."