Silence.
The kind of silence that felt unnatural—too still, too deep. Like the world itself had paused to witness a shift in fate.
Tianzhan's body lay on the cold stone floor of the disciple quarters, unmoving. His skin was pale, his lips faintly blue. To anyone who passed by, he was already dead.
But inside, a storm was brewing.
In the void of his consciousness, two souls clashed—one, weak and broken; the other, vast and ancient.
"You fought until your last breath, even with no power… you refused to bow."
The ancient soul spoke with grim respect.
"Very well. Your will shall not be discarded. Sleep now. Let me carry the burden you could not."
The remnants of the boy's soul, already fading, seemed to sigh… and then disappeared like mist in the wind.
And then—Tianzhan's eyes snapped open.
But they were no longer the eyes of a helpless youth.
They shimmered with golden light, radiant and terrifying.
He sat up slowly, every joint in his body cracking with quiet finality. Though the body was still frail and poisoned, something had changed. It was as if an ancient beast had awakened inside mortal flesh.
He raised his hand, staring at it.
"This body… weak, malnourished, damaged."
His voice was low, hoarse—but layered with unimaginable age.
"But this spiritual root… this is no ordinary talent. A god-tier body, sealed and crippled by someone… intentionally?"
A cold smile crept onto his face.
"How amusing. You feared this boy's potential so much, you sealed it before he could even grow. Yet now, you've gifted him to me."
He closed his eyes, focusing inward. The immortal soul, now bound to the boy's body, pulsed once—and a wave of divine energy flooded his meridians.
Cracks formed across the spiritual seal buried deep in the boy's dantian.
Boom!
A small surge of spiritual energy burst outward. Nothing major—barely enough to stir a candle's flame. But to Tianzhan, it was the breath of life.
"I'll need time to restore this vessel. But it begins now."
He reached into the folds of his robes and retrieved a single crushed herb left in the boy's pocket—barely useful before. Now, under his precise guidance, it became a tonic, purging the last traces of poison from his blood.
His body convulsed, sweat pouring down his face.
Minutes passed. Then, silence again.
Tianzhan stood.
For the first time in years, the "trash" of Stormwind Sect could feel power pulsing beneath his skin.
"You tried to erase me. You mocked me. You killed me."
His voice was cold and steady.
"Now pray that I've forgotten your names."