Nearly a year had passed since the grand sect competition. Lin Hai had transformed. His cultivation, like his will, had been tempered through fire, forged by battle, and honed through relentless training. From dawn to dusk and deep into the night, he cultivated tirelessly, driven by the memories of the arena and the haunting sensation of nearly dying on the battlefield. With his friends by his side, the fire in his heart never dimmed.
By now, Lin Hai had reached the ninth stage of the Duke Realm, just a single step away from the legendary King Realm. Yet that one step felt like a chasm. He tried everything: breathing techniques, combat simulation, soul strengthening, spiritual refinement—but the breakthrough refused to come. No matter how hard he pushed, the invisible wall held firm.
He'd sought guidance from the sect's top minds. Elder Xue Tong of the Medical Hall taught him advanced alchemical refinement, allowing Lin Hai to enhance his healing capabilities and understand the rhythm of life. Elder Yao Jin, the head of Resource Management, despite his notorious arrogance and greed, had offered Lin Hai rare spiritual herbs and refined treasures, grumbling all the while but never refusing his requests. Elder Bai Qie of the Formation Hall had taught him spatial folding, anchor-point redirection, and protective seals. And Elder Lin Yan of the Ascending Library opened restricted scrolls for him—ancient techniques known only to a few.
Still, no breakthrough.
One evening, Lin Hai stood atop the Celestial Peak, wind carving across his face, spiritual energy swirling like mist. He had just failed another attempt, this one more draining than the last. His breath was ragged. His robe soaked in sweat. The stars above felt farther than ever.
Suddenly, a low hum filled the air. The very fabric of space trembled. An old man appeared, seemingly born from the void itself. Hair white as moonlight, skin folded by time, eyes deep as the abyss of creation.
"Who...?" Lin Hai stood alert.
"I am Yun Yi," the old man said, voice calm as an ancient bell. "They call me the oldest relic of this sect. Once a man. Now a shadow."
"Elder Yun Yi... you are real?" Lin Hai's voice carried awe. Legends said he was a relic of the sect's origins.
"Real enough," Yun Yi chuckled. "Yet the question is not whether I exist, young Hai, but whether your purpose does."
Lin Hai was stunned. "My purpose?"
"You try to break through, but you do not understand what binds you." Yun Yi sat cross-legged in the air, eyes closed. "Strength is not power. It is the will to defy one's own limits. But the path to true power begins when you abandon the need for power itself."
Lin Hai frowned. "But how? I feel as if something unseen holds me back."
"And so it does," Yun Yi murmured. "The heavens test those chosen by fate. But fate is a liar, Lin Hai. Do not trust it blindly. If you follow the river long enough, you become part of the current. But if you break the dam..." He opened his eyes. "You become the storm."
Lin Hai's heart trembled.
"You seek strength. But strength alone cannot carry a soul into divinity. You must seek clarity. In every breath you take, in every drop of sweat spilled, there is a question—why?"
"I want to protect those I care about," Lin Hai answered. "I want to stand tall in this chaotic world."
"Then answer me this: is it the world you fear, or the powerlessness you once felt?"
That hit deeper than any sword.
"You chase power to never feel helpless again. But power gained from fear will one day obey fear. Only when you accept your fear as part of yourself can you surpass it."
"But why can't I break through?" Lin Hai's voice cracked.
Yun Yi smiled faintly. "Because the gate you seek is not outside—it is within. You knock at the door of heaven, but the key is buried inside your soul."
Lin Hai felt a shiver down his spine.
"The path forward is not lit by technique or treasure," Yun Yi continued. "It is carved with suffering, sharpened with patience, and walked with solitude. You are not ready—not because you lack strength, but because your heart still listens for permission."
Yun Yi stood. The stars shimmered as if to honor his rise.
"When you no longer ask if you can... and simply do... the gate will open."
Lin Hai was speechless.
"Remember this, Lin Hai. A thousand masters may teach you the blade, but only silence will teach you the truth. And when the moment comes... you must choose not between light or darkness—but whether you will walk alone."
He turned to leave, vanishing into the void.
"Wait!" Lin Hai called. "Elder Yun Yi... who are you really?"
A whisper rode the wind, barely audible: "I am the last mistake... of a forgotten god."
Then he was gone.
Lin Hai stood alone, shaken, soul stirring, the stars above now seeming just a little closer.
He didn't understand all of Yun Yi's words—but something had changed.
Not in the world.
But in him.
He descended the mountain with renewed clarity, the echoes of philosophy still resonating within. Perhaps the breakthrough wasn't far.
Perhaps it was already beginning.