The Mortal Realm was always chaotic. It was a realm where the strong ruled, and the weak were trampled underfoot. It was a place where ambition, greed, and desire shaped the very fabric of existence. But even within the chaos, there was a certain order, a predictable pattern that Lian Xian had come to understand over the course of countless years. Everything moved in cycles—like a grand, intricate dance. It was just a matter of learning the rhythm, and once one did, controlling the dance was inevitable.
From the secret sanctuary of his void realm, Lian Xian could see the Mortal Realm as if it were a puppet show. He could watch everything unfold, every decision, every movement. And now, as he set his first pawn—Wulian Qor—into motion, the game had officially begun.
Wulian, a brute of a man in terms of strength, had been a simple mercenary, accustomed to violence and simple pleasures. He had never aspired to anything beyond his station. His world was one of steel and sweat, where survival was a daily challenge. But all that was about to change.
Through the system, Lian Xian had provided him with knowledge, power, and, most importantly, a vision. Wulian no longer needed to live a simple life of petty squabbles and mundane missions. He had a higher purpose now. He would climb the ranks, grow in strength, and serve a greater cause.
But to get there, he had to dance to the rhythm Lian Xian set.
Wulian Qor stood on a grassy hill overlooking a sprawling city in the distance. His heart beat with a familiar thrum of anticipation. The city of Yingshi was a notorious hub for mercenaries like him—lawless, ruthless, and full of opportunity. It was a city where the strong thrived, and the weak were crushed. Perfect for someone like Wulian.
He had been hired by a local lord to eliminate a rival gang that had been encroaching on his territory. It was a job Wulian had done a thousand times before. But this time was different. The system's influence flowed through him, imbuing him with a sense of purpose that had never existed before.
"You've been given the tools to rise," the system whispered in his mind. "Now, show the world who you are."
Wulian's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword as he began his descent into the city. His footsteps were firm, resolute, and his thoughts clear. He could feel the pulse of the city, its people oblivious to the storm that was about to hit.
Within the city, rumors had already begun to spread. Wulian's reputation preceded him, even if only by a small margin. He was known as a man of brute strength, someone who could cut through anything in his path. But what the people didn't know was that he had just entered into something far grander than any of them could ever comprehend.
Lian Xian observed all of this from his seat in the void, a soft smile playing across his face. Wulian was still unaware of the full extent of his power, of the path he was meant to walk. But that would come in time. For now, he was the perfect instrument for Lian Xian's game.
In the heart of Yingshi, a bloody war had already begun. Wulian tore through the rival gang's defenses with ease, cutting down men twice his size as if they were mere weeds to be uprooted. His power surged, and with each swing of his sword, he felt the thrill of battle course through him. But there was a coldness within him too, a quiet, unshakable thought that lingered at the edge of his mind.
Something was guiding him. Something unseen.
As he stood over the body of his latest victim, blood splattered across his face, Wulian's thoughts drifted. There was a pull in his chest, a subtle urging that he could not ignore. And, deep down, he knew that whatever awaited him—whatever this strange feeling was—it would change everything.
Lian Xian's eyes gleamed in the vast emptiness of his void. The game was starting to unfold as he had hoped. Wulian had taken the bait, fallen into the rhythm. But Lian Xian knew that things would soon get complicated. Power always came with its consequences.
"Master," the system's voice echoed in his mind, playful as ever, "Wulian is certainly making a name for himself."
Lian Xian didn't respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed on Wulian's progress, the careful manipulation of fate unfolding before him. But there was no excitement in his eyes, no thrill—only a quiet, almost detached curiosity.
"Yes," Lian Xian finally said, "but this is only the beginning. He will need more. To truly understand his place in this world, he must be tested."
The system hummed. "And you intend to put him through these tests, do you?"
Lian Xian's lips curled upward, his voice now taking on a faint edge of amusement. "Testing? No. It's not about testing. It's about showing him the true depths of what he can become. Wulian will rise—whether he wants to or not."
Back in the Mortal Realm, Wulian felt it. The pull, the call. It wasn't just his own desires, not just the thrill of power or strength. No, it was something else—something far greater. The moment he'd slain the last member of the rival gang, he felt it.
A surge of power.
A burst of knowledge.
And with it, a new understanding. He wasn't just a mercenary, a blade for hire. He was a tool, an instrument of a larger plan. And though he didn't yet know it, he was already walking down a path that would lead him into a much deeper game—one far beyond his comprehension.
But for now, he reveled in the power. The thrill of victory.
Little did he know that with every step he took, the strings that bound him were being drawn tighter. The dance had just begun, and soon, there would be no turning back.
Lian Xian's voice echoed once more in the void, a low murmur as he watched his puppet's movements. "Let the first thread be pulled. Let him take his first step."
The system responded in kind, "Master, you are truly a connoisseur of fate. The world will soon dance to your tune."
As the void shimmered, Lian Xian's gaze turned inward, focusing on the next phase of his plan. The world, after all, was just a canvas. And he, as always, was the artist.