Disciples

"Kid, where did you learn this kind of Martial arts?" asked a young man with black hair and a blue robe. The blue robe had been created from countless Universes, with stars and sun radiating from it.

The young man is majestic but no aura within him could be felt. No one could deny his existence, even Heaven would let him do whatever he wanted. Even the thought of manipulating space and time.

He appeared, without a noise. Like he owned this place. He is the phantom of the night or the shadow of the day. The only thing that stood at him was his heart and the freedom he had.

In his birth, he crafted his Dao and all the Dao followed him. Without any command or control. He is the source of the Dao.

He watched while a young boy practiced punching, his every punch didn't radiate anything but there was a special rhyme that the young boy produced. No mortals could sense it but a Cultivator as weak as a Meridian Opening could.