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In the vast celestial realm of Aeternia, cultivation is not achieved through Qi alone—it is forged from the memories of past lives. The strongest warriors inherit the wisdom, skills, and regrets of their predecessors, shaping their destiny with echoes of history.

But Xian Ye is different.

Once a god of infinite wisdom, he now finds himself trapped in the body of a forgotten mortal, awakening with no memories, no power, and no past. In a world where the past defines the future, he is cast aside by his sect and left to wither in obscurity.

Until the fragments begin to surface.

Visions of a forgotten era. A shattered throne beyond the heavens. The whispers of ancient deities warning him of an impending catastrophe—a cycle of destruction that has repeated across countless eons. And at its center: a force that has been harvesting the souls of cultivators, twisting their pasts to rewrite fate itself.

With a single shattered memory as his guide, Xian Ye embarks on a journey to reclaim his forgotten divinity. He must navigate a world where the strongest steal memories to cultivate, where entire sects wage war for fragments of the past, and where even the gods themselves fear the truth buried within him.

But the question remains:

Is he truly reclaiming his past… or is he simply a pawn in a cycle far older than time itself?

Eternal Fragments

The Azure Sky Temple was buzzing with tension.

A sect-wide trial was unheard of. Trials of Strength were usually reserved for those attempting to enter the Inner Sect, not forced upon every disciple.

The elders were searching for something—or someone.

And Xian Ye had no doubt that he was at the center of it.

The sun had barely risen when the disciples were gathered in the Outer Sect courtyard, their murmurs filled with uncertainty and fear. The Head Elder stood before them, his expression cold and unreadable.

"The Trial of Strength shall begin at dawn in three days."

"All Outer Sect disciples will participate."

His eyes scanned the crowd, and for the briefest second, Xian Ye felt his gaze linger on him.

"You will enter the Trial Grounds."

"And only those who prove themselves worthy will remain in the sect."

"We're being forced to fight each other?"

Some disciples had spent years training in the Outer Sect, hoping for a chance to rise. Now, in an instant, the elders were telling them that failure meant exile.

Xian Ye watched the reactions unfold, his mind already moving beyond the chaos.

This wasn't just about eliminating the weak.

A way to flush out whoever had disturbed the ruins beneath the sect.

And if the elders were willing to sacrifice dozens of disciples just to find that person—

Then they feared what had been uncovered.

As the crowd erupted in protest, one figure remained silent.

Xian Ye caught his gaze through the sea of panicked Outer Sect members. The man's expression was the same as ever—calm, amused, and entirely too knowing.

Then, without a word, he turned and walked away.

The silver-eyed disciple led him to an isolated section of the training grounds, where no one else was present. He stopped near a stone archway, arms crossed.

Xian Ye didn't answer immediately.

He wasn't sure how much this person knew—or what his true intentions were.

But something in his gut told him that this wasn't just another disciple.

"They're searching for something." Xian Ye finally said. "Or someone."

The silver-eyed disciple's smirk widened.

The man tilted his head, his silver gaze sharp.

"You look at me like you already know me."

"Enough riddles. Are you my ally or my enemy?"

The silver-eyed disciple's smile faded slightly. For a moment, he seemed to consider the question.

The silver-eyed disciple chuckled.

"Then you were never worth remembering."

And just like that, he turned and walked away.

Xian Ye remained standing beneath the stone archway, the silver-eyed disciple's words still lingering in his mind.

If he lost, he would be erased. Forgotten.