Chapter 2: The First Spark

At the peak of an unknown mountain, Gu An arrived at a massive palace surrounded by numerous buildings, open courtyards, and gardens, giving it the appearance of a fortified stronghold. He stood before the palace, which clearly served as the central or main structure.

However, before he could enter, he was stopped by a girl with short, light brown hair that reached her shoulders and piercing gray eyes. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Gu An bowed deeply and stepped aside, not daring to lift his head until she had passed.

But just before she walked away, the girl halted and turned to face him.

"You."

"Yes," Gu An responded quickly, tightening his bow, afraid he might offend her without meaning to.

"Why have you been leaving so often? And today, you took even longer than usual."

"I visit the grave of someone dear to me. The delay was due to some matters involving that person's son."

"You're telling me you've been spending five hours with a rotting corpse? That's too much time, even for the living—let alone the dead. Don't go there again; it's a waste of time. If you're that free, go work with the exploration teams."

"Understood."

She glanced at him with disappointment and muttered, "Tsk, coward."

She had wanted him to resist, to speak up. But as always, no one dared oppose someone like her. The gap in status was too vast.

When she finally left, clearly displeased, Gu An remained bowing. Tears streamed down his face.

That was it—one word was enough to sever his bond with the most precious thing in his life.

The whims of those in power could destroy someone's world, yet they never seemed to care. They even helped manage the aftermath, reducing people to numbers, stripping them of meaning.

Gu An couldn't endure it any longer. He had to witness the love of his life taken away with hatred by another man, who promised to raise her child with hatred—and now, to be separated from her again... with hatred.

His throat tightened, and his breathing grew shallow as sobs built up inside him. Suddenly, he collapsed to his knees and lowered his face to the ground.

...

Back at the inn, Lucian sat by the window, one leg hanging inside the room.

"Hmm, I guess I need to regain my strength. If this is truly a return to the past, then my memories should prove useful."

He stepped down from the window, shut it, and lay on the bed.

"In my past life, I became a general and the most powerful landowner under the Ten Families. No one could rival me. Eventually, I broke away and founded a democratic republic. That didn't sit well with certain families. Thankfully, I had allies among some of them, which prevented the rest from taking immediate action."

"Over time, war broke out between the families. The Light Family attacked me directly, branding me a traitor general."

"These bastards... even in a dying world, they still thirst for blood."

"In this life, I won't serve as anyone's general. I'll grow stronger in secret."

"Especially out of sight from her. If not for her obsession and fanaticism, the Light Family wouldn't have targeted me or cared about the town I controlled."

"No matter. The past is the past—or is it the future? Ugh, annoying. The bright side is I can regain my strength faster and seize— I mean, take opportunities."

Lucian spent some time organizing his thoughts and memories. He realized he had only lost the final part of them. He didn't know how he had ended up here, but one thing was clear—he wouldn't sit idle. He would continue the mission he once failed...

To overthrow the Ten Families.

Anyone who heard that would laugh out loud.

It was madness. The Ten Families were beyond comprehension. Their power, talent, and cultivation reached levels no ordinary cultivator could even imagine.

But did Lucian care? Not at all.

He would scheme in the shadows, sow discord among them, and let them destroy each other—just like he nearly succeeded in doing before.

He had even succeeded in eliminating several key members.

Lucian squatted down and began to meditate.

It was time to regain his cultivation.

Three hours passed. Lucian felt nothing.

Two more hours passed before he sensed it—chi was accumulating in his dantian.

He opened his eyes in shock.

"What's happening? Has the process already begun? Damn, this is way too fast... No, it doesn't make sense. This should take months of meditation, some physical preparation, and herbal supplements."

But the sensation was real. Chi was indeed building up in his dantian.

He had no choice. He had to channel it into his bones. Keeping too much chi in the dantian without refining the body could be dangerous—his body might not be able to absorb it, and he could explode.

As he directed the chi into his bones, Lucian was struck by excruciating pain. He pressed his head into the bed and screamed.

Minutes later...

"What the hell was that?!"

None of this made sense. It wasn't supposed to happen so quickly or painfully.

After steeling himself, Lucian tried again. This time, it felt as if his bones were being carved by flaming knives.

Minutes passed. Then hours. Time lost all meaning.

The chi pouring into his dantian wasn't a small amount. Any delay in transferring it could lead to his death.

Lucian couldn't explain this rapid advancement, but he knew it played to his advantage.

However, despite the enormous chi, his bones weren't refining.

"I think I'll stop for today. I have a theory, but I'm not sure yet."

The most plausible explanation, he figured, was his soul. If his soul truly returned to the past, that would explain everything.

Here's how cultivation normally worked:

Chi transferred from the dantian directly to the bones without being stored—to avoid exploding the body.

The bones were refined by the chi. During this process, the soul merged with the body through chi as a medium, reshaping the bones to match the soul.

The same process continued for blood, flesh, tendons, organs, and nerves.

Once completed, the body and soul became one, making it easier for the body to handle chi—not because the body grew stronger, but because the burden was distributed to the soul.

If Lucian's guess was correct, his soul from his past life was still intact.

And this soul had undergone tempering not once, not twice, but three times—an extraordinary feat, even among the Ten Families.

That was his greatest strength—what made him the strongest under them.

If his body now underwent refinement with that tempered soul...

Lucian's breath quickened in anticipation. The potential behind this process was immense, unheard of.

He was on the verge of testing something no one had ever experienced before.