Ling Zhan stared at the mysterious boy who had pulled him away from the disaster-class storm, his heart filled with confusion.
He couldn't understand why the child had appeared, nor why he had chosen to save him.
And the "deal" he mentioned—what did that mean?
The boy spoke first.
"What's your name?"
"Ling Zhan."
"Hmm, that's not important. What's important is—do you want to make a deal with me?"
Ling Zhan looked at the boy's serious expression, his voice coaxing yet filled with certainty. He couldn't understand what value he still had left for a trade.
"I don't understand."
"That doesn't matter. The key thing is, if you sign a contract with me, you'll gain an unlimited future—including the restoration of your broken body."
Ling Zhan looked down at his body, the place where his arms had once been.
He shook his head.
"I have no value."
"No, you are invaluable to me."
The boy's voice was firm.
"Perhaps you still don't know what merged with your forehead just now. That was a miraculous artifact known as the 'Sacred Spirit Consciousness Vault.' Even without my guidance, the knowledge stored inside is enough to benefit you endlessly."
Hearing this explanation, Ling Zhan suddenly recalled the strange sensation in his body earlier.
The boy smirked.
"Do you want to learn how to unlock and use the Sacred Spirit Consciousness Vault? I can teach you."
Ling Zhan's gaze grew sharp.
"If it's so important, why don't you just kill me and take it for yourself?"
At that, the boy rubbed his chubby cheeks and sighed.
"I'm... special."
His voice was filled with a strange regret.
"This isn't my true body. My real self cannot fuse with miraculous artifacts, nor can I use them. So, I have to find other ways to utilize them."
After a brief pause, the boy suddenly took a step forward.
He reached out, pressing his finger against Ling Zhan's forehead.
A sharp pain exploded inside Ling Zhan's skull.
His long hair fluttered wildly despite the still air.
The pain grew stronger, as if his consciousness was about to shatter.
Just as he thought his mind was about to collapse, the boy withdrew his hand and smiled.
"Tsk. I thought it was something serious. You were just betrayed and abandoned—that's all."
Ling Zhan's eyes widened.
"You... read my memories?"
The boy shrugged.
"Something like that. Your memory is short, so it was easy to read. If it were those long-lived races, I wouldn't dare. Doing that would seriously damage my avatar."
With a grin, the boy sat down beside Ling Zhan.
"Since you've already realized that your own race is your true home, it's not too late. Have you ever thought about changing your people's fate?"
Ling Zhan froze.
"What do you mean?"
"You once fought for the Mist Clan with unwavering faith. Why can't your future be dedicated to your own people's rise?"
The boy's voice was enticing, filled with a dangerous certainty.
"You have the power to erase the order you hate, to lead your race forward, and to become stronger than the Mist Clan ever was."
Ling Zhan's dim eyes suddenly regained their fire.
"How do I do that?"
"That's up to you. I can only point the way. But before we get to that—you're dying. Want to fix that first?"
Ling Zhan hesitated.
"What if I don't sign the contract?"
The boy grinned, his voice brutally honest.
"Then you die. And I won't save you. In fact, after you die, I might even spit on your corpse for wasting my time."
Ling Zhan: "...…"
His vision blurred.
He had lost too much blood, and his consciousness was fading.
He knew he wouldn't last much longer.
But deep inside, something had reignited—a flame that had been snuffed out before he even realized it.
Why should the Psionic Race remain a subordinate race?
Why should they have no future of their own?
The boy, still carrying his backpack, waved his hand.
A scroll appeared in midair and unfolded before Ling Zhan.
Mysterious ancient words began appearing on its surface, line by line.
As the text filled the scroll, the boy held it out.
Then, he pressed a finger against Ling Zhan's forehead.
A flood of information surged into Ling Zhan's mind.
Suddenly, he could read the scroll's words.
They were not written in any conventional language.
Each symbol contained vast amounts of knowledge—as if an entire book had been condensed into a single character.
The scroll detailed three main restrictions of the contract.
1. The contract signer and the contract issuer cannot harm each other. If either party violates the contract, they will be punished by its rules.
2. The contract issuer is granted one absolute command that the signer must obey in the future. The issuer may decide when to use this command, and there are no restrictions on it—even if the command is for the signer to end their own life, it must be obeyed. Failure to comply results in punishment by the contract's rules.
3. The contract is overseen by an external force. Once the contract ends, all traces of its existence will be erased, and both parties will be freed from any obligations.
At the bottom of the scroll, two names were displayed.
Contract Issuer: Mo
Contract Signer:
"Don't worry, I won't make you kill yourself. As long as you sign this contract, you will have a future of unlimited possibilities. What are you hesitating for?" Mo added.
Ling Zhan carefully analyzed the contract's contents. After a long silence, he finally nodded.
"Use your blood to sign it, and then we'll be friends." Seeing Ling Zhan agree, Mo grinned.
"I don't have hands."
"How troublesome. Then let's fix that first…"
Half an hour later, Mo was gone, and Ling Zhan stood up.
Looking down at his fully restored body, everything that had just happened felt like a dream.
He ran his fingers over the golden imprint on his forehead. He knew that he had been reborn.
But he also understood he couldn't return to the Mist Clan yet—he had no way to explain how his body had healed. He understood the principle of "a treasure invites calamity."
As an outsider, his miraculous recovery would only make the Mist Clan see him as a threat.
Still, he knew he had to return eventually. Otherwise, he had no way of finding the path back to the Psionic Race.
But not yet.
His gaze shifted toward the dense forest in the distance.
For the next three months, Ling Zhan hid in the forest three kilometers west of the battlefield.
Aside from gathering food, he spent all his time immersing himself in the knowledge of the Sacred Spirit Consciousness Vault.
Through the legacy left by its previous owner, the Tian Duo Race, Ling Zhan finally realized how vast the world truly was. The place they lived in was merely one layer of the Domain World.
With his worldview shattered and rebuilt, his desire to uplift the Psionic Race burned even stronger.
The inheritance of the Tian Duo Race contained countless methods to change the Psionic Race's fate.
Three months later, Ling Zhan returned to the war town.
Before leaving, he deliberately inflicted multiple wounds on himself. He even tore off his own arms and used the Tian Duo's methods to disguise the injuries.
He also concealed the golden imprint on his forehead.
This was to mislead the Mist Clan.
A useless warrior posed no threat.
Only by making them believe he was crippled would the Mist Clan be willing to release him under the pretense of "retiring an external warrior."
His plan worked perfectly.
When news spread of Ling Zhan's return, the leaders of the External Corps and the war town's governor were shocked.
By then, Ling Zhan had lost all value to them. But he had once fought bravely for the Mist Clan and earned merits in battle.
An outsider was still an outsider, but Ling Zhan had risen above the level of a mere slave soldier.
As expected, he was forcibly retired.
After staying in the war town for a month, he traveled back to Mist King City with a supply convoy.
Eventually, his people took him back to the Psionic Race's territory.
He was welcomed home with warmth.
His fellow clansmen greeted him with admiration and respect.
But looking at their hopeful and eager expressions, Ling Zhan felt a deep sorrow.
The Mist Clan's rule had been a complete success.
They had crushed the Psionic Race's will to grow, to the point where their greatest aspiration was to become an external warrior for the Mist Clan.
Once, Ling Zhan had thought nothing was wrong with this.
But now, he saw the truth.
With the Sacred Spirit Consciousness Vault, he finally understood.
The world was vast.
No dream was impossible.
And no powerful race was truly eternal.
The Tian Duo Race had once been far stronger than the Mist Clan, yet they had faded into history.
If that was the case, then why couldn't the Psionic Race seize their own future?
His heart ached, but at the same time, the flames of revolution burned fiercely in his chest.
He knew that changing the Psionic Race would take time. Generations, even.
The current generation had been brainwashed—their worship of the Mist Clan was deeply ingrained.
The future belonged to the new generation.
Ling Zhan's first step was educational reform.
Thanks to his special status, this wasn't difficult.
As a retired external warrior, he had the authority to teach the younger generation.
The new generation was like a blank canvas, full of potential.
For the next several years, Ling Zhan split his time between studying the Sacred Spirit Consciousness Vault and training promising youths.
He instilled in them a strong sense of racial identity and belonging.
He started with history and culture.
He compiled the fragments of the Psionic Race's history, piecing together their past.
Then, he submitted a proposal to the clan's leadership, advocating for the establishment of a historical record.
As a result, history became a mandatory subject for the younger generation.
At first, the reforms were a success.
But after a few years, Ling Zhan noticed a problem.
Once the children left his influence, their mindset gradually reverted.
The older generation still held a deep admiration for the Mist Clan.
And the leaders of the Psionic Race—the ones still loyal to the Mist Clan—became the biggest obstacle to change.
To change this, Ling Zhan spent five years preparing.
He realized that if he wanted to change the Psionic Race, he had to gain a position of power, one that would allow him to guide the clan's future.
Through his efforts, the fire of revolution ignited within the Psionic Race.
Countless young warriors rallied, chanting slogans to overthrow the old order as they stormed the Spirit Energy Hall.
After that, Ling Zhan successfully took power.
He abolished the monarchy and redefined the leader's role as the "Order Keeper."
Over decades of effort, Ling Zhan gradually transformed the Psionic Race, freeing their minds from the chains of submission.
With each new generation, a question began to spread:
"Why must we serve the Mist Clan?"
But this alone was not enough.
Ideological freedom couldn't break physical chains—to break free from the Mist Clan, they needed strength above all.
Compared to other races that also served the Mist Clan, the Psionic Race was weak.
They were bullied often and had no means to resist, let alone challenge the Mist Clan's rule.
In the Sacred Spirit Consciousness Vault, Ling Zhan found many spells and techniques.
Spells could be universally applied, but the Tian Duo Race's cultivation techniques were useless for the Psionic Race.
Creating their own techniques would take an immense amount of time and would require generations to refine.
So, Ling Zhan began scouring the Sacred Spirit Consciousness Vault, searching for a solution.
During this time, life in the Psionic Race continued as usual.
Aside from reforming their ideology, Ling Zhan still sent young warriors to the Mist Clan, letting them fight under their banner.
It was all to buy time for the clan's eventual rise.
Because at this moment, the Mist Clan could wipe them out at any time.
Ling Zhan focused entirely on finding a way to strengthen the clan.
The Sacred Spirit Consciousness Vault held a vast amount of knowledge, as boundless as the starry sky—his mind couldn't possibly absorb everything at once.
He had to search manually, carefully selecting the knowledge he needed.
Finally, he compiled a large number of body-strengthening techniques, hoping to use them to enhance the Psionic Race's development.
In the following years, the young warriors of the Psionic Race saw remarkable improvement in their strength.
But then, an event occurred that gave Ling Zhan a deep sense of crisis.
The old chieftain of the Mist Clan suffered severe injuries in a war and voluntarily abdicated.
The new chieftain, Mi Yun, ascended to power.
As soon as he took control, Mi Yun enacted a series of reforms.
To better govern the Mist Clan's territories, he decreed that every year, official representatives would be sent to inspect each vassal race, auditing their resources and weapons.
This was a devastating blow for Ling Zhan.
The new policy meant the Mist Clan would tighten control over its vassals, ensuring no unexpected changes occurred.
Secretly developing the Psionic Race was about to become much harder.
In particular, hiding excess resources would be impossible.
If they stockpiled too many supplies, the Mist Clan would grow suspicious.
But without resources, there was no way for the Psionic Race to grow.
Cultivation required resources.
Forging weapons and armor required resources.
Even nurturing warriors' physical potential required resources.
With these new restrictions, there was no way to grow.
The Mist Clan's policies had completely blocked their path forward.
Realizing that gradual development was no longer an option, Ling Zhan searched for a new path.
He soon found it.
Within the Tian Duo Race's knowledge, there were many forbidden projects.
Most were incomplete, like double-edged swords—they could either accelerate development or bring destruction.
For example, the Chimera Demon experiment had once crippled the Tian Duo Race's progress and even paved the way for their eventual downfall.
But among these forbidden projects, one gave Ling Zhan hope.
It was called the "Sacred Spirit Body Project."
The goal of this project was to transform lifeforms into a hybrid state, half physical and half spiritual.
This would grant them the advantages of elemental lifeforms, making them naturally attuned to magic.
If this project succeeded, the Tian Duo Race's spells could be used freely, without worrying about meridian compatibility or spirit energy quality.
History has proven one thing:
A race's rise to power takes generations.
The descendants of strong warriors naturally inherit greater potential than their predecessors.
Over generations, this compounded strength creates a mighty race.
A child born to a strong race might have more power at birth than an entire lifetime of cultivation for a weaker race.
Because their ancestors paved the way, creating a golden path for future generations.
Now that the Mist Clan's new policies had stifled their gradual growth, Ling Zhan decided to embrace the forbidden path.
He would modify the bodies of his people, helping them break free from their physical limitations.
Instead of waiting generations for their potential to accumulate, he would fast-track their evolution.
This was a shortcut—but one fraught with danger.
Ling Zhan decided to take the first step himself.
He would test the forbidden experiment on his own body and unlock its secrets.