Dawn arrived without warmth.
Pale light filtered through the thin canopy, turning the forest into a quiet world of silver and shadow. Dew clung to the glowing leaves, each droplet reflecting a sky too distant to feel real.
Xu Yan did not see any of it.
He floated somewhere between sleep and waking, trapped in a heavy stillness where even breathing felt optional. Pain lingered faintly in his body, dulled by exhaustion rather than healed.
For a time, there was nothing.
Then—
a soundless ripple passed through the heavens.
It did not disturb the clouds.
Did not stir the wind.
Did not touch the earth.
Yet something changed.
Far beyond mortal sight, above layers of sky and law and invisible order, a single thread of faint violet light trembled.
It was thin. Fragile.
But unmistakable.
A presence lingered near it—vast, indifferent, ancient beyond measure.
And for the briefest instant…
Heaven looked down.
Xu Yan's eyes snapped open.
Air rushed into his lungs in a sharp gasp, body jerking upright as instinct screamed danger. His heart pounded violently, adrenaline surging through limbs that still felt half-broken.
Silence answered him.
Only morning.
Only forest.
Only the distant call of an unfamiliar bird.
Xu Yan frowned slowly, breath uneven. The feeling faded quickly, leaving behind nothing but unease—like waking from a nightmare already slipping away.
"…What was that?" he whispered.
The Void Devouring Dragon was quiet for several breaths.
Unusually quiet.
Nothing you can fight, it said at last.
That was not comforting.
Xu Yan pressed a hand to his chest, steadying his breathing. His injuries remained, but the sharpest pain had receded. Qi moved weakly through his meridians, rough yet functional.
Alive.
Still.
He exhaled softly. "You could try lying to make me feel better."
You would know, the dragon replied.
"…Fair."
Xu Yan pushed himself to his feet, muscles protesting but obeying. The ground felt more stable than the night before. Even the air seemed calmer, as if the forest itself had decided he was no longer immediate prey.
That alone was suspicious.
Nothing in this world was kind without reason.
Xu Yan scanned his surroundings carefully. No predators. No distortions. Only quiet trees and drifting light.
Yet the unease remained.
He forced himself to focus on what he could control.
"Status," he murmured.
The familiar interface unfolded within his mind.
[Name: Xu Yan]
[Realm: Qi Condensation — Early Stage]
[Void Sense: Crude]
[Bound Primordial Beast: Void Devouring Dragon (Dormant Recovery)]
[Heavenly Attention: Minimal… Increasing]
Xu Yan's gaze stopped.
"…Increasing?"
The words felt heavier than they should.
You survived what should have killed you, the dragon said.
Repeatedly.
Heaven records anomalies.
Xu Yan's stomach tightened. "Records… or removes?"
The dragon did not answer.
Which was answer enough.
Xu Yan looked away from the status screen, jaw tightening. Fear pressed quietly at the edges of his thoughts—but beneath it, something else stirred.
Defiance.
"If Heaven wants me dead," he muttered, "it should've done a better job."
The dragon's low rumble might have been amusement.
Careful, it said.
Arrogance attracts lightning.
Xu Yan snorted weakly. "So does breathing, apparently."
Still… the warning lingered.
Heaven was no longer an abstract idea.
It was watching.
And that meant time was limited.
Xu Yan lifted his gaze toward the deeper forest. Instinct pulled him forward—not safety, not comfort, but movement. Remaining still felt wrong, like waiting for a blade to fall.
Cultivation required resources. Shelter. Knowledge.
And he had none.
"…Then we keep going," he said quietly.
Yes, the dragon agreed.
You crawl forward until crawling becomes walking.
Xu Yan took his first step into the morning light.
Hours passed.
The forest gradually changed as he traveled. Trees grew taller, bark darkening from pale silver to deep violet-gray. Spiritual energy thickened in the air, brushing against his skin like faint mist.
For ordinary cultivators, it would feel nourishing.
For Xu Yan, it felt… incomplete.
Qi alone was not enough anymore.
He sensed fractures instinctively now—tiny irregularities hidden between moments of stillness. Each one whispered faintly to the dragon within him.
Food.
Power.
Danger.
Xu Yan ignored most of them. After last night, recklessness no longer felt heroic—only stupid.
The sun climbed slowly.
By midday, exhaustion returned.
Xu Yan paused beside a narrow stream, lowering himself carefully to drink. The water shimmered faintly with spiritual light, cool against his throat.
For the first time since arriving in this world…
he felt almost peaceful.
Which was exactly when the sky darkened.
Not with clouds.
With pressure.
Xu Yan froze, water still dripping from his chin as instinct screamed louder than ever before. The forest sounds vanished again—deeper this time, more absolute.
Even the flow of the stream seemed to slow.
A shadow passed across the ground.
Xu Yan looked up slowly.
High above the treetops, something moved through the sky—far too high to see clearly, yet impossible to ignore. The air bent subtly around it, like reality itself making way.
Not a beast.
Not a cultivator.
Something… higher.
Xu Yan's heartbeat thundered painfully.
"…Dragon," he whispered.
The answer came immediately, voice lower than ever before.
Do not look directly.
Too late.
For a single fraction of a second—
something looked back.
Xu Yan's vision went white.
Pain speared through his mind, dropping him to his knees with a strangled gasp. It felt as though invisible weight pressed down on his soul itself, measuring, judging, deciding.
Not anger.
Not mercy.
Only evaluation.
Then—
it was gone.
The pressure vanished instantly.
The sky returned to blue.
The forest breathed again.
Xu Yan collapsed forward, catching himself on shaking hands as air tore into his lungs. Cold sweat drenched his back. His entire body trembled uncontrollably.
"…What… was that…" he rasped.
Silence stretched.
Even the dragon hesitated.
A watcher, it said quietly.
Nothing more.
Nothing more.
Xu Yan let out a weak, disbelieving laugh that sounded closer to panic.
"If that's nothing, I don't want to meet something."
The dragon did not disagree.
Xu Yan stayed there for a long time, waiting for his heartbeat to slow, for the trembling to stop.
It didn't fully.
Because deep down…
he understood now.
Heaven wasn't just aware of him.
It had begun to pay attention.
And attention—from something that vast—was never harmless.
A faint chime sounded in his mind.
[Heavenly Attention: Stabilized]
[Luck: Increased]
[Danger: Increased]
Xu Yan stared at the words, dread settling quietly in his chest.
"…Of course," he whispered.
Blessing and threat.
Always together.
Slowly, painfully, he pushed himself back to his feet.
If Heaven was watching…
then standing still was the worst thing he could do.
Xu Yan stepped forward once more, deeper into the unknown forest, unaware that beyond the next stretch of trees—
something ancient waited beneath the earth.
Sleeping.
Hungry.
And bound to awaken the moment he drew near.