"What year is it now?"
Young James answered without hesitation. "The three hundred and seventy-first year of the Wei Empire. Third month by the lunar calendar."
The old man smiled, a distant look crossing his weathered features. "So it's this time. When I was young, I was fascinated by stories of the martial world—tales of wandering swordsmen and hidden treasures. It seems those stories have finally proven useful."
He paused, gathering his thoughts. "I can't remember everything clearly, but there are a few events that might help you now. If my memory serves... within the next six months, a spirit tree in neighboring Springmount City will bear fruit. A spirit fruit. It will fall into the hands of a hunter—a Mortal Realm cultivator named Tiger. Tiger Warren. He'll consume it and become a Master not long after."
James's eyes went wide.
A spirit fruit was a treasure beyond price, the kind of thing that couldn't be bought with any amount of silver. And a Master-level expert? That was someone who commanded respect anywhere in the Wei Empire. The Everett Family was powerful within Sunvale City, but before a true Master, they were nothing.
"I have to get that fruit," James said, his voice firm. "No matter what."
"Beyond the spirit fruit," the old man continued, "there's an auction in Northriver Prefecture, ten years from now. A black stone will appear among the lots. If you have the chance to bid on it, do so quietly. Don't draw attention to yourself." His expression grew serious. "That stone contains the legacy of the Riverway Sword Sect—a Grand Master's inheritance. The sect was annihilated for participating in a rebellion against the throne. If anyone discovers you possess their legacy, you'll become an enemy of the empire itself."
"In my timeline, the man who won that auction was exposed thirty years later. His entire family was exterminated."
The warning hung heavy in the air.
"If you're not willing to take that risk, don't bid at all."
A Grand Master's legacy. James knew the history of his own family's rise—the Everett ancestor had obtained just a few moves from a Master's inheritance through military merit, and that alone had been enough to establish their household as a power in Sunvale City. A Grand Master was a realm above even that. Such a legacy would cause a bloodbath the moment word of it spread.
Before James could respond, the old man pressed on. "Fifty years from now, in the Eternal Mountains, a legacy site will emerge. Someone above the Grand Master level. Possibly even... a Celestial."
*A Celestial.*
There were perhaps thirty or forty Grand Masters in the entire Wei Empire, counting both those known to the public and those hidden in shadow. But Celestials? Those ancient monsters could be counted on one hand.
James felt his heart pound with longing. He wished he could leap forward fifty years this very instant.
Seeing his expression, the old man chuckled softly—and then fell silent.
James waited. And waited. The old man spread his hands.
"That's all."
"That's *all?*" James couldn't hide his disbelief.
The old man laughed and shook his head. "Do you think opportunities grow on trees? When something valuable appears, the great sects, the noble houses, and the imperial court divide it among themselves before word even leaks to the public. Three fate-changing opportunities in a hundred years is already remarkable. How would I know about the smaller ones?"
He was right, of course. Most opportunities were claimed before anyone outside the inner circles even heard of them.
"But," the old man said, his tone shifting, "I do have one last thing to leave you."
He reached to the side and lifted something into view—a long black saber. The blade radiated killing intent so thick James could almost taste it. Only then did he notice the sounds coming from behind the old man. Distant screams. The crash of something massive moving. Terror given voice.
*What's happening over there?*
The old man gripped the saber and looked at the young face in the mirror. "You'll have plenty of time to learn the family techniques. I won't waste our remaining moments on those."
"What I can give you is the technique I created myself, refined over a hundred years. I never roamed the martial world. Never tested myself in its battles. But in sixty years of leading the Everett Family, I've fought invisible wars more brutal than any clash of swords." His voice grew quiet. "I call it the Fatal Divide. The enemy lives, and I die. The enemy dies, and I live. There is no middle ground."
James stared at the old man—at his straight spine, at the saber in his grip, at the chaos visible in the shadows behind him.
"You're going to die, aren't you?"
The old man nodded slowly. "Most likely. Three days ago, a Calamity Seed appeared in Sunvale City. Every expert in the city has already fallen to it. I'm the last line of defense, buying time for the family and the civilians to evacuate." He smiled, and it was the smile of a man who had made peace with his fate. "This old body doesn't have many years left anyway. I might as well make them count."
*Calamity.*
The word sent ice through James's veins. Calamities were disasters that even the strongest feared. The weakest of them required Master-level experts to resolve—and this one had already killed everyone else.
Through the mirror, James watched the old man push open a door and step outside. The world beyond was painted in shades of red. A massive tree stood at the center of the carnage, its branches heavy with impaled corpses. Most horrifying of all, the bodies weren't still. Their eyes rolled. Their mouths moved. Some of them spoke in broken, rattling voices.
"So it came to this after all," the old man murmured. "The Blood Tree has formed a Domain. At least most of the civilians and family disciples have already escaped."
A layer of energy rose from the black saber—visible now, like fire clinging to the blade. *Transcendent Aura.* The old man advanced, and the corpses fell from the tree like rain, hitting the ground in twisted poses before rising again. They staggered toward him, eyes fixed and empty, a horde of the dead.
The old man cut through them without hesitation. Many had been experts in life, warriors of Sunvale City. Now they were nothing but puppets. He carved a path through their ranks until he reached the base of the Blood Tree itself, where a face had emerged from the bark—features twisted in agony, mouth open in a silent scream.
"Now," the old man whispered.
The saber drew a black crescent through the air. In the next instant, the old man shot forward like a cannonball, his body compressed to its absolute limits, an afterimage trailing behind him as he struck—
The image vanished.
James slapped the mirror's surface. "No! Come back! What happened?"
---
*"A hundred years of life, only to guard my family's land. The grand dreams of my youth... all turned to bubbles. A mayfly's dream."*
A thick, sharp thorn had pierced through the old man's chest. He no longer had the strength to struggle. The mirror floated before him, its surface flickering, the image of his younger self fading away.
His eyelids grew heavy. There was no fear in his heart—only curiosity.
*What path will the past me walk?*
*I wish I could see it.*
*A pity...*
As the old man's eyes closed for the final time, the mirror floating before him shattered. Points of light scattered across his body like falling stars, and then—
On the other side of time, James flinched as golden light exploded from the bronze surface. It struck his forehead like a bolt of lightning, and ancient characters burned themselves into his vision:
**[Comprehension +10]**
**[Acquired Innate Technique: Fatal Divide]**
**[Mirror Master: James Everett]**
**[Comprehension: 20]**
James stared at the words until they faded, leaving only darkness in the mirror's surface.
His future self was gone.
And somehow, impossibly, a part of that hundred-year journey now lived within him.
---
**End of Chapter 2**