Meng Xia looked around him, on high alert. Where was he? This wasn't the old temple he had been in seconds ago, and it wasn't the Stronghold either. He leapt out of bed, landing in a combat-ready stance. At least, that was what he thought would happen. Instead, his feet tripped on each other mid-air and he faceplanted into the floor.
There was a metallic taste in his mouth. Meng Xia was in a bit of shock. A Master, even one who had forcefully broken through like himself, had a tough and durable body reinforced by Inner Qi. How could he have cut his lip on a wooden floor? Even tempered iron would probably have been dented had he knocked into it!
Meng Xia looked down at himself. He was shirtless, having worn only a pair of worn out, comfortable undergarments to bed. However, he was not looking at that, but instead at his body. It wasn't the robust musculature, battle-worn with scars from a decade of nonstop battle. It was a scrawny, pale and smooth frame with only a slight sign of muscle. ...how long had he been out for?
He sized up his surroundings carefully. It was a medium-sized courtyard — a bit old but certainly not dilipidated. Meng Xia recognised the strangely familiar place. This was the courtyard he used to live in during his childhood, that he had to abandon when it burned down with the rest of Xia Yang City after the Demons set fire to it.
How had he returned here? Was this a dream?
Meng Xia looked back on his memories. Having fled from a Demon Grandmaster into an old temple... He had travelled back into the past? It seemed like there was more to it, but the harder t
he tried to remember, the more it seemed nothing was off.
Meng Xia put that aside for the moment. First, had he indeed travelled into the past? He walked into his courtyard and observed the hardly-used training dummy, the distant silhouettes of landmarks, and the chatter of the crowd two streets down. If this was indeed an illusion, Meng Xia would be happy to live in it forever.
He returned to his residence, using his old memories to dress himself up in a set of good quality cotton robes. Meng Xia sighed. It was only after being reborn was he able to appreciate his father more.
This courtyard, a sizable monthly allowance, the clothing, private tuition from a well-known Martialist — this was his father's compensation for not recognising his illegitimate child, for not being able to bring him up personally, for not being able to put him on the family registry.
Meng Xia sighed. In his youth, he had hated his father, comparing his treatment to that of the legitimate heir who had more of everything. Prospectives broadened, he now knew that all of this did not necessarily have to be given. The bastard children who were worse off than him were too many to count.
Meng Xia walked to the main road. It was bustling, with crowds of people moving together, like a river after snowmelt. He followed the flow of people for a bit, taking in contextual clues.
The Common Temple hasn't been built yet... This is before Year 548 of the Arken Calendar.
Blue silk is popular among men now, looks like it's at least the Year 540.
After a while, Meng Xia guessed that it was the Year 541, and confirmed with a nearby shopkeeper the date. He was only seventeen right now, almost eighteen. This was good news to Meng Xia!
This was because he hadn't yet met his father, the City Lord of Xia Yang City. Eighteen is considered the age at which people became independent. People would move out, get married, et cetera. For him, his father, the City Lord of Xia Yang, would meet him in person since his birth, and reward him with 250 Gold and a Spirit Artifact.
This was already outstanding. Ten Coppers to a Silver, 10 Silvers to a Gold. Considering that a filling meal would cost about 3 to 5 Coppers, 250 Gold could feed him for at least 22 years. A Spirit Artifact could not only save his life in certain situations, but even the more niche Artifacts would cost at least 100 Gold with useful Artifacts going for up to 500 Gold at auctions.
However, previous Meng Xia had not appreciated this. He only compared his private meeting to the ball held for his half-brother, his 250 Gold to his brother's 1500, and his one Spirit Artifact to his brother's three. To this, the current Meng Xia could only say: how naïve, how spoilt, how foolish! His father's gift to him was a personal one, whereas his half-brother's was official; simply incomparable.
Meng Xia had a lot of plans right now. It was without a doubt that he had to stay in Xia Yang City until he received met with his father — how else would he get the necessary funding? From there, he wanted to use his knowledge to go around the Realm, seizing opportunities and preparing the Human Race.
Naturally, he wasn't naïve enough to think that him proclaiming an invasion from the Demon Race, which had been last seen before the Fall of the Gods would produce any effects. In the best case scenario, he would be thought of as mad and ignored, while in the worst case scenario he might be arrested and imprisoned for fearmongering.
Now, the Human Race was not under threat, and internal conflict was rife. For example, the Empire would ambush and seriously injure the Pinnacle Venerable Fenrir, Chieftain of the Wolf Tribe, two years from now, ridding him of the slim chance he had to ascend to Perfector. This was solely because of the fear that the Northern Tribe Chieftain might become hostile to them after breaking through.
Well, for now, while those plans were good... Meng Xia looked down at himself. He was currently not even a Practitioner, he wouldn't even be able to interfere with matters involving Masters, much less Venerables. It looked like it was time to do some training.