As Zhao Ming walked through the bustling streets of the Fire Kingdom capital, a chilling sensation washed over him. It was a familiar feeling, one he couldn't quite place, but it sent a shiver down his spine. He stopped and looked around, trying to pinpoint the source of the disturbance.
Suddenly, he felt a surge of dark energy emanating from a nearby alleyway. Intrigued and slightly alarmed, Zhao Ming followed the sinister aura. As he approached the alley, he saw a creature unlike any he had ever encountered. It was a large, wolf-like beast, its fur a deep, inky black. Its eyes glowed with an unnatural red light, and its claws were long and sharp. The beast was in a frenzy, tearing at the walls and buildings around it.
Zhao Ming's eyes widened in surprise. He had heard tales of Dewwolves, but he had never imagined encountering one, let alone one that had reached the second-order monster beast stage. These creatures were known throughout the world as weak and timid, their only strength being their speed. Yet, the Dewwolf before him was anything but weak.
The beast's eyes, glowing with an unnatural red light.
As the Dewwolf continued its rampage, Zhao Ming watched with a cold, calculating gaze. He knew he had to act quickly, but he also wanted to conserve his energy. The beast was a mere second-order monster, a child's play to him.
With a flick of his wrist, Zhao Ming unleashed a powerful energy blast. The wave of energy slammed into the Dewwolf, sending it flying through the air. The beast crashed into a nearby building, its body crumpling like a rag doll.
The Dewwolf was dead, its reign of terror over. However, as its body lay lifeless, a dark aura began to emanate from it, slowly spreading through the air and enveloping some of the nearby civilians and soldiers.
Zhao Ming's eyes narrowed in concern. He knew he had to do something, but he wasn't sure what.
Zhao Ming's eyes widened in shock as time seemed to freeze around him. He turned to see an elderly man kneeling before him, his face etched with a mixture of reverence and sadness.
"Young Master," the old man began, his voice barely a whisper. "I am merely a remnant soul that you placed with the herb before you died. This will be our last meeting."
Zhao Ming was utterly confused. He had no recollection of ever placing a soul here, nor did he remember dying.
"I will pass your previous life memories to you," the old man continued, his voice growing weaker. "However, they will not come to you all at once. You will slowly unlock them as your cultivation grows stronger."
Zhao Ming was overwhelmed by a sense of dread. What was this old man talking about? Who was he? And why was he speaking to him in such a strange manner?
"Young Master, I know you are confused," the old man said, his voice barely a whisper. "But everything will make sense in time."
As the old man finished speaking, he began to fade away, his form becoming translucent. Before disappearing completely, he uttered one final sentence:
"The holy war will once again happen, as you predicted, Young Master."
With that, the old man was gone, leaving Zhao Ming alone in the frozen world. He stood there for a long time, his mind racing. What did the old man mean by "the holy will"? And what was his connection to Zhao Ming's past life?
Zhao Ming's head throbbed with a sudden intensity as a flood of memories began to wash over him. A spell, a dark energy, a war, a seal, and a vague image of someone who looked eerily like him, chained in a strange place.
The memories were fragmented, like pieces of a puzzle scattered across the floor. But as he delved deeper into his mind, the pieces started to fall into place. He remembered casting a powerful spell to seal away a dark force, a force that threatened to consume the world. He remembered a fierce battle, a sacrifice, and a final act of desperation.
The image of the chained figure became clearer. It was him, or at least a version of him. He was trapped, bound by chains that seemed to emanate from the very fabric of reality. The place he was imprisoned in was dark and desolate, filled with an oppressive silence.
As Zhao Ming's memories continued to unfold, he realized that the dark energy that was now spreading was connected to the ancient seal he had placed on the dark force. The seal was weakening, and the dark force was slowly breaking free.
Zhao Ming, realizing his current weakness, knew he couldn't afford to let the dark energy spread further. With a resolute nod, he dispelled the sinister aura from the civilians and soldiers, their bodies visibly relaxing as the darkness lifted.
He knew he had to act quickly, but he also needed to prepare himself. The evil forest, the source of the dark energy, was a dangerous place, even for a cultivator of his level. With the first rays of dawn painting the sky, Zhao Ming set off, his heart filled with a mix of determination and trepidation.
As Zhao Ming drifted off to sleep in the inn, his mind was filled with the events of the night. The dark energy, the old man's revelations, and the looming threat of the evil forest all swirled around in his thoughts.
In the depths of his slumber, a vision from his past life surfaced. He found himself in a vast, cosmic expanse, watching a battle unfold between two incredibly powerful figures. Their clash was so intense that it shook the very fabric of the universe, destroying countless planets in their wake. The sheer magnitude of their power was awe-inspiring and terrifying.
Startled by the intensity of the dream, Zhao Ming awoke in the middle of the night, his heart pounding. The vision had left him shaken, but it had also ignited a fire within him. If these beings could wield such immense power, then perhaps he, too, could harness the potential of his own abilities.
With renewed determination, Zhao Ming rose from his bed and began to meditate, focusing on drawing strength from the universe around him. He knew that the journey ahead would be perilous, but he was ready to face whatever challenges awaited him.