The crisp scent of grass lingered as Chang Nayun pushed himself to his feet. His white robes, symbols of absolute authority in Navryth, now seemed alien amidst the simplicity of Earth. He stood on a rolling hill overlooking a vast countryside, dotted with farmhouses and dirt paths. Everything was serene, almost unnervingly so.
He glanced at his hands, flexing his fingers. His immense power, still present, felt oddly constrained. The subtle hum of cosmic energy that had been his constant companion for eons was muted here. Yet his senses remained sharp, picking up every minute detail—the sway of the grass, the distant murmur of water, even the faint rustling of leaves from a grove far beyond the hill.
"This… is Earth," he muttered, his voice tinged with uncertainty. But something was off. The air tasted unfamiliar, the sky seemed a shade different, and even the flow of time felt subtly altered. He closed his eyes, extending his perception outward. His consciousness swept across the land, probing deeper.
What he found brought him pause.
Earth's energy had changed. No longer did it feel like the mundane, lifeless world he once knew. Instead, it pulsed faintly with a chaotic energy that seemed to stretch beyond dimensions. Fragments of cultivation energy, though diluted, lingered in the atmosphere. It was almost as if the world had been… altered.
Chang Nayun furrowed his brow. "What happened here while I was gone?"
---
He began walking. The distant farmhouses, though rudimentary, offered the promise of information. His footsteps, though light, left faint imprints on the ground, each step carrying a weight far beyond what the earth could understand. As he approached the first house, the chatter of voices reached his ears.
It was a group of farmers, their faces weathered and their clothing simple yet durable. They stood around a cart laden with hay, talking animatedly. Their language was one Chang Nayun recognized, but the dialect was slightly different—a distortion of the Earth he remembered.
He slowed his pace, observing them. Their movements were natural, their mannerisms familiar. Yet the energy he sensed from them was anything but normal. Each of them carried faint traces of cultivation energy, so weak it was almost unnoticeable, but undeniably there.
Before he could speak, one of the farmers noticed him. The man froze, his expression shifting to one of awe and trepidation. The others turned, their conversations halting mid-sentence. For a moment, there was silence.
"You…" the first farmer stammered, his voice trembling. "Are you… a cultivator?"
Chang Nayun raised an eyebrow. "Cultivator? On Earth?"
The farmers exchanged nervous glances. One of them, a younger man with sharp features, stepped forward. "Forgive us, senior. We did not mean to offend. If you're passing through, please… take what you need."
Chang Nayun stared at them, his mind racing. The term "senior" was one he hadn't expected to hear on Earth. It was a term of respect used in cultivation worlds, yet these ordinary farmers were using it as if it were commonplace.
"I'm not here to take anything," he replied, his voice steady. "I only wish to know… what year is it?"
The farmers looked at each other, confused by his question. Finally, the young man answered. "It's the year 4826, senior. The sixth age of the Divine Ascension Calendar."
Chang Nayun's expression darkened. Divine Ascension Calendar? The Earth he had known never used such a system. The mere existence of this calendar implied that something—or someone—had restructured the world in his absence.
"And where am I?" he asked, his tone sharp.
The older farmer hesitated before replying. "This is the Eastern Borderlands, near the edge of the Lower Zenith Sect's territory. You're about two days' travel from Dawnmist City."
Chang Nayun's frown deepened. None of these names existed on the Earth he remembered. "Lower Zenith Sect? What is that?"
The farmers exchanged uneasy glances. The younger man spoke again. "Senior… are you not from this region?"
Chang Nayun crossed his arms, choosing his words carefully. "You could say that."
The young man nodded, interpreting the answer as confirmation. "The Lower Zenith Sect is one of the smaller sects in this region. They oversee cultivation training for commoners like us and ensure order. Though… they don't often venture this far out."
"So, cultivation sects rule the land now," Chang Nayun muttered under his breath. It explained the traces of energy he had sensed. Earth was no longer the world he had once known. It had become something entirely different—a cultivation world.
---
Without another word, he turned and began walking away. The farmers watched him go, too intimidated to ask further questions. As he descended the hill, his mind churned with questions. How had Earth transformed into a cultivation world? Who—or what—was responsible for this change? And why had the celestial energy of Onalon seeped into this reality?
He needed answers, and the mention of "Dawnmist City" seemed like the best place to start. But before he could formulate a plan, his senses flared.
From the forest ahead, a presence emerged—a faint, predatory aura. Chang Nayun stopped, his gaze locking onto the treeline. Moments later, a figure stepped out.
It was a man, clad in dark, tattered robes. His hair was disheveled, and his eyes gleamed with malice. A crude blade hung at his side, and his aura was laced with hostility. He smirked as he approached, his gaze fixed on Chang Nayun.
"Well, well," the man sneered. "What's a fancy-looking cultivator like you doing out here alone? Don't you know this is my territory?"
Chang Nayun said nothing, his expression unreadable.
The man's smirk widened. "Nothing to say, huh? That's fine. Just hand over your belongings, and I might let you walk away."
Chang Nayun sighed, his patience already wearing thin. He raised a hand, and the air around him shifted. The man froze as an invisible pressure descended, forcing him to his knees.
"You're lucky I'm in a good mood," Chang Nayun said, his voice cold. "Leave now, and I'll spare your life."
The man gasped for air, his arrogance replaced by terror. He scrambled to his feet and fled, disappearing into the forest without a backward glance.
As the silence returned, Chang Nayun lowered his hand. The encounter had been trivial, yet it confirmed one thing: this world was not as peaceful as it appeared. Danger lurked in every corner, and he would need to tread carefully.
With a determined stride, he continued toward Dawnmist City, ready to uncover the truth about the world that had once been his home.