In the days following the competition, Shenlong could feel the shift in how the sect viewed him. He was no longer seen as just a rising talent; he was now a subject of both admiration and fear. Rumors of his forbidden techniques spread like wildfire, and while many disciples sought to align themselves with him, others kept their distance, wary of the power he wielded.
Zhang Wei remained a steadfast friend, but even he seemed more cautious around Shenlong. The weight of the secrets Shenlong carried began to feel heavier, and the knowledge that the elders were watching him only added to his burden.
Late one night, Shenlong returned to his chamber, the pendant glowing faintly against his chest. He sat in meditation, reaching out to the memories within the pendant, searching for answers. The ancient legacy it held had given him great power, but it had also set him on a path fraught with danger.
Who am I really? Shenlong thought. What is the true purpose of this pendant?
As if in response, the pendant pulsed, and Shenlong was pulled into a vision—a vision of a vast, otherworldly battlefield, where powerful cultivators clashed, their techniques shaking the very heavens. At the center of it all stood a figure, shrouded in light, wearing a pendant identical to his own.
Shenlong's heart raced as the vision faded. The figure was connected to him—of that he was certain. But who were they? And what was their role in the greater scheme of things?
Shenlong clenched his fists. He had come too far to turn back now. He would uncover the truth, no matter the cost.