Many people yearn to be born in a place of martial arts excellence, to have powerful authority and abundant resources from the moment they are born.But for Tianfan, he longed to be born into an ordinary family, to live an ordinary life, free and unburdened. Yet, he was born into the imperial family, in the Dragon-Teng Empire, one of the Seven Martial Arts Sacred Lands of the Divine Martial Continent, as the Seventh Prince.

"Seventh Prince, His Majesty has summoned you. The National Master has returned and wishes for you to pay your respects," a guard called from outside the room, with no hint of respect in his tone.

"Understood, you may leave," came a calm voice from inside. The guard rolled his eyes, leaving without another word.

In the center of the room stood a young man in a purple robe. He wasn't particularly strong-looking, and had a somewhat frail appearance. His handsome face, framed by thick, long hair, gave him an air of elegance. This was Tianfan, the Seventh Prince of the Dragon-Teng Empire, born without the ability to cultivate. For the past twenty years, he had been subjected to cold stares and disdain within the empire.

At that moment, Tianfan was reading a book. He frowned lightly at the guard's message, set down the "On the Path of the Dao," and walked outside.

When he arrived at the grand hall, he saw his father, the Emperor Long Aotian, clad in golden dragon robes, smiling as he conversed with an elderly figure. Three young men in purple-gold robes stood nearby, their lithe bodies radiating energy. Two of them were already at the early stages of the Cloud Heaven realm, which, although still at the beginning phase, made them stand out.

The cultivation levels in the Divine Martial Continent were divided into five stages: Foundation Establishment, Spirit Consolidation, Cloud Heaven, Primal Chaos, and Immortal Ascension. Long Aotian had already reached the peak of Primal Chaos.

"Greetings, Father Emperor! Greetings, National Master!" Tianfan said, bowing politely to the two men, his tone neutral.

Long Aotian scanned him briefly, offering no response. Among the three princes, two wore expressions of obvious disdain. One of them gave Tianfan a playful smile.

"Alright, the reason I called you here today is twofold. First, to meet the National Master, and secondly, to prepare for the ancestral memorial ceremony in a few days. Make sure to get ready," Long Aotian announced.

"Yes, Father Emperor!" the princes replied respectfully. The First Prince Long Batian cast a disdainful glance at Tianfan, while the Second Prince Long Youtian also shot him a condescending look.

"Father Emperor, we don't need to bring him. It would be disrespectful to our ancestors," Long Batian interjected, his voice filled with disdain.

"No, I disagree! Seventh Brother should come with us. We are brothers, don't speak like that!" the youngest Prince, Long Yuyun, protested, his tone urgent.

"Little Eight, stop associating that waste with us. It's embarrassing!" Long Batian retorted.

"Do you know why he's just Tianfan and not Long Tianfan? Because he doesn't deserve the surname 'Long'!" Long Youtian added, dripping with sarcasm.

"Enough!" Tianfan wanted to speak, but he was stopped by a gentle gesture from Long Yuyun. Tianfan gave him a faint smile, signaling him not to argue with them.

Although he was born into the Dragon-Teng Empire, he had been unable to cultivate since birth. As such, he was doomed to be disconnected from the "Long" family legacy, bound by many constraints. Even his biological father, Long Aotian, looked down on him.

Tianfan had chosen his own name. "Tianfan" symbolized his desire to live a simple life in an ordinary family, free from the weight of the "Dragon" name.

He looked at the two princes with indifference. If he could cultivate, he would make them regret their arrogance.

"Enough, do as I said," Long Aotian said, not even looking at Tianfan. In his eyes, Tianfan had never existed.

Three days later, five golden iron war chariots soared into the sky from the Dragon-Teng Empire.

"Farewell to the Emperor, National Master, and the Princes and Princesses! Dragon-Teng is invincible!" The roar of the crowd echoed, as thousands of iron riders raised their weapons high, their voices shaking the heavens.

"Boom…"The five war chariots shot upward, their bright radiance blinding, disappearing into the sky in the blink of an eye.

Tianfan thought to himself, if he could leave forever, it would certainly be a welcome escape.

As the chariots descended, Tianfan felt an odd sensation as they neared an ancient forest ahead. Every time he came here, he felt the same inexplicable pull, as if something in the forest was calling to him.

Ahead, a large altar stood, a massive statue of a majestic middle-aged man holding a halberd. His gaze was piercing, exuding an aura of dominance as though he ruled the world. Although it was only a stone statue, it radiated the true essence of imperial power.

Long Aotian, along with a few others, knelt before the altar, offering their respects. The old National Master didn't kneel but bowed solemnly in deep respect. He revered the man in the statue. In the dark and chaotic times of the past, it was not only strength but extraordinary wisdom that had allowed him to create such a vast martial arts empire.

"The Yin and Yang give birth to life, following Heaven's will. The immortal and divine have no soul. The gates of rebirth lead to the Six Realms of Ultimate Joy, transcending the mortal world…"

The group sat cross-legged before the altar, solemnly chanting a sacred scripture, their voices resonating in the air. A divine and peaceful aura filled the surroundings, purifying the soul.

When everything fell silent, the scriptures vanished, and Long Aotian rose, bowing once again to the statue. The princes also stood, their expressions serious. Even the usually mischievous Princess Long Yueying stood quietly by their side.

"This scripture is remarkable, truly extraordinary…"

The old National Master commented, his tone solemn as he finished observing the ceremony.

"Would you like to study it, National Master? I can give it to you," Long Aotian offered.

The National Master looked at him, his gaze shifting past the altar and towards the fog-covered forest ahead. "Are you ready?" he asked, his tone still detached.

Long Aotian nodded solemnly, his gaze turning towards the dense mist of the forest.

Tianfan followed, and the strange feeling grew stronger. The mist-covered magical forest ahead seemed to pulse with mysterious energy, as if something within was calling to him.