The world awoke to a shared memory—a lifetime of cultivation that was as vivid as any reality. Millions of people sat in stunned silence as they grappled with the aftermath of their experiences. Some had risen to power, touching the heavens with their strength. Others had fallen into obscurity, never breaking past the foundational realms. But all now faced the same truth: the world they returned to was devoid of spiritual energy.
Initially, there was euphoria. Social media platforms, news channels, and personal conversations overflowed with stories of victory and despair. Videos emerged of people recounting their battles, breakthroughs, and tribulations. The air buzzed with a collective realization—humanity had seen a world beyond their own limitations. But this hope quickly curdled into frustration.
"It's gone. The Qi is gone," someone posted on a popular forum.
"We can't cultivate without spiritual energy. What's the point of any of it?"
The thread exploded with replies, echoing sentiments of confusion, anger, and despair. Some clung to the hope that their cultivation knowledge could still be useful, while others descended into nihilism, unable to reconcile the loss of power they had tasted so vividly.
The world adapted swiftly, as it always did in the face of upheaval. Four alliances emerged as dominant factions, carving humanity into ideological camps that vied for control of this new reality. The Dragon Alliance was the first to form, uniting those who had excelled in the dream world. With strict requirements for membership, they demanded proof of talent and strength, believing only the capable should hold power. Their rhetoric was clear: when spiritual energy returned, they would lead humanity to greatness.
In contrast, the Demon Alliance attracted those who had thrived on chaos and ambition in the dream. They embraced the darker paths of cultivation, reveling in memories of demonic arts and ruthless strategies. Even without spiritual Qi, their influence spread rapidly, their tactics often brutal but effective.
The Light Alliance, declaring themselves protectors of justice, sought to counter the Demon Alliance. Preaching unity and righteousness, they gained followers among those who believed in order and morality. But cracks quickly appeared in their facade. Internal struggles and hypocrisy plagued their ranks, and their self-proclaimed moral superiority began to ring hollow.
Lastly, the Neutral Alliance positioned itself apart from the others. Comprised of auxiliary professions—artisans, alchemists, merchants—they avoided conflict, focusing instead on stability and practicality. The alliance gained respect through its practicality, bolstered by the presence of an individual who had reached the Immortal Realm in the dream. Their expertise in auxiliary fields and their stance of non-aggression made them indispensable, even to the warring alliances.
Rumors began to swirl about the Immortal Realm cultivators. Three individuals had ascended to the Immortal Realm in the dream world, their memories granting them knowledge and authority that no others could rival. Two of them were in the Dragon Alliance, bolstering their claim to dominance. The third had aligned with the Neutral Alliance, cementing their position as untouchable despite their lack of aggression.
It was said that these cultivators were experimenting with their arts, testing whether their techniques could function without spiritual energy or adapt to a different power source. Their efforts were shrouded in secrecy, but the mere possibility of success set the world ablaze with speculation. If they could rediscover cultivation in any form, they would reshape the balance of power.
Liang Chen watched the chaos unfold with quiet detachment. From his small apartment, he monitored the news and online discussions, piecing together the landscape of this fractured world. The alliances had risen quickly, each carving out their sphere of influence. Governments scrambled to align with or resist them, unsure of how to handle the sudden power vacuum. Opportunistic leaders capitalized on the confusion, using it to push their own agendas.
Through it all, Liang Chen remained neutral. His mind lingered on the Dream Reincarnation System's promise. It would return in a year, bringing with it a method to create spiritual veins. That knowledge would be his path back to the cultivation world—a path he intended to walk alone, at least for now.
His gaze shifted to Yue Ling, who lay curled on his bed. Her white fur gleamed faintly under the dim light, and her golden eyes occasionally flickered with an intelligence that was hard to ignore. She had been with him through it all, both in the dream and in this reality. Her behavior had changed subtly since their return. There were moments when she seemed almost too aware, her movements precise in a way that went beyond instinct. Liang Chen kept these observations to himself, unsure of what they meant.
Despite his neutrality, Liang Chen couldn't ignore the weight of the alliances' presence. The Dragon Alliance's ambition was palpable, their rhetoric a clear sign of their intent to dominate. The Neutral Alliance, though quiet, held a power that no one could overlook. Their Immortal Realm cultivator gave them an air of authority, and their focus on auxiliary professions ensured that they would remain indispensable when—if—spiritual energy returned.
The rumors about the Immortal Realm cultivators intrigued him. While others speculated wildly about their experiments, Liang Chen had a clearer perspective. He understood the complexity of cultivation, the layers of insight required to even attempt such feats. If anyone could find a way to adapt cultivation arts to Earth's barren state, it would be them. But he also knew the dangers of ambition, the risk of overreaching and collapsing under one's own arrogance.
Liang Chen leaned back in his chair, his thoughts heavy. The world was changing rapidly, its direction uncertain. The alliances were laying the groundwork for future power struggles, their foundations both ideological and practical. And while humanity scrambled to make sense of their loss, Liang Chen focused on his own path.
"I'll rise again," he murmured to himself, his voice steady. "No matter what it takes."
Yue Ling lifted her head, her golden eyes meeting his as if she understood.
Liang Chen reached out to scratch behind her ears, a small smile tugging at his lips. For now, he would wait. The storm would come soon enough, and when it did, he would be ready.