At that time, it almost seemed normal—more children being born, families growing faster than ever. Maybe this wasn't a bad thing? A world brimming with life had a certain beauty to it, even in its chaos.
But what the humans of Earth didn't understand—what Charlie's young perspective as a boy in a small town outside Minot had hidden from him—was the vastness of the universe at play. Humans were frogs at the bottom of a well, unaware of the enormity of the cultivation world that stretched far beyond their grasp.
When the earthquake had rocked the Earth, splitting open land and reshaping its surface, it hadn't just been a cataclysm for those living there. To the universe beyond, it had been a beacon. Mana had surged again, expanding Earth's potential, and in doing so, it announced the planet's existence to those who sought new opportunities. Another world had ripened, ready for the taking.
Rolling in the warm darkness of his mother's womb, Charlie sighed inwardly. He thought about the past, about how close he had been to stepping onto the grand stage of the universe. He had seen enough to know how vast and dangerous it was.
Earth wasn't isolated in this vast universe. The Red Brothers, a coalition founded on Orc culture, were one of the first to take notice. Their brutal philosophy of Irshan—a term loosely translated as With Honor—was their guiding creed. While Orcs formed the backbone of their forces, they also welcomed other races who could survive their trials and abide by their code. Their honor wasn't kindness; it was brutal, tied to contracts and strength, and tempered by their savage origins.
Their proximity to Earth only added to the danger. One of their outposts bordered Earth's newly expanded territory, ensuring they would have a vested interest in whatever opportunities the planet provided.
But the Red Brothers didn't act alone. They came as part of a contract orchestrated by the Ashes Empire, a vast human-ruled empire spanning countless worlds. Formed from humanity's scattered remnants who had left Earth behind long ago, the Ashes Empire had thrived through ingenuity and adaptability. Their intervention wasn't born of altruism; it was a calculated act, a gamble to sow the seeds of karma with Earth's people.
When the Ashes Empire detected Earth's awakening, they acted swiftly, sending pillars inscribed with the foundational techniques of cultivation and the secrets of Soul Bonding. Unlike any other race, humanity had one unique advantage: the ability to form Soul Bonds with beasts. This bond allowed humans to inherit the strengths of their beasts—speed, strength, heightened senses, and more. Soul Bonding wasn't merely a partnership; it was a merging of strengths, a way for humanity to compensate for its lack of bloodline advantages or innate cultivation talent.
Through Soul Bonding, humans could level the playing field against other races that possessed natural gifts. A bonded beast wasn't just a companion—it was an extension of the soul, a partner in growth, and the key to survival in a universe that favored the strong.
The Ashes Empire's gamble lay in giving Earth this knowledge, knowing the odds were slim. To help ensure Earth's survival, they hired the Red Brothers, whose infamous training methods ensured that those who sought strength would either earn it or be crushed trying.
Charlie's thoughts brushed against memories of the Red Brothers. Their training camps were relentless: bodies broken, minds pushed past their limits, leaving only the sharp and unyielding to survive. To them, strength was earned through struggle.
But even with this chance, Earth's survival was far from guaranteed.
One bordering region was dominated by the Goblin Kingdom, a chaotic force driven by cunning and opportunism. The goblins didn't just multiply rapidly; they thrived on destruction, carving out empires from the ashes of conquered worlds.
Another nearby power was the High Elves. Brilliant, disciplined, and unbearably pompous, they considered themselves the arbiters of order and culture. Smart, yes, but sticks so far shoved up their asses they were insufferable, even in their elegance.
The Dwarves and Gnomes, on the other hand, were simpler to understand. Together, they formed a joint kingdom-martial corporation that valued one thing above all else: profit. If there was something to be sold or traded, they would find a way to make it theirs and bleed every coin from it.
These races, and countless others, would see Earth as a pie to carve up—a resource to claim. But there was one thing stopping them: the Will of the World.
The Will ensured that powerful cultivators couldn't simply descend onto Earth and claim it as their own. Its laws were absolute—strong cultivators were barred from entry unless they were willing to pay an immense price, one few were willing to bear. The only option for these races was to send their youth, individuals who had yet to reach the higher realms of cultivation. These younger generations, armed with basic tools and knowledge, were tasked with claiming a foothold on Earth.
For the Ashes Empire, it was a long shot, but it was all they were willing to give. Earth was on its own.
Charlie turned his spiritual sense inward, brushing against the faint presence of his new mother. Her damaged dantian was weak, her cultivation stagnant and incomplete, but her connection to her bonded beast was still there, faint as it was. That thread stirred something deep within him, a pang of loss that ached in his soul.
He missed his own bond.
The memories of his past life, of the one who had fought beside him until the very end, burned in his mind. There was strength in that connection, a strength he hadn't truly appreciated until it was gone. The loss cut deep, a reminder of the cost of betrayal, the cost of trust misplaced.
One thing was certain, though: if those who had betrayed him in his past life still drew breath, there would be blood.
Some things were inevitable.