The night had fallen, and the world seemed to quiet under the starlit sky. Logan sat alone on the roof of the old woman's house, his eyes gazing at the endless expanse above. His heart was heavy, the loss of his grandmother still fresh, but his mind was focused on the road ahead. He had spent twelve long years training, learning the ways of the world, and now, he was finally ready.
"There goes Granny, huh?" Logan thought, the weight of her passing settling in. "I can't prolong someone's life at this point since I can't awaken my bloodline. But I've trained for twelve years, so now I know. I can travel through the universe without worry. I'll head to another planet."
As he sat there, Logan couldn't shake the thought that the journey ahead would be long. There were countless challenges to face, but now, he was stronger. His mind was sharp, and his body prepared. There was no reason to hesitate.
The morning arrived, and with it, clarity. Logan knew what needed to be done.
"If I want to travel through the dimensions, I need the world principles of almost every realm. I have to become strong enough to face a god. I almost reached Hell in my previous regression. I know what steps I need to take to reach it again."
But even now, after everything, he was still too weak. "I guess I'll start heading out. I've already obtained the principle of this world, so there's no turning back now."
Logan knew the road ahead would be filled with dangers. A Googol number of planets spread across the Lower Realm. If he wanted to be powerful enough to face a god, he'd have to collect the world principles from all of them. That meant defeating the strongest beings on each planet—an almost impossible task.
"The difficulty will only rise as I ascend through the realms," he reflected. "There are three realms: Lower, Middle, and Upper. Strength governs them all, increasing as you go from one to the next. No being from a higher realm will come to bully those of the Lower Realm unless they possess a strong principle. That's why the angels and devils didn't come after me when they killed my parents."
Logan sighed, turning his gaze toward the horizon. "Since I need to reach the Middle Realm in three years, I have to collect two-thirds of the principles from the Googol planets in the Lower Realm. That's the number of planets here. It's going to take a lot of time, but I have no choice."
"It won't be too difficult," he reassured himself. "After all, this is the only Lower Realm. But I need to build my army to manage it after I leave for the Middle Realm. First, I'll go to Steward Zhou's planet. He'll be my substitute when I'm gone, and he can help me collect the principles too."
With determination, Logan set off toward Zhou's planet. He knew he could handle any danger, for he was confident in his strength. Zhou, after all, was a master of manipulation, and Logan wasn't about to give him any time to react before making his move.
As he arrived on Zhou's planet, Logan's eyes immediately sought out the final competition—the one Zhou was part of. The grand arena was filled with tension as the final battle was about to begin: a fight for the leadership of the Demonic Sect. Zhou stood at the center, facing off against the Demonic Sect Master, both ready to clash.
In the blink of an eye, the battle erupted. Zhou and the Demonic Sect Master exchanged powerful blows, their fists moving at an impossible speed. The sound of their combat echoed across the arena, shaking the very air around them. Each blow was stronger than the last, and the audience could only watch in awe as the two warriors clashed.
"Over 700 blows within ten minutes," Logan observed, his eyes focused intently on the battle. "These are blows with such power that they're capable of creating a wind vortex with every strike. But even they're slowing down now."
It was true—the intensity of the battle had begun to wane. The strength of each blow was no longer as devastating as before, and both warriors knew it. They could no longer defeat each other in such a manner. And so, they stepped back, taking a moment to catch their breath, preparing for the final clash.
Zhou, calm and composed as always, looked toward the Demonic Sect Master. "Why don't we end this with one final attack, using all our remaining strength?" he suggested, his voice cold but confident.
The Demonic Sect Master, never one to back down, nodded in agreement. The stage was set for the final confrontation.
Logan, sensing the overwhelming energies of both warriors, understood the risk. "If they release their final attacks, the audience and the commentators will be caught in the crossfire. They'll either be severely injured or die."
Without hesitation, Logan formed a protective barrier around the arena, ensuring no one would be harmed by the destructive power of the attack.
In an instant, both Zhou and the Demonic Sect Master unleashed their ultimate moves. The Demonic Sect Master's attack, "Great Demonic Hand," collided with Zhou's "Quilin's Foot," and the force of their blows sent shockwaves through the arena. A storm of wind and dust engulfed the stage, obscuring the outcome from view.
When the dust finally settled, the arena fell silent. The audience stared in shock as the Demonic Sect Master lay crushed, defeated, but Zhou was gravely injured. Both combatants had pushed themselves to the limit, and the result was a hard-won victory at great cost.
Logan quickly dispelled the barrier, rushing to Zhou's side. As he approached, he couldn't help but mock, "I didn't expect you to be like this... miserable."
Zhou, barely conscious, managed to muster a response. "Who the fuck are yo—" But before he could finish his sentence, his body gave out, and he lost consciousness.
End of Chapter 2.