The air was thick with the scent of decay and lingering Qi. Wei Feng moved through the crumbling ruins, his sharp gaze scanning the remnants of a fallen cultivator's legacy. Broken stone pillars, eerie floating embers, and faint traces of ancient power surrounded him. Here, within these tombs, countless treasures lay hidden—remnants of powerful beings who had perished long ago.
"Another dead man's dream," Wei Feng muttered to himself, stepping over a skeletal corpse long since robbed of its Qi.
His soul sense stretched outward, brushing against the fragments of worlds left behind within the Solar Bead. Most were useless—dried-up husks of their former grandeur. But then, deep within the core of the tomb, he felt it—a faint pulse, something unlike the rest.
With careful steps, he approached a stone altar half-buried under broken relics. At its center, a pill lay there. Not just any pill, but one that exuded an aura unlike anything he had ever encountered. Dense, divine, and terrifying. Its surface shimmered with shifting patterns—sometimes golden, sometimes dark, as though the heavens resided within it.
Wei Feng's fingers twitched. His instincts screamed at him that this was no ordinary treasure. But hesitation was a luxury he didn't have.
"A fortune like this…might just get me killed?" He smirked, grabbing the pill and slipping it into his robes.
Just as he turned to leave, space trembled. The tomb's walls cracked, Qi disturbances rippling through the air. They had found him.
A group of figures emerged from the shadows, their white robes gleaming like hypocritical banners of virtue. Righteous cultivators.
"Demonic scum!" one of them sneered. "Defiling the tombs of our continent's cultivators… you have no shame!"
Wei Feng chuckled, unfazed. "The dead have no need for treasures."
A blade slashed toward him, glowing with fury. He dodged, his own Qi flaring as he retaliated, sending a wave of destructive force at his attackers.
The battle was brutal. Zhuan Ming was strong, but he was outnumbered. His flesh was torn, his meridians burned from the righteous cultivators' divine techniques. He had plundered countless worlds, slaughtered legions of cultivators, and defied the natural order to reach this moment.
But before he could savor his obtained treasure, a sharp, piercing whistle cut through the air. Wei Feng's instincts screamed at him to move, but he was too slow. A blade of pure, righteous Qi sliced through his side, sending him sprawling to the ground. Blood pooled beneath him as he looked up to see a group of righteous cultivators descending from the sky, their faces twisted with hatred and determination.
"Wei Feng, you demonic scourge!" their leader, a tall man with a flowing white beard, bellowed. "Your reign of terror ends here!"
Wei Feng coughed, blood staining his lips as he struggled to rise. His body was battered, his Qi reserves depleted.
"I guess this is the end," he thought. "Oh well, I just wish I could have had a nice final meal. I bet that pill would have sold for a fortune."
"Today, you die!"
Wei Feng's smirk widened. He remembered that he had a mysterious card to play. With a swift, desperate motion, he raised the pill to his lips and swallowed it whole.
The effect was immediate. A surge of energy exploded within him, tearing through his meridians and flooding his body with power. But it was too much—far too much. His body convulsed, his vision blurred, and the last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was the horrified faces of his enemies.
When Wei Feng opened his eyes, he was no longer in the ruined Solar Soul world. He was lying on a hard, wooden bed in a small, dimly lit room. The air smelled of herbs and damp earth, and the faint sound of chatter drifted in from outside.
He tried to sit up, but his body felt weak—far weaker than he was used to. His hands, once calloused and scarred from countless battles, were now smooth and unmarked. He looked down at himself and realized with a start that this was not his body.
"What… what is this?" he muttered, his voice softer and higher-pitched than before.
A sudden pain shot through his head, and a flood of memories that were not his own assaulted his mind. He saw a young man—a weak, timid cultivator who had been bullied and ostracized by his sect. A failure.
Wei Feng clenched his fists, his dark eyes narrowing. "So, this is my new vessel," he said, his voice cold and calculating. "Pathetic. But… it will do."
He took a deep breath, focusing on the Qi within his new body. It was weak, barely a trickle compared to the ocean of power he had once commanded. But it was there. And with it, he could begin again.
As Wei Feng began to meditate, a voice echoed in his mind—a deep, ancient voice that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul.
"So, you've awakened," the voice said, its tone both amused and menacing. "I am the Qi Pill Ancestor, and you, my dear student, swallowed my pill."
Wei Feng's eyes snapped open, his expression hardening. "Who are you? What do you want?"
The voice chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down his spine. "I want to help you; I will give you some cultivation manuals that you can use to grow stronger."
Zhuan Ming's lips curled into a sneer. "Sure, old man, but do not think you can use me. I am Wei Feng, the Plunderer of Worlds. I bow to no one."
The Qi Pill Ancestor's laughter grew louder, filling his mind. "We will see about that. For now, focus on surviving. After all, this world is not kind to the weak."
Wei Feng's smile faded. "You think I don't know that."
Wei Feng rose from the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. He walked to a small mirror hanging on the wall and studied his new face. It was young, unremarkable, and bore none of the scars or hardness of his former self. But his dark eyes—still held the same cold, calculating gaze.
"Very well," he said, his voice low and steady. "If this is my new beginning, then I'll make the most of it. I'll grow stronger, reclaim my power, and crush anyone who stands in my way."
With that, he turned and walked out of the room, ready to face the challenges of this new world. The journey to the peak of power had begun anew, and Zhuan Ming would stop at nothing to reach it.