Ten thousand years had already passed, and in human history, no empire had ever lasted that long.

When humanity officially stepped out from its home planet and entered the grand era of interstellar exploration and development, the First Galactic Federation, which existed as a loose alliance, only lasted two thousand years before falling apart.

Afterward, to confront formidable enemies from the depths of the stars and to deal with the separatist waves among the human race itself, the Second Galactic Federation was officially established. This time, it lasted less than a thousand years before collapsing again, and the Empire was founded upon the ruins of the Second Galactic Federation.

Ten thousand years is too long—a span in which the Empire may have long since vanished into the dust of history.

No matter what, the identity of the Empire now brought him more danger than convenience. Only the Dragon Rider’s badge was somewhat special; the runes on it were said to be the work of the People of the Ruins, from an age long past, and there were few in the entire star domain who could understand them.

Making thorough preparations, he climbed upward along the passageway. After a long while, he finally neared the cave entrance. Using up the last of his strength, he finally crawled out of the opening and immediately collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.

A body that had been dormant for over ten thousand years was simply too weak.

Before he could recover even a little, a girl suddenly appeared in his field of vision. Her clothing was strange and primitive, her face full of anxiety as she shouted at him and waved frantically, but he couldn’t understand a single word she said.

Only then did he suddenly feel a chill penetrate to his bones, his hair standing on end. This was his innate sense for danger, though it had become much duller due to his long dormancy.

Almost instantly, he sprang up, reaching instinctively for his waist to draw his sword and strike behind him. But his hand found nothing—only then did he remember that the Dragon Fang, which had accompanied him for many years, had already crumbled to dust.

Even without a weapon, he did not panic. He pushed off with his feet, dodging to the side. But the moment he touched the ground, his legs suddenly gave out—he couldn’t muster any strength at all. Immediately, he felt as if his back had been struck by a meteor; with a loud bang, his whole body was sent flying.

It was only as he soared through the air that he finally saw where he was.

This was a jungle, but the vegetation was extraordinarily tall. Each massive tree had a trunk over ten meters in diameter, and in the distance, there seemed to be even larger ancient trees, their canopies blocking out the sky and sun. The ground was covered in long grass, the blades taller than a person’s head—so much so that it was hard to tell whether they were grass or trees.

The cave entrance he had crawled out of was below him. In this environment, where everything was so oversized, it looked just like an ant hole—utterly inconspicuous.

As he plummeted toward the ground, the earth suddenly began to shake. Amid a thunderous roar, the ground collapsed layer by layer, and in an instant, a bottomless pit appeared.

At that moment, the girl’s face suddenly appeared before his eyes, and then his whole body seemed to be pulled sideways, flying through the air.

His vision went black, and he lost consciousness.

……

“Has he woken up?”

“Seems like not yet.”

“Keep a close eye on him. There have been a lot of strange things happening lately—he might have been sent by the Poison Sting.”

“No way, I’ve never seen him in the Poison Sting tribe.”

“Who knows if the Poison Sting tribe has recruited new hunters. In any case, keep a close watch on him!”

A series of conversations entered his ears and were stored in his memory, only to be recalled as his consciousness slowly returned.

Eleanor Clark opened his eyes slightly, observing his surroundings through a narrow slit while using a special technique to move his body.

This was a secret art passed down in the Imperial Household, allowing one to activate their joints through subtle vibrations without causing any visible movement, thereby reactivating bodily functions and regaining some mobility.

This “Thread” secret art was originally created so that members of the Imperial Household could regain a bit of movement in any absolutely disadvantageous situation, enabling them to resist or end their own lives.

He carefully controlled the operation of the secret art, activating his body bit by bit. He didn’t sense any restrictive spells on his body, which was a good thing.

The bad news was that after such a long period of dormancy, his body was in an extremely weakened state. If he returned to the Empire now, he probably couldn’t even defeat an ordinary foot soldier in the Imperial Guard.

He was lying in what looked like a very crude hut—he wasn’t even sure it could be called a house. It was just a few naturally curved branches lashed together with vines, topped with huge grass leaves as a roof.

By the Empire’s standards, this wouldn’t even count as a shack.

However, after years of campaigning, his footsteps had taken him across every star domain, and he had seen and endured all kinds of harsh environments—this was far from the worst.

At that moment, light footsteps sounded outside the door, heading straight toward him. He immediately slowed his breathing, closed his eyes, and pretended to still be unconscious.

“Ah, you’re awake?”

Chapter Two: Primitive

This exclamation nearly made Eleanor Clark jump up—not only because he inexplicably understood her words, but also because his pretense had been seen through at a glance.

Fortunately, his self-control was exceptional—the more dangerous the situation, the calmer he became. He could tell there was no malice in her voice; in fact, it even sounded a bit delighted. So he slowly opened his eyes and gradually turned his head to look in the direction of the voice.