Volume One: Martial World

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Chapter 1: I Am the Sect Leader

Dazed, dizzy, and surrounded by darkness—this was how William Clark felt right now. He couldn't even sense his own body or limbs, as if he had become a severely paralyzed patient.

He had no idea what had happened, nor could he remember what had caused him to end up like this.

But then, a sharp pain in his chest made his whole body jolt. Immediately after, he felt light and weightless, and then the impact on his back and the loud noise in his ears helped him regain a bit of consciousness.

Bang!

Compared to the earlier feeling of being trapped in a jar, William Clark now felt pain all over his body, but at least he could finally feel his own physical existence.

However, his physical condition didn't seem good. The pain was secondary; after a brief moment of clarity brought on by the pain, his mind began to blur again, and he felt he might soon slip back into darkness.

In his daze, a young woman in ancient dress looked at him with a complicated expression. In that instant, William Clark wondered: Am I dead? Could this fairy-like beauty be a reaper here to collect my soul? Such a strange and inexplicable thought flashed through his mind.

Before he could even mock himself for such a ridiculous idea, his vision went black again, and he once more fell into darkness...

Just as William Clark lost consciousness, someone suddenly stepped forward, raising a broadsword and slashing straight at William Clark. If not for the woman—whom William Clark had mistaken for a soul-collecting fairy—reaching out with her longsword and deflecting the blade, causing it to graze William Clark's arm and strike the ground, William Clark might have been sent to the underworld before he even realized what was happening.

"My senior brother is already unconscious. Are you really going to kill us all?" The woman in ancient dress held her sword horizontally, her brows arched with impressive momentum.

Even the man who had just sent William Clark flying with a palm strike and was about to finish him off was intimidated by her presence and dared not advance.

The two faced off for a moment before the man tossed his broadsword onto his shoulder and laughed, "Miss Ning, you must be joking. We're only here for a martial contest, not to take lives! Now that the outcome is decided, about the wager..."

"My senior brother and I will honor our agreement!"

With that, she sheathed her sword, walked over to the unconscious William Clark, looked at him with a conflicted expression for a moment, then sighed and helped him up, half-carrying and half-supporting him away.

From behind came a constant stream of voices: "This is the sect leader of Shushan Sect? What a loser!" "Brother Mr. Bolton knocked him out in just three moves—how can someone like that be a sect leader?" "Forget everything else, just losing the sect's territory in three moves—there's no reason for a sect like this to exist..." "It's a pity about that girl, though. Who would've thought such a small sect would have such a beauty..."

These words left her feeling complicated. She muttered under her breath, "Master... why did you pass the position of sect leader to senior brother?"—though she didn't know who she was really asking.

……

In his coma, William Clark felt terrible all over and kept dreaming. The dreams all seemed to be about the same person, but they were fragmented and disjointed, impossible to piece together.

The only thing he could remember clearly were some scenes of martial arts training, perhaps because of his past experiences.

Born at the tail end of the twentieth century and growing up at the turn of the millennium, William Clark's upbringing was no different from most young people.

Kindergarten, preschool, elementary school, middle school, even university—if nothing unexpected happened, he would have officially entered society after the summer to start a new chapter in life.

The only difference was that William Clark had loved martial arts since childhood, much to the helplessness of Mr. Clark, who had hoped his son would focus on academics and had even chosen the name "Wen" (meaning "literature") for him.

From a young age, William Clark learned everything he could—karate, tai chi, you name it. Even though most places only taught flashy moves that were useless in real fights, he still went out every few days to brawl and gain experience.

This only got worse after Mr. Clark, who had raised him single-handedly, died in a car accident. At one point, things almost got out of hand.

Fortunately, he eventually straightened out, got into university, and kept a low profile there, never getting into any more trouble.