A stirring, moving, humorous, and endearing tale of a grassroots rise. The journey of a cheerful young man who demands quality over quantity in material things.

General Xuanwei, having offended the great general Spencer, was sentenced to execution along with his entire household. In the face of disaster, the young boy Adam Spencer and the girl Lily Spencer escaped from the mansion and depended on each other for survival. Adam Spencer, together with Lily Spencer, enlisted in the army, thus beginning a series of fantastical adventures.

Considered by the Messenger of Light to be the "Son of the King of the Underworld," Adam Spencer was falsely accused by General Spencer at birth, leading to the massacre of his entire family. After escaping this calamity, he wandered the northern borders of the Tang Empire, eventually becoming a low-ranking soldier defending the frontier in a small town in the Western Regions. Later, taking advantage of the Tang Empire's "Academy" recruitment, he leapt to become the thirteenth disciple of the "Master," earning the respectful title "Mr. Thirteen" from the world. At the same time, he was also the grandnephew of the Tang Empire's State Preceptor and was responsible for activating the "Astonishing Divine Formation" in Chang'an. During his "internship" at the Academy's frontier, he befriended the "Sage of Calligraphy"'s top disciple, the "Book Maniac" Grace Bennett; the two became close friends and developed feelings for each other. In the "Unknown Land" of the Demon Sect, he broke through the "Dongxuan" realm and comprehended the "Vast Sword" intent of his junior uncle. Because of the presence of his maid Lily Spencer, he severed his romantic ties with Grace Bennett...

========================

Volume One: The Empire at Dawn

Beginning

A long, long time ago, there were many unknown lands, and in those unknown lands, there were many unknown people.

In the distance over the twilight wasteland hung a fireball, its red rays spreading slowly and resolutely like a massive flame. Moss, newly grown after the snow melted on the plains, was smeared everywhere like scars after a burn. All around was quiet, with only the occasional sound of an eagle's cry from above or the distant thumping of antelopes leaping.

Three people appeared on the empty plain. They gathered under a small, rare tree on the wasteland, not greeting each other, but instead, in tacit understanding, all lowered their heads at the same time, as if there was something very interesting under the tree worth careful study and contemplation.

Two colonies of ants were fighting over the shallow brown roots exposed in the cold earth. Perhaps because such a perfect home as these roots was hard to find again on this wasteland, the war was especially fierce. In a short while, thousands of ant corpses remained, which should have been a bloody and tragic sight, but in reality, it was just a patch of tiny black dots.

The weather was still cold, yet the three people under the tree wore little clothing, seemingly unafraid of the chill. They watched intently, for who knows how long, until one of them suddenly spoke in a low voice: "The mundane ant kingdom—what of the Great Dao?"

The speaker was a youth with delicate features and a slender build, still a boy. He wore a thin, collarless robe of pale moonlight color, with a sheathed, slender wooden sword strapped to his back. His jet-black hair was neatly tied into a topknot, pierced by a wooden hairpin—it looked as if the hairpin might fall at any moment, yet it was as unshakable as a pine on a mountain.

"When the head abbot preached, I saw countless flying ants rise into the light."

The one who said this was a young monk, dressed in a tattered cotton robe. The stubble newly grown on his head was dark and sharp, just like the certainty and resolve in his expression and words.

The wooden sword youth shook his head and said, "Flying ants will still fall in the end; they can never reach the sky."

"If you always think this way, you will never truly understand what a Dao heart is." The young monk closed his eyes slightly, gazing at the ants below scattering broken limbs, and said, "I heard your temple master recently took in a new child with the surname Brooks. You should understand that a place like Zhishou Temple will never have only one genius like you."

The youth with the wooden sword raised his eyebrows and replied with a hint of mockery, "I've never understood how someone like you, who can't even let go of your own body, has the right to travel the world on behalf of Xuankong Temple."

The young monk ignored his provocation, looking at the anxious, scurrying ants at his feet, and said, "Ants can fly and fall, but they are better at climbing, better at forming the foundation for their companions, unafraid of sacrifice. One ant upon another—if there are enough, they can surely pile up into a mound that reaches the sky."

In the twilight sky came a sharp eagle's cry, full of panic and fear. It was unclear whether it feared these three strange people under the tree, the nonexistent giant ant mound reaching for the sky, or something else.

"I'm very scared."

The youth with the wooden sword suddenly spoke, his thin shoulders shrinking inward.

The young monk nodded in agreement, though his expression remained calm and resolute.

The third youth under the tree had a strong, sturdy body, wrapped in what looked like animal skins. His bare legs were as hard as stone, and beneath his rough skin, muscles full of explosive power could be clearly seen. He remained silent, not saying a word, but the goosebumps on his skin ultimately betrayed his true feelings at that moment.

The three young men under the tree came from the most mysterious places in the world, traveling the land on their masters' orders, like three dazzling stars crossing the mortal realm. Yet even they, today on this wasteland, felt a fear they could not resist.