After finishing breakfast, Ethan Brooks stood up, pointed to the small path leading into the distance, waved goodbye to the old man, and before leaving, gave him a deep bow.

An hour later, he arrived at a small town. Because he looked ordinary and wore the current mainland attire, no one paid any attention to him.

At this moment, Ethan Brooks felt both joy and worry—joy because his brand new life was about to begin, worry because he did not understand the language spoken on the continent now.

Ethan Brooks was surprised to find that, in addition to black-haired, black-eyed people like himself, there were also residents with blond hair and blue eyes, as well as red-haired, blue-eyed, and blue-haired, black-eyed people...

“It seems that too much has happened in these ten thousand years. I must integrate into this society as quickly as possible.”

Suddenly, Ethan Brooks felt a chill down his spine, a coldness in his heart. Relying on his intuition, he knew that a master was watching him.

Not far behind him, an elderly Taoist of about fifty shook his head and sighed, “Strange, I clearly sensed a peculiar aura on this young man just now. How could it disappear upon closer inspection?”

Only after the old Taoist had walked far away did Ethan Brooks dare to look back. All he saw was a back view—calm and otherworldly, ethereal like an immortal.

Ethan Brooks recalled what his father had told him: “Ethan Brooks, remember, anyone who can see through the flow of our family’s internal energy is not simple. They are either true martial arts masters or reclusive cultivators. You must be especially careful!”

“He’s a cultivator! Aren’t such people rarely seen in the mortal world?” Ethan Brooks knew deeply how terrifying these people were; only martial artists with profound cultivation would dare to oppose them.

His father’s words still echoed in his ears: “…to reshape the physical body, solidify the primordial spirit, and reach the state of living as long as heaven and earth, shining alongside the sun and moon—this is the ultimate goal of cultivation, the realm of immortality. The path we martial artists take is to defy the heavens and refine ourselves, striving to reach the legendary Immortal Martial Realm. In most people’s eyes, the path of the martial artist is inferior to that of the cultivator, but…”

His father did not continue, but Ethan Brooks already understood. Martial artists were not necessarily unable to contend with cultivators, for his father himself was the best example—even those who had achieved success in cultivation treated him as an equal.

Thinking of this, Ethan Brooks was moved. “I wonder if Father ultimately stepped into the Immortal Martial Realm. If he did… perhaps there is still a day when father and son will meet again.”

But when he thought of the forest of divine and demonic tombstones in that cemetery, a wave of panic swept through his heart.

“If Father entered the Immortal Martial Realm, I’m afraid even he could hardly escape…”

He felt a wave of desolation.

People bustled back and forth on the street, the cries of vendors rising and falling, lively and bustling, but Ethan Brooks felt incomparably lonely. He felt like an abandoned child of this world, mercilessly cast aside by history.

“I was always ordinary. Since I have already died, why, after so many ages, have I been made to crawl out of the divine tomb again?”

A large mass of dark clouds drifted across the sky, and the daylight immediately dimmed.

“Boom!”

After a clap of thunder, the shops on both sides of the street hurriedly closed their doors, and the pedestrians rushed away. In no time, the street was deserted, leaving him standing alone in the middle of the road.

After the flashes of lightning and peals of thunder, a torrential rain poured down. The icy rain soaked through Ethan Brooks’s clothes. He felt a chill all over, but what was even colder was his heart, filled with an incomparable desolation.

“The world is vast, but where is my home?”

Rain fell in sheets between heaven and earth. A solitary figure wandered aimlessly down the street, letting the wild raindrops beat against him.

Ten thousand years ago, Ethan Brooks was born into a martial arts family and was extremely talented in martial cultivation, admired by all. However, a nightmare began later—his family’s secret martial art regressed instead of progressing, and he fell from the second heaven’s Great Perfection stage to the first heaven’s intermediate stage.

At that time, his father already stood at the pinnacle of martial arts. Such a family naturally attracted attention from all sides, and the pressure Ethan Brooks faced was imaginable.

During those dark days, cold ridicule and biting sarcasm… pressure from all directions left him at a loss.

However, there was one person who always believed that one day he would shine brilliantly. Thinking of “her,” Ethan Brooks felt a wave of sorrow and unspeakable pain surged in his heart.

“Olivia Brooks, do you know? My greatest regret is not saying those three words to you back then: ‘I love you.’”

Time passes easily, and beauty fades quickly.

Olivia Brooks was the eternal pain in Ethan Brooks’s heart, the regret of his life.

Disoriented, Ethan Brooks stumbled into a small alley, feeling unbearable pain in his chest, a metallic taste rising from his abdomen.

“Wah—”

He opened his mouth and spat out a mouthful of fresh blood, collapsing into the muddy water.

“Olivia Brooks…” His vision went black, and he lost consciousness.

Chapter Two: Stunning

When Ethan Brooks opened his eyes again, he found himself lying on a wooden bed. The soft bedding made him feel warm and comfortable.

The sky was already dark, but the rain was still falling. An oil lamp was lit in the room, casting a gentle light.

The patter of rain, the soft bedding, the gentle light—all of it made Ethan Brooks feel as if he had returned home, his heart filled with warmth.