Chapter 1: Wrong Script!

At the foot of Broadridge Mountain, one of the renowned contemporary sacred grounds of martial arts in Central Heaven Province, the Heavenly Domain of the Eight Extremes World.

Eric Dawson wore a white robe with a blue outer garment, the black trim on the robe marking him as a core disciple of the Guangcheng Mountain lineage.

Opposite him stood a young man in yellow, his face full of indignation: “Eric Dawson, isn’t it just because you have a good father?”

Eric Dawson’s expression was blank: “What did you just call me? If you’ve got the guts, say it again.”

“I’ll say it, what’s there to be afraid of? Isn’t it just because you have a good father?”

Eric Dawson looked at him, then suddenly broke into a smile: “Very good, that’s the line I like hearing the most.”

The young man in yellow was dumbfounded.

It took him a while to recover, and then, embarrassed and angry, he threw caution to the wind and lunged at Eric Dawson.

Eric Dawson said carelessly, “Go easy, don’t kill him.”

The young man in yellow froze, then his whole body went numb, the scene before his eyes shifted, and after a moment he realized someone had silently grabbed him by the waist and lifted him into the air!

A burly man appeared in front of Eric Dawson, holding the young man in yellow aloft with one hand, as if he were picking up a child.

The burly man smiled amiably and said, “Young master, please go ahead.”

Eric Dawson nodded, clasped his hands behind his back, and turned to leave at a leisurely pace.

The burly man chuckled, carrying the young man in yellow away with one hand, while the latter could only let out muffled cries.

Eric Dawson entered his own sect’s gate, walking along the path. The teasing look on his face had vanished, his gaze was straight ahead, his expression calm.

He now appeared to be the very picture of composure and steadiness.

But in truth, what that expression really meant was...

Utter confusion!

“This script isn’t right.” Eric Dawson muttered to himself. As a member of the transmigrator army, there was definitely something wrong with the way he’d started out.

The first time he transmigrated, he landed in a world where martial civilization flourished, and crashed straight into the Divine Palace’s library, which contained a vast collection of the world’s classics.

But soon after, a great catastrophe struck, and even the Divine Palace was destroyed.

Then, unbelievably, he transmigrated a second time—his soul arriving in the same world, but in an era countless years later.

People here were rediscovering the remnants left after the destruction, and martial civilization was starting anew, still in the early stages of a new generation’s development.

With his mind packed full of Divine Palace manuals and secrets, transmigrating a second time into this era was like someone used to playing on hell difficulty suddenly being thrown into easy mode.

It was just too good to be true!

The only problem was, after the second transmigration, the original owner of this body had left behind a mess.

“Young master, everything you asked to be collected is ready.” The burly man had caught up again at this point. “There’s also news about the whereabouts of the Liyan True Fire seed.”

Eric Dawson slowed his pace a little. “That’s rare. Have you found its exact location?”

“Northeast of Zhenlong Abyss. We’re narrowing down the area, and the men below will have more precise news soon.” The burly man grinned honestly.

Eric Dawson nodded in satisfaction. “Very good, very good.”

Those who called him “young master” instead of “senior brother” or “junior brother” were all members of the Yan family. His own father was not only a high-ranking elder in the sect, but also the current patriarch of the Yan family—a renowned and powerful clan across the entire continent.

If Eric Dawson wanted anything, he just had to make a list, and people would take care of it for him.

In short, the current Eric Dawson had a prestigious family, an awesome father, was a genius himself, and everything was going smoothly.

But... something still felt off?

“Young master, there’s one more thing...” The burly man beside him was about to say something else, but suddenly swallowed his words.

A middle-aged man with a powerful presence was approaching. With every step he took, it seemed as if the very space around him trembled.

As he drew near, Eric Dawson greeted him. The middle-aged man smiled and said, “It’s only been a few days, and Nephew Yan, your cultivation has already improved again.”

Eric Dawson replied with a smile, “Diligence leads to skill, play leads to waste—I dare not slack off.”