Today, golden goblets of red wine accompany song and dance; tomorrow, iron chains may bind you as a condemned prisoner. Today’s emperor may well become tomorrow’s defeated general, a ghost beneath the blade. Today’s bandit—who can say he won’t don the imperial robe tomorrow, facing south as a sovereign?

On this magical continent, anything is possible!

Just like any other continent or planet, beyond the imperial court, there are also outcasts, wanderers, and people of the jianghu. Where there is a jianghu, there are both sides—good and evil, righteous and wicked.

Good and evil cannot coexist, and their struggles are endless. Through these long conflicts, each side has developed its own systems, techniques, and codes of conduct—sometimes clashing with earth-shattering force, sometimes coexisting in peace for centuries.

Such is the wonder of the world.

Regardless of good or evil, in the eyes of ordinary people, they all share a common name: martial artists!

Heroes use martial strength to defy the law; this is true in any world. The word “martial” encompasses countless meanings. But what people remember most is simply: violence!

A single word leads to bloodshed within seven steps—that is martial. Brandishing a blade on horseback, achieving glory—that is martial. Roaming the jianghu, killing and looting—that is martial...

Martial arts are colorful, but also full of strife.

Besides humans, this world also has some mysterious races, such as the Three Star Holy Clans of Heaven, Earth, and Man. It’s said that many years ago, they too were glorious, possessing unique innate abilities, and once contended with humans for supremacy. But long, long ago, they fell into decline.

Perhaps there are other races, but those are even more elusive than legends...

At least, in his previous life, William Carter had seen only a handful, and all were low-level Holy Clans. As for the higher ones, he had never seen a single one. Who knows if they are extinct or simply hiding somewhere...

As for human martial artists, whether righteous or evil, all forms—fingers, palms, legs, feet, fists, blades, swords, and so on—progress through the ranks of Disciple, Warrior, Practitioner, Master, Grandmaster, Venerable, King, Emperor, Lord, Saint... and the highest of all, Supreme!

Eleven ranks in total, each divided into nine grades.

Fist and palm techniques are collectively called martial arts. Martial Disciple, Martial Warrior, Martial Practitioner, Martial Master, Martial Grandmaster, Martial Venerable, Martial King, Martial Emperor, Martial Lord, Martial Saint.

For the blade path, it’s Blade Disciple, Blade Warrior... Blade Saint!

Only the sword path is different: at the emperor level, the title is “Emperor” instead of “King”; this was decreed by the first Nine Tribulations Sword Master, though no one knows why.

At the Saint level, one is already at the pinnacle of the world! For throughout history, those who have become Supreme are exceedingly rare! One could say, Supreme is a legend! It is said that at the Supreme level, one can summon wind and rain, soar the skies, move mountains, fill seas, and shatter the void!

But legends are just legends. No one has ever seen it with their own eyes! Even the Saint level is as elusive as a dragon—rarely seen.

For countless years, only the Emperor level has ruled the world! Reigning over all lands!

The place where William Carter now resides, Tianwai Tower, is in the Lower Three Heavens. Among the Nine Heavens Continent, it is the only place where secular imperial power rules this space. In the Lower Three Heavens, imperial power is absolute authority.

“You three, come in.” Dressed in purple robes, James Bennett stood at the entrance of the Purple Bamboo Garden, his expression serene and otherworldly. When he saw the wound on William Carter’s head, he merely frowned slightly before returning to his usual untroubled demeanor.

“Master, my two junior brothers were sparring and accidentally injured William Carter this time—he’s lost quite a bit of blood. I hope you can grant him some spiritual medicine to ease his pain,” Charles Stone said urgently, his face and eyes full of concern.

His words were filled with care for his junior brother, with no hint of any other meaning, nor did he deliberately emphasize any sensitive phrases. Yet, this sentence was nothing less than a sharp jab at Henry Turner in front of James Bennett!

“It’s nothing,” James Bennett replied indifferently, whether he didn’t notice or simply didn’t care. “It’s good for young people to suffer some injuries and hardships. As long as it’s not damaging the tendons or endangering life, why be so anxious?”

Looking at the gentle and refined face before him, William Carter felt a warmth and closeness rise from his heart. An impulse surged within him—he almost wanted to rush forward and embrace him!

Master... both teacher and father, truly so. As an orphan, William Carter was raised by James Bennett from childhood. In his heart, his master was the most respected and important person in his life. No matter what achievements he might attain in the future—even when he became a Martial Venerable—his master would always be his source of warmth.

His master seemed harmless and indifferent to the world, but in truth, nothing escaped his notice, and his meticulous mind was beyond anyone’s imagination.

James Bennett, who never showed off or revealed his strength, possessed power that no one could fathom.

William Carter still remembered, four years later, during a great calamity at Tianwai Tower, the sight of James Bennett in white robes, sword in hand, moving freely through raging flames! Countless enemies fell screaming beneath his sword. He could have easily broken out, but he chose to stay, holding his ground until the sect was reduced to ashes.