Time Sacred Palace stood before me, a monument to the unfathomable. It was both magnificent and terrifying, its ancient gates inscribed with the glyphs of an era that predated even my understanding. The Beginning Emperor had left it here, a reminder of his omnipotence and his vision for the Divine Realm’s prosperity. Yet to me, it was more than that.

It was my last hope.

I tightened my grip on the talisman in my hand, feeling its rough, uneven surface. It was no ordinary artifact. The Time Talisman, they called it—a fragment of the Beginning Emperor’s power, capable of bending the river of time itself. But like all great powers, it came with a price.

And yet, what choice did I have?

The years had been unkind to me, not in the way they wear down mortals, but in how they crush the spirit. I was Lin Fan, the Elderly Deity of the Ninth Azure Peak, a name that once struck fear into the hearts of all who dared to oppose me. My victories were countless, my name immortalized in legends. But what use was all of that now?

I had lost. Not to an equal, not even to someone I could respect, but to a schemer, a shadowy figure who used every dirty trick imaginable to bring me to my knees. The memory of my defeat was a bitter taste that refused to fade. It gnawed at me, keeping me awake in the endless nights of my immortality.

Immortality. What a cruel joke.

For centuries, I hadn’t slept, not truly. The higher realms demanded vigilance, cultivation, and strength beyond mortal comprehension. My body, refined to perfection, had transcended the needs of ordinary men. Food, water, even sleep—they were luxuries I no longer required. I hadn’t bathed in years, not because of neglect, but because my cultivation had purified me so thoroughly that waste was a foreign concept.

Yet here I was, standing before this cursed palace, feeling more mortal than ever.

My robes, once pristine and embroidered with the sigils of my clan, were now tattered. I hadn’t cared for appearances in a long time. What use was vanity when you lived among gods? My hair, silvered from the weight of eons, hung loosely around my face, unkempt and wild.

I looked down at my hands—calloused, steady, but trembling slightly. Was it fear? Or was it the sheer enormity of what I was about to do?

“Lin Fan,” I whispered to myself, my voice barely audible against the howling winds. “You’re either a genius or the greatest fool to ever walk this realm.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

The gates of the Time Sacred Palace groaned open, the sound echoing like a lament. I stepped inside, my every footfall reverberating through the vast, empty corridors. The walls pulsed with an eerie light, the glyphs shifting and rearranging themselves as if alive. This place wasn’t just a palace—it was a living entity, watching me, judging me.

I could feel its disdain.

“An Elderly Deity reduced to this,” I muttered bitterly, forcing myself to move forward. The talisman in my hand grew warmer, its energy reacting to the palace’s ancient mechanisms.

The journey through the palace felt endless, each step a reminder of what I was leaving behind. My cultivation, my status, my very identity as a deity—all of it would be stripped away. The Time Talisman wasn’t a gift; it was a gamble, a desperate plunge into the unknown.

Finally, I reached the altar. It was simple, almost underwhelming, a stark contrast to the grandeur of the palace. The talisman’s glow intensified, its energy spilling over like molten gold. I hesitated for a moment, the weight of my decision pressing down on me.

Was this truly what I wanted? To give up everything, to regress to a time when I was weak, vulnerable, insignificant?

But then I thought of my defeat, the sneering face of my nemesis, the hollow echo of my name in the halls of the Divine Realm.

Yes, this was what I wanted.

I placed the talisman on the altar, its energy consuming me instantly. The world dissolved into light and shadow, my body and soul unraveling in a torrent of pain and exhilaration. Memories flashed before my eyes—victories, losses, moments of triumph and despair.

And then, silence.

When I opened my eyes, the first thing I noticed was the air. It was lighter, fresher, untouched by the dense spiritual energy of the upper realms. I took a deep breath, my lungs filling with a crispness I hadn’t experienced in centuries.

I sat up slowly, my body aching in ways I hadn’t felt in eons. Gone was the strength of an Elderly Deity, the unyielding power that had once coursed through my veins. In its place was the body of a youth—slender, unrefined, and painfully mortal.

I stumbled to my feet, my legs trembling beneath me. My balance was off, my movements clumsy. It was as if I were learning to walk again. I looked down at myself, my hands now smaller, softer, and less worn.

I was young.

A laugh escaped my lips, sharp and bitter. “So, it worked,” I said aloud, my voice trembling. “The great Lin Fan, reduced to this.”

I caught my reflection in a nearby stream, the water rippling under the morning sun. The face staring back at me was both familiar and foreign. I was seventeen again, my features sharp but unmarred by the passage of time. My hair was black, falling messily over my forehead, and my eyes burned with a determination that felt... alien.

“This is who I was,” I murmured, touching my face as if to confirm it was real. “A boy with nothing but potential.”

The realization hit me like a blow. I was starting over, from the very bottom. All the power, the prestige, the reverence—I had traded it all for this.

And yet, a part of me felt... relieved.

For centuries, I had carried the weight of my cultivation, the constant pressure to grow stronger, to maintain my place at the top. Every decision had been calculated, every step measured. Now, for the first time in ages, I felt free.

But freedom came with a cost.

My stomach growled, the first pangs of hunger gnawing at me. I hadn’t eaten in centuries, my immortal body sustaining itself through cultivation alone. Now, I was bound by mortal needs once more. Hunger, thirst, fatigue—all of it came rushing back, overwhelming me with its intensity.

I knelt by the stream, cupping water in my hands and drinking greedily. The cool liquid soothed my parched throat, its simplicity grounding me in this new reality.

As I sat there, catching my breath, I began to take stock of my situation. I was in the lower realm, the starting point of all cultivation. I was weak, unrefined, and utterly unremarkable. But I had something no one else did: knowledge.

I knew where the treasures were hidden, the artifacts that could accelerate my growth. I knew the names of rising stars, those who would one day shape the destiny of this world. I knew the paths to power, the mistakes to avoid, and the enemies to watch for.

This was my advantage.

I clenched my fists, a spark of determination igniting within me. “I may have lost everything,” I said quietly. “But I haven’t lost myself.”