Chapter 2: A World That Bows to Power
A Child in a World of Gods
The biting wind howled through the barren wasteland, carrying the scent of charred wood and blood. Jiang Yan sat atop the ruins of the old temple, his small hands clenched into fists. Though his body was that of a frail five-year-old, his mind was sharp, calculating, and filled with a burning will to survive.
This was the Divine Myriad Realms—a world ruled by Celestial Emperors, Daoist Saints, and Heavenly Tribunals. A world where mortals were born to kneel, where cultivators sought ascension, and where those who defied the heavens were erased without mercy.
And Jiang Yan?
He was supposed to be one of those erased.
"The Yan Clan... Destroyed. Their bloodline erased. Their existence wiped from history."
Memories of his past life as a modern genius and his new life as the last survivor of the Yan Clan swirled in his mind. His new identity was clear—a boy abandoned by fate, cursed by the heavens, but gifted with a power they feared.
He smirked. "Heh. The heavens should’ve made sure I was dead."
His small fingers touched his chest, where he could feel the Primordial Chaos Flame (太初混沌火) resting deep in his soul. It wasn’t just an ordinary power—it was an ancient force that predated the celestial order itself.
And it was his now.
He stood up, eyes scanning the desolate land. He needed food, shelter, and, most importantly—a way to grow stronger without attracting attention.
The Road to Strength
Jiang Yan wandered through the wasteland, his small feet sinking into the cracked earth. He had no supplies, no weapons, nothing but his instincts and an overwhelming desire to tear apart the celestial order.
"Power rules this world. Without it, I am nothing."
After hours of walking, he stumbled upon an abandoned corpse—a dead cultivator dressed in black robes, his body half-buried in the dirt. His face was twisted in horror, his chest caved in as if something had crushed him.
Jiang Yan knelt beside the corpse, unbothered by the stench of death.
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"A low-tier cultivator. Weak, but useful."
He quickly searched the body, pulling out a small storage pouch tied to the corpse’s waist. With a flick of his finger, he sent a thread of chaos fire into the seal, forcing it open.
Inside, he found:
A rusty iron sword
A low-grade spirit stone
A cracked jade talisman
A small manual covered in dried blood
Jiang Yan’s eyes gleamed. "Jackpot."
The manual’s title was barely readable: 《Nine Heavens Tempering Technique (九天锻体术)》.
"An old body-strengthening technique? Primitive, but better than nothing."
Jiang Yan sat cross-legged, flipping through the manual. The technique was crude—designed for those without talent, using pain and brute endurance to refine the body. It required intense training, harsh conditions, and the ability to survive unbearable suffering.
He smirked. "I’ve already died once. Pain doesn’t scare me."
Without hesitation, he began his first training session.
Breaking the Mortal Shell
For the next several days, Jiang Yan put his body through hell.
He ran barefoot across jagged rocks until his feet bled.
He practiced stances under a waterfall, letting the freezing water hammer his bones.
He starved himself, forcing his body to adapt without relying on spiritual energy.
He coated his fists in sand and punched stone walls until they swelled and bled.
The Nine Heavens Tempering Technique was brutal—designed to tear apart the body before reforging it stronger. Each session left him gasping, his small body on the verge of collapse.
Yet, he never stopped.
Because every drop of sweat, every broken bone, every ounce of pain—was proof that he was getting stronger.
And then, on the seventh day, something changed.
The Awakening of Chaos Flame Dao
As Jiang Yan meditated beneath the night sky, his body still aching from his training, he felt a shift within him.
The Primordial Chaos Flame that had been dormant in his soul suddenly stirred.
WHOOSH!
A burst of golden-red fire erupted from his body, swirling around him like a raging storm. Unlike normal flames, these carried an ancient aura—chaotic, untamed, and boundless.
Jiang Yan’s eyes snapped open. He could feel the fire, not just as a weapon, but as an extension of himself.
His mind instinctively understood—this was not ordinary fire.
This was the Chaos Flame Dao (混沌火道)—a cultivation path that had never been recorded in history. A path that did not follow the celestial laws.
A path that defied the heavens.
His breathing steadied as the flames coiled around him, no longer wild but controlled. He absorbed them, feeling his blood burn, his bones harden, his meridians expand.
His power was no longer just physical—his very existence was transforming.
For the first time since his rebirth, Jiang Yan grinned.
"Now… we’re getting somewhere."
Jiang Yan stood, his small body now radiating an invisible pressure. His muscles, once frail, were now tempered like steel. His once weak spiritual energy had transformed into something unpredictable and wild.
But this was just the beginning.
He had trained his body. Now, he needed weapons, resources, and most importantly—knowledge.
He turned toward the distant mountains, where a faint glow of civilization flickered beyond the horizon.
A city.
His first real step into the world.
And with it—the first move in his war against the heavens.
"I hope these so-called cultivators a
re ready…" Jiang Yan muttered, his voice cold. "Because I’m coming."
End of Chapter 2