After observing the disciples’ practice for a while, Xiao Huzi quietly made his way to the backside of the mountain, where his master, Mu Yang, resided. It had been many years since he had last seen his master.

As Xiao Huzi approached Mu Yang's residence, he caught sight of a frail figure seated on a wooden stool outside. Mu Yang's back was hunched, his body thin and frail, and his face was a map of wrinkles. His eyes were half-closed as though in perpetual meditation.

Noticing a presence nearby, Mu Yang slowly opened his eyes. At first, his gaze was hazy with confusion, unable to recognize the figure before him. The person standing there was a tall and handsome man.

His face was striking, with sharp, chiseled features that seemed almost sculpted. His high cheekbones and defined jawline gave him a noble and commanding presence, while his slightly curved lips held a gentle smile.

But the most captivating feature was not his handsome face but his eyes—deep, almond-shaped pools of dark brown that sparkled with a profound depth, as though he could see through the illusions of the world and pierce the essence of truth.

It took a moment, but then recognition dawned on Mu Yang's face. His eyes sparkled with a faint light as memories from decades past surfaced. "Is it... you?" he whispered, his voice trembling.

Xiao Huzi stepped closer, clasping his fists and bowing deeply. "Greetings, Master. It has been a long time."

........

Xiao Huzi broke the silence first, his voice tinged with nostalgia, as he began recounting his journey over the years. His words painted vivid images of his battles, trials, and moments of enlightenment. When he mentioned that he had reached the Heavenly Ascension Stage, Mu Yang's eyes widened in astonishment.

"To have reached the Heavenly Ascension Stage at your age… Truly, you are a monstrous talent." Mu Yang said, his voice trembling slightly.

What Mu Yang didn’t realize was that Xiao Huzi had achieved this stage long ago. If he knew just how far Xiao Huzi had progressed, one could only imagine the shock that might have overwhelmed him.

In turn, Mu Yang shared his own experiences over the years. His voice carried the weight of regret and acceptance as he spoke of the rise and fall of talents within the Iron Vein Sect and the affairs that had unfolded during Xiao Huzi’s absence.

His tone darkened when he admitted, "I’ve tried for decades to break through the barrier of the Titanium Will Stage, but I failed. My lifespan is nearing its end, and now I can only await my final moments in seclusion."

Xiao Huzi’s heart grew heavy as he listened. He sighed softly. "The path of cultivation is cruel. Not everyone can surpass the hurdle of the Titanium Will Stage to step into the realm of Heavenly Ascension. It is a sorrowful truth of our journey."

After a moment of silence, Xiao Huzi spoke again, his voice steady. "Master, would you allow me to stay with you for a year? I wish to spend some time in quiet reflection."

Mu Yang’s expression softened, his weathered eyes glistening faintly. "Of course. It would bring me great joy to have your company. These days, the solitude weighs heavily on me. Perhaps the heavens have granted me this reunion as a final blessing."

The seasons changed as the year passed, marked by countless conversations and quiet moments between master and disciple. Xiao Huzi immersed himself in his studies, his mind delving deeply into the complexities of martial arts. His eyes often grew distant as he pondered, his thoughts threading through the myriad techniques he had encountered.

"The Path of Martial Arts," Xiao Huzi murmured.

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Through countless hours of contemplation, he compiled a comprehensive martial arts system. Every stroke of his brush on parchment was imbued with his understanding and insights, refined by his own journey.

In his spare time, Xiao Huzi pushed the boundaries of his knowledge, deducing theories about realms beyond the Heavenly Ascension Stage. The pursuit was invigorating, as though he were glimpsing fragments of the infinite heavens.

As the final day of his stay arrived, Xiao Huzi sat quietly in the small study Mu Yang had prepared for him. His brush moved as he completed the last page of the martial arts system. With a long exhale, he set the brush down and gazed at the finished work.

"This," he said softly, "can be given to Iron Vein Sect. It is also my way of severing karma with the Iron Vein Sect."

The moment those words left his lips, his form flickered and dissolved into the air, disappearing without a trace.

.......

Michael's eyes fluttered open, his vision blurry as a sharp, searing pain tore through his head. It felt as though an ocean of memories was crashing against his mind.

He clutched his temples, groaning softly, as the torrent slowly subsided. Minutes later, clarity returned, and he surveyed his surroundings—familiar yet strangely distant. Taking a deep breath, he murmured, "I'm back."

A moment ago, he had been in the martial arts world, where he had spent twenty-five long years honing his skills and pursuing enlightenment. And now, he was back in his dormitory.

"Oh, right... I need to check how much time has passed," he muttered, his heart pounding slightly as he looked at the clock.

Logic told him he hadn’t been gone long—if his body had remained in a coma for years, he’d surely be in a hospital by now, not sitting in the comfort of his dorm.

The clock’s display read only an hour past the moment he had "left." Stunned, Michael leaned back in his chair. "Only an hour? Twenty-five years there, and only an hour here..." His voice trailed off, disbelief in his tone.

"So, the flow of time really differs between worlds," he speculated. His thoughts drifted to old sayings he’d read about as a child— ‘One day in the heavens equals one year on earth.’

However, in this case, it seemed inverted—the martial arts world was the "lower" realm. After pondering briefly, he directed his consciousness inward.

Within his mindscape, a towering, majestic gate hovered in a void. The Otherworldly Passage, loomed before him. Its surface shimmered faintly, its intricate patterns dim yet slowly re-illuminating, as though recharging. Michael instinctively knew what it meant—when the gate was fully lit, he could travel again.

As he stared at the gate, a flood of information surged into his mind. "What now?" Michael groaned as he braced himself for the influx. The new details revealed more about the Otherworldly Passage, including its functions and limits.

His first journey had been a consciousness transfer—his body remained in the dormitory while his mind experienced a full lifetime in the martial arts world. The second method, however, allowed for both his consciousness and physical body to traverse worlds. But this method came at a cost—it required far more energy and years of recharge time for the passage.

"Ten months to a year for consciousness travel," he muttered, rubbing his chin. "But for full-body travel... several years. That’s a heavy price."

Though the second method offered advantages—such as retaining his physical strength and cultivation—it also came with significant risks. "If I die while physically there, I’m dead for good," Michael thought grimly. "At least with consciousness travel, I can restart."

Still, he couldn’t entirely dismiss the value of physical travel. It could serve as an emergency escape if his life in the main world was threatened. Additionally, the slower time flow in another world meant he could train for decades there while only losing a few months here.

More importantly, the passage granted another ability—bringing items back from other worlds. The cost for such transport was high, but it was now within his grasp.

Michael exhaled deeply, letting the revelations sink in. "First things first," he said to himself, his gaze hardening. "I need to rebuild my strength."

Closing his eyes, he focused inward. Drawing on the natural energy of this world, he began refining it in his dantian with practiced precision. For two hours, he cultivated tirelessly, his body brimming with vitality. When he finally stopped, he had reached the Titanium Will Stage, a level that surpassed ordinary mortals.

"If only the Heavenly Ascension Stage didn’t require massive external energy, I could have broken through in one go," Michael mused. Despite his rapid progress, the next stage would require more time and resources than he could gather in this world.

Circulating his internal energy, he smiled faintly. "So, I’m officially an Ascendant now." In the Stellar Human Alliance, an Ascendant was someone who had awakened powers beyond human norms—whether it be internal energy, mental prowess, or supernatural abilities.

Becoming an Ascendant exempted him from conscription, but he needed official certification to make it recognized. Without it, his strength could draw unwanted attention or suspicion from authorities.

Michael decided he would visit the Ascendant Association tomorrow to obtain his Ascendant Certificate. With nearly half a month left before the conscription date, there was still time to secure his exemption.

According to the Stellar Human Alliance charter, any Ascendant was exempt from conscription unless they voluntarily boarded a military warship. It was a rule that ensured the unique talents of Ascendants weren’t wasted on the front lines unless absolutely necessary.

"The most important thing right now is to restore my peak strength as quickly as possible," Michael muttered, sitting cross-legged on his bed, deep in thought.

The natural energy in this world was a fraction of what it was in the martial arts world. Back there, energy seemed to flow like an endless river, nourishing every cultivation attempt. Here, the atmosphere felt barren in comparison, making rapid recovery a challenge.

"If I want to compensate for the lack of natural energy, I’ll need external sources," he thought. In this context, 'external energy' referred to nutritional supplements and specialized tonics. The universe-spanning human civilization had developed countless such products, capable of enhancing recovery and aiding cultivation.

However, there was a catch—money.

Michael sighed, rubbing his temples. As a student, his finances were limited to the occasional stipend and meager savings. The cost of the supplements he needed would be astronomical, far beyond what he could currently afford.

"Another path," Michael murmured, his eyes narrowing in thought. His mind turned to the martial arts system he had perfected during his time in the other world—the Path of Martial Arts.