Lotus Realm
Panchal Dynasty,
Sumeru City – Major Mansion
The morning sun was just beginning to rise, its golden light filtering gently through the fine lattice of the window. A faint mist lingered in the courtyard, swirling softly as a cool wind swept through, carrying with it the earthy scent of wet stone and sandalwood incense.
Inside the mansion's inner chamber, everything was quiet.
The room was tastefully traditional—polished wooden floors, carved beams overhead, and faded tapestries depicting ancient legends hanging on the walls. In the centre stood a bed draped in snow-white silk sheets, uncreased and untouched by time.
Upon it lay a youth, still as stone.
Then, slowly, his eyelids fluttered open.
For a brief moment, his pupils glowed with seven shifting colours—like fragments of a shattered rainbow—before fading into a calm, deep black. He blinked once, the light in his eyes now clear and composed.
"…Here again?" he whispered, voice rough and dry, as if waking from a long, endless slumber. He sat up with deliberate slowness, glancing around the room.
It was exactly as he remembered it. Every detail—the scent, the grain of the wood, the distant sound of a servant's footsteps outside—matched the seventh time.
No, the eighth.
He let out a long breath and brought his hand to his chest. Smooth skin. No wound. No blood. The pain he once knew there was gone. Yet the memory of it—of the moment his so-called father plunged a ceremonial dagger into his heart—remained etched in his soul.
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat quietly, elbows resting on his knees, fingers laced together in thought.
"…seventh regression," he murmured, the words tasting bitter in his mouth.
He stood up and walked to the window, pulling aside the gauzy curtain. Sunlight touched his face, warm and soft, but his eyes remained cold. He gazed out at the courtyard where birds chirped, flowers bloomed, and young disciples were beginning their morning cultivation.
A scene so peaceful… yet behind every smile in this mansion lay a knife.
"I remember the first time I came to this world," he said softly, almost to himself. "I thought it would be like the stories… sword immortals soaring through the skies, divine beasts, immortal fairies, glorious battles. I wanted to become a hero. A legend."
He paused. A mocking smile crept up his face.
"But I was naive. This world isn't a fairytale—it's a battlefield. Only power matters. Talent is everything. If you have a treasure in your chest, even your family will carve it out of you."
His gaze darkened.
"They called me son… but I was just a placeholder. The day they found out I had a True Yang Bone… everything changed. That man, the one I called father—he didn't hesitate. He stole it from me and gave it to his real son. Because I was adopted. Because I didn't carry his blood."
He looked down at his palm, fingers slowly curling into a fist.
"My biological parents weren't any better. When I was born with the True Sun Physique, my uncle took it for his own son, claiming it was for the clan's glory. My father stood by and watched. He let it happen. Because to him, a stronger bloodline was worth more than a son."
His lips curled in disgust. "They tossed me into the lower realms like trash. Said it was to hide me from enemies… but really, they were just afraid. Afraid of what the world would say about their clan.
He paused. The next words came quieter, colder.
" And my mother she never loved my father. She never cared about me either. Their marriage was a political arrangement… I was just a leftover burden."
He exhaled slowly, letting the silence sit.
"And then… there was her," he added after a while. "The girl I thought I loved. I trusted her more than anyone. But in the end, she too called me a monster. Said I wasn't worthy of love. That I should die."
A dry chuckle escaped his throat.
"To them, I'm just a cursed child. One of destiny's playthings—born to suffer, to fall again and again. Maybe they're right."
He closed his eyes, then opened them again. This time, they were calm. Focused. Unshakable.
"But I'm still here. Eight lives. Eight deaths. And I still remember every betrayal, every scar. I have my Eye Physique… and that damned System that keeps pestering me to accept it."
A faint glow shimmered behind his eyes, quickly suppressed.
"If not for that… maybe I really would've believed it was all just a dream."