Earth—more than a thousand years had passed since he left. No matter how much wishful thinking he harbored, he understood one thing: he would probably never again have the chance to see his parents and family.
When he first heard the news, he fainted on the spot. The emotions he had suppressed deep in his heart erupted like a mountain flood, washing him away completely.
It took him a full year of drifting in a daze before he finally pulled himself together somewhat. At least, he had not forgotten why he had come.
His body was merely formed from a wisp of his true self's Primordial Spirit, so naturally it could not possess his true self's strength. He could only begin cultivating from scratch. Fortunately, when this body had been condensed, it had been formed in the most perfect state. In this form, he was a peerless genius. Every martial art came to hand effortlessly, and having cultivated once before, all of this was simply familiar terrain.
In just a few short years, he had already cultivated to Xiantian Paragon. That was without deliberately cultivating or encountering any fortuitous opportunities; he had practically relied on talent alone.
Only now did he truly understand what a real genius was like. Compared with his own grueling cultivation in the past, it was not even on the same level.
In terms of speed, though, he was even faster than his true self had been back then. He could only sigh that people truly were unequal from the moment they were born.
With his true self's experience and martial realm as a foundation, if he wished, advancing another step and breaking into the True Path would take no more than the time of a breath.
But for his current identity, Xiantian Paragon was already