In Great Gan's Imperial Capital.
A man's will blazed like the great sun, his eyes like fire. The air around him rippled in layer upon layer with every fluctuation of his emotions.
"Yin Fenghai has grown stronger again—"
The note in his hand burned to flying ash. Admiration shone in his eyes. "And Huang Tian, too. To think my Martial Guard could produce such a fine young talent! At the second rank, he can already stand against a Heavenly Human. If he steps into the Heavenly Human realm—I can hardly wait."
In Lan Kingdom, at the Demon Cult's sacred altar.
A man draped in a purple robe murmured, "I was in seclusion for only two months, and Gan Kingdom produced a talent of such astonishing gifts? The Xiahou brothers were killed by him as well—"
In Secret Kingdom, inside a Buddhist temple.
An old monk sat as steady as a bell, his face round as the full moon. A luminous, white-jade glow radiated from his body as he softly chanted to the hundreds of monks before him, "Amitabha."
In Prosperous Kingdom, inside a little teahouse.
Several patrons grinned at the storyteller seated before them. "Old Taoist, why aren't you cultivating? When did you take up storytelling?"
The old Taoist's graying hair was bound with a wooden pin. Wrinkles covered his face, and his gray robe had been washed nearly white. He smiled amiably. "A man has to eat. Storytelling's honest work."
"So what are you going to tell us? Not the Taoist scriptures, I hope. We don't care to hear those."
The old Taoist chuckled. "No scriptures. Even if I spoke the true teachings aloud, those without the heart to listen would struggle to grasp their meaning. Today, this old Taoist will tell you about something fresh out of Gan