"Some hatreds don't need to be rekindled. As long as you live, it will always burn."
Southern Region – Lin Clan Borderland
On the peak of Cloud Burial Peak, a figure clad in ash slowly ascended. Wind swept through his long hair, his eyes as deep and dark as an abyss – silent yet absolute.
Lin Mo... returned to the Lin Clan.
No one recognized him – the one once called the "crippled traitor," the one whose corpse was thrown into the abyss by his own clansmen. He walked quietly amidst the evening breeze, each step like treading on the blade of the past.
Suddenly—
"Stop! Who dares step onto the Lin Clan's territory?"
A squad of disciples in red armor appeared, led by a youth with eyes as sharp as swords: Lin Yi – Lin Yuan's trusted subordinate.
He looked up at Lin Mo, frowning slightly:
"Are you... some beggar who crawled out from the bottom of a grave?"
Lin Mo didn't speak. His eyes fixed on the Dragon Gate Stone Pillar – where his name, "Heaven's Chosen Heir to the Mandate," was once carved.
Now, that spot... had been chiseled away, replaced by the glittering name: Lin Yuan.
A cold smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
"An old grave... and you can still defile it. You Lin Clan truly have some skill."
Laughter echoed from afar:
"Oh? I didn't expect a dead dog to still find its way back."
Stepping down from a high platform, Lin Yuan, clad in purple robes, with a spirit sword hanging at his hip. His eyes were arrogant, just like years ago when he forced Lin Mo to kneel before the altar.
"You... are still alive?"
"Yes," Lin Mo replied softly, "Unfortunately, you are the first to see me... after my revival."
The air grew cold. The entire space seemed to hold its breath.
Lin Yuan frowned. Murderous intent flashed in his eyes. He didn't want that cripple to exist for another second.
Boom!!
A strike of Azure Flame Sword Intent was unleashed, carrying a nine-zhang fire dragon, charging straight towards Lin Mo.
Everyone thought he would die.
But—
Ash flew up.
A circle of gray ash Dao script appeared beneath Lin Mo's feet, spiraling in the opposite direction of heaven and earth's spiritual energy. Before the azure sword could even touch him, it was twisted into oblivion in space as if by an invisible rift.
Lin Yuan was stunned:
"What is this?! You... have no spirit root!"
"I don't need a spirit root." Lin Mo raised his head. "I just need to remember... what you did."
Lin Mo didn't move his hands. He merely raised his eyes – his will activated.
BOOM—!!
A colossal phantom hand, formed from his ashen soul, descended upon Lin Yuan's head. The pampered genius was forced to his knees.
The entire Lin Clan was shaken.
"What are you...?" Lin Yuan shrieked. "How can someone without a spirit root possibly...?"
"Because," his voice echoed among the mountains,
"You cultivate by acknowledging the world."
"And I... I cultivate by rejecting that entire world."
Lin Mo turned his back. He did not kill. He merely left Lin Yuan kneeling there – just as he had once been forced to kneel in the snow.
"Today, I have not truly returned."
"The day I truly return... is the day your bloodline, every drop... must be repaid to me."
From his footsteps, ash flew against the wind.
And amidst the ash... a light slowly bloomed from his heart meridian – the second layer of the Primordial Dao of Life was... awakening.