"This door..."
"Can it really send me to another world?"
As Aeron Vale connected with the strange gateway within his mind, a flurry of messages flooded his consciousness—clear and concise. The door wasn't metaphorical. It was real, though not in the traditional sense.
It wasn't his physical body that would pass through.
It was his True Spirit—his conscious self—reincarnated into another world.
"The Gate of Myriad Worlds," Aeron whispered to himself, eyes glowing with realization.
The light gate that shimmered in his mind was no illusion. Text continued to flicker in the corner of his vision, confirming the truth—he was the designated bearer of the Gate of Myriad Worlds.
And now, it asked a single question:
"Would you like to initiate a traversal?"
Aeron hesitated, his heart pounding. The gate offered an opportunity, but not without cost.
Every traversal used up its power and required time to recharge—between eight months to a year, as measured by Canglan Star's calendar.
"I won't get another chance soon…" Aeron's mind raced.
In just a few days, recruitment officers would arrive. Once under military custody, he would be placed under constant surveillance. If the spiritual journey left even the slightest trace—brainwave fluctuations, nervous shifts, or soul resonance—it could be detected.
And if anyone discovered the secret of the Gate...
He would face a fate far worse than conscription.
"Those who carry treasures are often doomed," Aeron muttered. "It's best to act now, while no one's watching."
Besides, what if the world beyond the gate helped him become an Evolver? If so, it might be his only ticket to freedom.
He made his decision.
"Traverse."
The moment the word echoed in his mind, the light gate pulsed.
A powerful force pulled at his consciousness—dragging his True Spirit forward.
---
The Great Li Dynasty
Daizen Temple
In the heart of the eastern continent stood the sacred sanctuary of Daizen Temple, revered across the realm as the foremost holy ground of the Buddhist path.
But it was more than that—a Martial Dao sanctuary whose legacy ran so deep, even empires bowed in respect.
Over fifty monks at the Innate Realm resided here. And at its peak sat a single Grandmaster monk, whose strength placed him among the few Apex-level beings in the realm.
---
Within the Warrior Monk Courtyard, the air rang with the steady rhythm of fists and breath. Dozens of muscular monks—bare-chested, drenched in sweat—practiced the foundational Arhat Fist, a technique not advanced, but essential for refining one's body and blood.
Each punch echoed with discipline, spirit, and tradition.
Not far away, a group of toddlers clad in gray novice robes peeked out from behind wooden beams. Their round eyes sparkled with wonder and yearning.
They were orphans taken in by the temple—fresh disciples yet untouched by the path of cultivation.
Among them, a child looked younger than the rest, his gaze far older.
Aeron Vale.
His eyes gleamed with intelligence and calm—his True Spirit had arrived.
"This world... a Martial Dao realm."
Though his new body was that of a young child, Aeron accessed its memories with ease. He quickly grasped the truth.
This was an ancient world reminiscent of old Earth—only here, martial masters could shatter walls with a single palm and fend off armies alone.
In the corner of his vision, a system panel appeared:
> [Name: Aeron Vale]
[Identity: Bearer of the Gate of Myriad Worlds]
[Realm: None]
[Bound Talent: Heaven-Defying Comprehension]
[Current Status: Consciousness Projection]
[Stay Duration: 20 Years]
"I only get twenty years here?" Aeron murmured. That was acceptable. Enough time to grow, observe, and gain power.
But what truly caught his attention—
"Heaven-Defying Comprehension?"
He focused inward. His senses were sharper—far sharper. But aside from clarity, he felt no immediate change.
Until—
"A sparrow."
Aeron tilted his head and watched a small bird flutter across the sky. His eyes followed its every motion: the flutter of wings, the aerodynamics, the balance.
And then—
> [Your comprehension is incredible. By watching the sparrow fly, you have grasped the martial technique: Divine Sparrow Soars the Skies.]
Aeron's eyes widened.
It worked.
From observing a simple bird, he had instantly learned a rare movement art—a technique allowing short bursts of aerial mobility.
"This is… absurd."
He turned his attention downward.
"An earthworm?"
A small worm wriggled from the soil. Aeron watched quietly.
> [Your comprehension is extraordinary. By observing the earthworm's motion, you have developed the Earth Dragon Burrow Technique.]
The martial art allowed rapid underground travel—perfect for ambush, escape, or stealth.
"Ridiculous. I'm learning martial arts just by looking?" Aeron thought, amazed.
He shifted his focus again—this time to the monks practicing Arhat Fist nearby.
He watched. Listened. Absorbed the form, the intent, the flow of energy.
Minutes passed. Half an incense stick's time.
> [Your comprehension defies logic. By watching the monks' Arhat Fist, you have realized: Great Principle Hanfo Fist.]
A superior version of the original.
Aeron smiled. Slowly, he lifted his small fists and began to imitate the technique.
Under the old ironwood tree in the courtyard, his tiny form moved in slow rhythm—practicing with calm and precision.
---
In the distance, Master Huiwen, head of the monastery, observed the practicing monks. He nodded in approval.
"Good. No shortcuts in Martial Dao. Decades of training... only then can one hope to break through."
His eyes scanned the courtyard—everyone seemed diligent.
Then he glanced toward the younger disciples hiding nearby.
"Those little scamps."
He saw six or seven of the youngest ones mimicking the monk's movements clumsily, giggling and wobbling about.
"Still crawling, yet already trying to run."
He shook his head in amusement—until one novice caught his attention.
The youngest among them.
He stood apart. Quiet. Focused. Moving with purpose.
Huiwen's eyes narrowed.
"That stance…"
He stepped forward, watching closely.
The boy's fists mirrored techniques that even seasoned monks struggled to perfect.
Not just form—but intent, power, and breath synchronization.
"This isn't random imitation."
The more Huiwen watched, the more shocked he became.
"Impossible…"
His heart thundered.
"A child—comprehending the essence of the Great Principle Hanfo Fist?"
He stood frozen, disbelief etched into every line of his weathered face.
What he witnessed
defied every expectation.
---
(End of Chapter 2)