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“It seems I’ve really traveled through time—”
Within the luxuriously decorated carriage, Zong Shou gazed expressionlessly at the round mirror before him.
The image in the mirror clearly showed a not yet fully grown young man.
About thirteen, his complexion pale, yet those features were uncommonly handsome and exquisitely perfect.
A pair of slender phoenix eyes sparkled brilliantly.
However, at this moment, they were filled with a hint of bitterness and helplessness.
He remembered that not long ago, he was unmistakably a person with an exceedingly ordinary face, the kind that would never be found if lost in a crowd.
He worked as a librarian in a small country’s capital within the Cloud Realm, living a life without purpose, with the most ordinary of identities.
Yet unexpectedly, upon waking from a dream, his body had become that of this handsome youth.
Although it looked slightly frail and sickly, it was without a doubt first-rate in terms of handsomeness.
Even the top male celebrities known for their good looks in his previous life couldn’t compare.
If there was anything lacking, it was only his temperament.
At this moment, however, Zong Shou felt not the slightest joy but rather a sense of painful confusion.
It was as if a fish, which had been freely swimming in the vast ocean, suddenly found itself on land.
All around him, apart from that suffocating unfamiliarity and surprise, there was also a feeling of fear and loneliness.
Refusing to give up, Zong Shou pinched his face harder, only to feel a sharp pain.
Naturally, he didn’t find any traces of cosmetic surgery on his face.
“—There’s the sensation of pain, so it can’t be a dream?
And this place, where am I exactly?”
‘Zong Shou’ was the name that belonged to the memories of the body he now possessed.
He had another name in his previous life, but in these circumstances, it held no significance for him.
Muttering to himself, Zong Shou sighed and looked away, his chest filled with despair; the thought of returning or ‘waking from the dream’ had been utterly abandoned.
In fact, it had been several days since he switched bodies.
Almost every time he woke up from sleep, he would repeat the earlier actions.
Today was the seventh day.
Looking at the interior decoration of the carriage, it seemed to be from ancient times, yet not quite.
Opening the curtains further, he saw vast expanses of wilderness stretching beyond sight, lush and green, which lightened his heart.
The air was also fresh and invigorating, without a trace of the pollution from his own era.
Looking down further, he noticed that although the carriage had wheels, it hovered three feet above the ground.
The sixteen single-horned horses in front could tread air and ascend or descend at will.
Thus, although the carriage was massive, with just the compartment being forty square meters, it could navigate any complex terrain effortlessly.
At this moment, no one was driving the carriage at the front; it rushed straight ahead, speeding into the distance.
The slice marks and sword scars on both sides of the carriage also drew great attention.
Zong Shou felt dizzy and slumped onto the soft couch covered with a swan velvet pad.
The horses were domesticated spiritual beasts, and the vehicle was a Cloud Flipping Chariot.
However, to his knowledge, these two things only appeared twelve thousand years prior in the Cloud Realm, and they should be antiques from a distant past.
Then with just a thought, a series of fragmented memories flared up in his mind.
All were disjointed and incomplete.
There were many characters and faces.
Now practicing martial arts, now studying.
He had seen life-and-death struggles and had witnessed people flying through the skies and burrowing into the earth.
There was also an enormous mountain reaching into the heavens, and a college on an island lake so large it was inconceivable.
It felt both foreign and familiar, with an obscure sense of fear.
It was an incredibly complex and strange feeling.
Finally, in the deepest part of his mind, the only completely intact memory remained.
There were myriad mysterious characters, combined to form a complete book.
These characters were extremely familiar to him; he could even say he knew them like the back of his hand.
During his student days, he had done extensive research on them and even published specialized papers on the subject.
“The Indeterminate Spirit Emperor Technique and this Demon Language.
Could it be that this place is really the era from over ten thousand years ago, when Martial Cultivators and Spirit Masters reigned supreme?
The characteristics in my memory should be unmistakable—”
Thinking of the college in his fragmented memories where Spirit Masters used telekinesis and manipulated spiritual energy daily, Zong Shou’s lips twitched slightly, but his face was filled with confusion.
He had seen similar scenes before, but only in games.
In later generations, the Cloud Realm prohibited private fights, and with the spiritual energy of the world waning, only a few places known as ‘Holy Lands’ had richer energy.
Martial arts and telekinesis began to decline as various machines emerged, leading to the rise of technology.
Still, the people of the Cloud Realm carried the legacy of their ancestors’ struggle against the heavens, fostering a relentless and fiercely competitive spirit within themselves.
Unable to practice martial arts normally, they sought solace in the virtual world of games.
The most famous of these was a virtual holographic network game called “Divine Emperor.” It was said that the game invited all existing martial arts experts of the age, along with hundreds of historians, to perfectly recreate the era 13,000 years prior when heroes were numerous before the advent of the Divine Emperor.
The practice of martial arts and telekinesis, along with daily life, was made to closely mimic reality.