In ancient times, cultivators lived in peace, far from ordinary people, in secluded abodes and mountains where they silently sought enlightenment.
Their presence was known only to a few. Some witnessed them flying through the skies, altering the terrain, turning barren land into fields of flowers, and summoning wind and rain. These accounts remained stories that few dared to believe—except for the witnesses. Some regarded them as deities, protectors of the land, blessing it with their power.
To the cultivators, this was ideal. They could focus on their quest for immortality without the interference of the outside world. Their sole reason for embarking on the path of cultivation was to gain eternal life—a limitless span of time in which they could achieve nirvana. They called this the True Way of Cultivation.
It was a peaceful existence. War and poverty had no impact on their lives.
However, everything changed when one ordinary person, having heard the stories, decided to seek them out.
This individual had no cultivation, no powers. The journey was long and perilous, nearly costing the seeker their life, with helpless nights and nightmares haunting them.
But persistence paid off, and the adventurous soul eventually found what they sought.
After countless days and nights, dodging death at every turn, the person finally stood before the legendary cultivators, kneeling before them, pleading for strength. The reasons for their request were unknown, but the desire to fly, to alter landscapes, and summon rain was strong.
Yet, their plea was denied. For hours, days, and weeks, the person begged.
But the mountain closed itself, and suddenly, they found themselves at the base once more, barred from re-entry. No matter the path, they would always return to where they began.
It was a crushing blow—to their spirit, to their dreams, and to the reason they sought the cultivators in the first place.
As sorrow settled in, it was soon replaced by anger. Revenge fueled the person's heart.
The Ancestor Cultivators believed that peace would return once the person left.
But, alas, greed and the desire for power led to the cultivators' discovery.
More ordinary people, led by the rejected pioneer, sought them out, amassing strength and influence over the years. This growing force soon rivaled that of the cultivators, as ordinary people gained powers comparable to their once-mythical deities.
With no other choice, the ascetics left their mountains, engaging in battle with those who sought to take their power.
Years of war followed, spreading far and wide, transforming the land, the animals, and the flora. Creatures became dangerous, turning into flesh-eating monsters. The natural world itself became terrifying.
Neither side could gain the upper hand. A stalemate ensued, leading to a treaty—an agreement for peace and order.
But the aftermath of the war lingered. Monsters continued to roam, and the cultivators' techniques spread throughout the world. Over time, variations and new techniques emerged. Ordinary people learned to stand toe-to-toe with their once-divine counterparts, while the cultivators formed sects and martial schools to preserve the True Way of Cultivation.
Enlightenment and immortality.
"Two powers that tried to best one another…" Apollo muttered as he read the book in his hands. He sat cross-legged, leaning against the bookshelves, with great interest in his eyes. "A war that lasted at least ten thousand years? This sounds like bullsh*t."
Apollo placed a hand under his chin. Though it seemed like something straight out of a fictional novel, the beggar didn't doubt its authenticity.
It was the first book he had read after using the Basic Locator. A very convenient item, the locator allowed him to input the objects he was looking for, and it would alert him when he was near the target. However, he still had to move around to maximize its usefulness.
Apollo glanced at the book on his lap. It was a very basic history book. The content was sparse, leaving him with more questions than answers.
Why did the person seek out the cultivators?
What was the influence that allowed ordinary people to stand toe-to-toe with their deities?
And who was that person? Who were the Ancestors?
As these questions lingered in his mind, he continued flipping through the book. After the initial story, nothing else captured his attention.
Setting it aside, he stood up and picked up the Basic Locator, which had just finished charging. Like his Cleaning Bead, the item needed to store Qi to function.
Apollo continued browsing the area, using the Basic Locator to find topics that piqued his interest before diving into the books.
In no time, he felt satisfied with the additional knowledge he'd gained. He mainly focused on useful information, like politics and cultivation.
Glancing at the scattered books on the floor, he hesitated for a moment before deciding to leave the mess behind. Cleaning wasn't his concern.
He walked toward the stairs leading to the second floor. Now that he was here, he intended to make the most of it. After all, it was one of the perks of being a Personal Disciple.
Just as he was about to place his foot on the first step, someone called out to him.
Apollo turned toward the voice and saw a person approaching. One glance told him all he needed to know—a young master had locked onto him as a target.
It had been a while since someone with the "Young Master Syndrome" offered themselves up for humiliation. He didn't consider his previous opponent, Heru, to be one of them—Heru had been somewhat restrained, probably because of the presence of his master and the Headmaster.
However, Apollo's gut told him that the noble now standing in front of him was one of the untamed.
"What?" Apollo asked, deliberately using a rude tone.
The noble raised an eyebrow. "Watch your tone, kid. Don't you know who I am?!"
Ah, Don't you know who I am?! Classic. Apollo smirked inwardly. He could already taste the satisfaction of humiliating the young noble. What was the word for it? Faceslapping?
"Should I?" Apollo asked, smiling coldly. "Why don't you enlighten me?"
"Hahaha, I expected nothing less from someone who looks like a beggar." The noble smiled mockingly. "I'm from the Callum Family, so pay your respects!"