In a world where Divine Beasts roam, there lived people who could cultivate and train to become the strongest there is. In this world, cultivation was seen as the most important aspect in everyone’s life, for the strong conquer the weak and rule over many lands.

In the beginning, there existed sixteen Ancestral Cultivators who gave birth towards sixteen major provinces, however, as the years went, many of these major provinces fought over the right to be called the strongest. The major provinces all ruled in their respective areas; marshes, mountains, valleys and many others.

At that time the strongest of all the sixteen major provinces, suddenly disappeared without a trace, leaving only their legends behind.

During their disappearance, only fifteen major provinces were left and existed in this world.

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In the cold night, under the melodies sung out by the choir of raindrops backed up by a deafening orchestral of thunder as lighting shone upon the pale face of a young woman.

The young woman’s footsteps resounded in the forest out on the outskirts of a village. With her breathing in disorder she looked towards the lights as her hope as she kept running without stop, for a single moment of rest would be the death of her.

Various branches carved their way through her robe causing various lines of scarlet to be washed away from her pale skin, only to join the muddy waters that laid her path. Not minding the pain or the blisters and bruises plastered all over her, she kept running with a clear determination. Even if she dies, she must not fail.

Wusha

Numerous sword energies ran past her leaving trails of light slashing through her flesh.

Wusha

Turning back to the familiar sound, she immediately started to duck from the oncoming barrage of sword only to slip down a small slope.

Realizing that her balance was going to be lost, she hardened her body as she gently yet firmly held onto a bundled clothe, holding it in front of her chest.

Tumbling into the borders of the village, she crawled her way towards it. Crawling with all her strength, as slow as a turtle being weigh down by her injuries, she still persevered.

Wusha

Standing on the height of the slope, her pursuers unleashed sword auras as they flew like lightning towards her.

Under the pouring rain, a single shadow walked under the shelter of a silk umbrella. The shadow was wearing fine clothing and was a mismatch towards the poor atmosphere of the town.

In the blink of an eye, the shadow disappeared and immediately after that reappeared next to the woman.

Peng! Peng! Peng!

Swiftly positioning his umbrella, he reflected the sword auras heading towards the woman nonchalantly. Slowly lowering his umbrella, he sent his gaze towards the slope and saw a group of dark clothed people standing there in shock.

Realizing that they were no match for the person who suddenly appeared, they retreated back into the darkness of the forest.

Seeing that the pursuers have left, the man bent down and covered the woman with his umbrella. A careful glance at the woman made the man surprised, she was covered head to toe in wounds as blood kept being washed away from the rain.

Lifting the woman into the village, he felt a small pull from his side. Looking towards his side, he saw the woman staring straight at him with her fist clenched on the bundle of cloth in her arms.

“Please, leave me, but the child must live, and as far away from those people that no one must know,” she said in a weak voice.

The man was shocked and as he suddenly realized that the woman was holding a child. Not caring about the origin of the child, he stuck to the teachings of his sect and laid the woman under a small roof of a house as he grabbed the child and rushed out.

Contemplating and weighing his choices, he knew that he cannot let the child stay in this village since the pursuers have seen it.

“Do I take this child with me to the sect?” this thought came to his mind but as soon as it did, he would remember the words of the dying woman.

Running at immense speed that could almost be seen as flying, he came to a halt at the entrance of another village. Reading the sign of the village name, a warm smile escaped his lips.

“This is good, this village belongs under a good province,” he thought as he swiftly entered the village.

Stopping before a small building, he knocked to which a young red haired girl opened the door.

Staring dumbfounded at the man with nice clothing, the girl was scared. Seeing the fear in her eyes, the man knelt down and patted her head to comfort her.

As the girl calmed down, he handed her the child in his arms as he asked the girl, “little girl, I do not know the origin of this child, but whatever you do, please, never let go of this child.”

Nodding her head, the girl took in the child and the man disappeared. Looking at the crying child in small arms, she quickly hushed the child to sleep. Not long after, a peacefully sleeping child with orange hair laid there captivating the young girl who swore in her heart to protect the child.

Wusha = SFX of something flowing through wind (ENG = Fwoosh)

Peng = SFX of metal hitting (not the bird) (ENG = Ping?)