Chapter Two: Transcendence

Deep within the dense jungle, a sudden pillar of white light shot up from the damp, yielding earth. In the blink of an eye, it expanded into a luminous circle two meters across, the column soaring into the sky—but just as quickly, it vanished. Where the light had emerged, a young boy now lay in a deep sleep, his slender jacket hanging loosely around his small frame. A single ray of sunlight pierced the canopy, falling on the watch at his wrist.

A few minutes later, his watch began to emit a soft green glow, projecting a screen of light into the air. A beam of green scanned the boy’s body again and again.

“Target is safe.”

“Target is in a state of unconsciousness.”

“Commencing awakening protocol…”

Just then, a figure sped toward the clearing, and the light screen vanished instantly. The newcomer barreled through the jungle, snapping ancient trees in his path with resounding crashes. In a blur, the figure stopped before the sleeping boy.

His right sleeve flapped limply in the wind, and a flask at his waist gave off the rich, sweet scent of wine.

“So this was the brat who caused that white pillar of light? What a formidable power! Hmph…” The old man grabbed his flask with one hand, bit off the stopper, and took a long swig.

“This kid must be carrying something precious—maybe something powerful. That pillar of light was no ordinary thing!” He set his flask aside and began rummaging through Zhou Yu’s clothes with his left hand. After some time, all he found was a lighter and half a pack of cigarettes.

He pulled out a cigarette, held it under his nose, and inhaled deeply. The scent of tobacco filled his nostrils. “Just tobacco—pity it’s nothing rare.” He stashed the half pack in his robe, then examined the lighter for a while without understanding what it was.

With a sharp smack, he slapped Zhou Yu across the face. “Hey! Kid! Wake up!”

Zhou Yu’s eyes fluttered open. The first thing he saw was a blade of vibrant green grass. The earthy scent of soil and the freshness of grass filled his nose.

He sat up slowly, suddenly noticing his clothes were far too large. Looking closer at his hands, he saw that the fingers, once stained yellow from cigarettes, were now slender and pale.

A surge of alarm swept through him as he checked his body—he had shrunk!

This has to be a dream, it must be, Zhou Yu told himself.

“Who are you, boy?” the old man asked.

Looking up, Zhou Yu saw an elderly man in ragged, ancient garb speaking to him. Where his right hand should have been, his sleeve hung empty.

“My name is Zhou Yu. Where am I?” Everything felt so real—not like a dream at all. And after all, in dreams, you don’t realize you’re dreaming; as soon as you do, you wake up. Zhou Yu quickly reasoned—this was no dream!

“Ha! This is my territory, and you’ve no place to ask questions here!” The old man’s voice was loud and oddly accented, but Zhou Yu could understand him.

He glanced behind the old man at the toppled, splintered trees and the leaves and wood chips clinging to the man’s white hair and robe. Realizing just how strong this old man must be, Zhou Yu replied, “Then I’ll do as you say.”

The old man squinted and inspected him from every angle. “Well now! You’re an interesting one, aren’t you?”

“Tell me—was it you who released that white pillar of light just now?”

“I don’t know. I only just woke up.”

“Ha! And who are you, really?”

“My name is Zhou Yu.”

“Don’t try and fool me! Who are you? Where did you come from?” The old man glugged more wine, the sight making Zhou Yu’s mouth water. Swallowing, he answered, “My name is Zhou Yu, from City A. I suppose I must have come from City A, but as for how I got here, I have no idea.”

“City A? Never heard of it. I haven’t left this mountain in twenty years—when did such a city spring up? No matter! Boy, since I saved you, you’ll listen to me from now on!”

“You saved me? You mean this?” Zhou Yu touched the red handprint on his cheek.

“Ha! Being struck by my Invincible Iron Sword Palm is an honor! I’m in a good mood today, so I’ll take you as my disciple! Come, kneel and bow!”

The old man seemed mad, but inside he schemed. That white light must have come from this boy—he must have a secret. Better tie him to me now, and dig deeper later.

“Disciple? Isn’t this a bit sudden? We’ve only just met, it hasn’t even been five minutes…”

“Well, even though you didn’t kneel, you called me Master, so I suppose I’ll accept you.” The old man ignored Zhou Yu’s protests.

Zhou Yu’s mouth hung open, speechless. This was just like a fantasy novel—if that’s really the case, then I must have traveled to another world! But where, exactly?

“Master, may I ask where we are?”

“Foolish question! This is my domain, of course!” The old man shouted, as if Zhou Yu’s query was idiotic.

Zhou Yu couldn’t tell if the man was truly insane or just pretending, but everything had happened so suddenly, and he had no clues. He decided to go along with it for now.

“Up! Come with your master to the cave!” The old man tapped Zhou Yu’s forehead.

Cave? Is he a hermit master? But he looks so disheveled… Zhou Yu thought as he brushed the dirt off himself and followed the old man.

“Master, what technique does our Iron Sword Sect cultivate?” Zhou Yu tested.

“Foolish question! The iron sword, of course!”

“Iron sword?”

“Yes! A great, heavy sword!”

An hour later, Zhou Yu finally saw what the old man called his cave—a dilapidated thatched hut. As for the so-called iron sword, it was indeed massive—half a meter wide, two meters long—but covered in dark red rust and nicks. It was little more than a heap of scrap iron.

“My disciple! Go and hunt a wild boar in the woods for our supper,” the old man said, plopping down on the enormous sword.

Zhou Yu gestured at his oversized clothes, hinting that he wasn’t fit to move. On the way here, he had confirmed that he’d shrunk, but still didn’t know by how much.

“Ha! That’s easily solved.” The old man stood and, waving the rusty sword through the air, sent out slashes of sword energy, trimming Zhou Yu’s clothes to size.

“Thank you, Master, but I haven’t yet learned the Iron Sword arts—I can’t catch a wild boar barehanded.” Though amazed by the old man’s display, Zhou Yu didn’t show it. After all, if he could suddenly shrink, what else was impossible?

“Ha! That’s nothing! I’ll grant you ten years of my cultivation!” With that, the old man leapt before Zhou Yu and struck his forehead with a palm.

Zhou Yu couldn’t evade in time and was struck squarely on the brow. Strangely, it didn’t hurt; instead, a surge of warm, robust energy poured into his body.

If this isn’t a dream, then I really have transmigrated, Zhou Yu thought.

Moments later, the old man withdrew his hand and tossed the battered, nicked sword to Zhou Yu. “Take it for your protection!”

Instinctively, Zhou Yu reached out—and to his astonishment, actually caught it. The sword must weigh several hundred pounds at least. The old man’s ten years of cultivation were no joke.

Weighing the sword, Zhou Yu said, “Master, I’ll go hunt that wild boar now.” With that, he turned and left.

Should I run? Zhou Yu wondered as he neared the woods. He’d arrived in a strange place, met a crazy old man, taken him as a master, received ten years of cultivation, and been gifted a hunk of “scrap iron.”

But where would I run? And to where?

After much deliberation, Zhou Yu decided it was best to stick with the old man for now and get his bearings before making any plans.

He glanced at his wrist—three o’clock in the afternoon.

Wait—he looked again at the watch. This wasn’t his own! His was silver, but this was black and studded with buttons.

After fiddling with it for a while, Zhou Yu finally pressed a small red button.

A soft green glow emerged from the watch, projecting a screen of light.

A face appeared—a man in black, one of the three he vaguely remembered.

“Esteemed King, Minos greets you.” The man bowed.

“You may not fully understand what’s happening, but time is short—we had to move you quickly. The scoundrels of the Heavenly Way have returned in force. Aiakos, Rhadamanthys, and I will give our all—until your return.”

Zhou Yu was baffled. Minos? Aiakos? Rhadamanthys? Weren’t those the three judges of the underworld in legend? What did they have to do with him?

“Esteemed King, you are now in the world you created—Roshendo. According to your final command, we transferred your reincarnation—your current self—into Roshendo ten years before the Heavenly Way’s second great assault. You said you would be reborn in Roshendo and return before the Heavenly Way’s invasion to lead us to victory.” Minos continued.

So I really have transmigrated—to a place called Roshendo. But what is all this about the Heavenly Way, and a great assault? And why are these people calling me ‘King’?

“I’m afraid I don’t really understand what you’re saying,” Zhou Yu said to Minos in the projection.

But Minos didn’t respond, repeating in the same tone and expression, “Cursed Heavenly Way has sealed your divinity. You must awaken within ten years. Oh, esteemed King, you must be confused—let me start from the beginning.”

“Esteemed King, in your former life you were the Ashura King—revered by all beings, feared by the gods, supreme leader of the Ashura. Hades, Lord of the Underworld, is another of your names. Eons ago, the Heavenly Way sought to conquer the Six Realms. Led by you, our Ashura warriors triumphed again and again, nearing victory. But then, the despicable Heavenly Way turned their wrath on the human world—your present world. Out of compassion for humanity, you were betrayed by the Heavenly Way and your divinity was sealed. Before you departed, with your final strength you forged Roshendo, a realm beyond the Six Realms.”

“You prophesied that the Heavenly Way would rekindle war after eons, and then you would return…”

At this point, Zhou Yu could scarcely listen. All he’d done was suffer a breakup, cried out “I will succeed!” on a city street, and now he was being told he was the savior of the world. Ashura King, Lord Hades—could that really be him? It all sounded like a movie.

Minos’s projection continued to pour out grievances and tales of hardship—of searching for the Ashura King’s reincarnation, of fighting the Heavenly Way, and slaying countless of their gods.

Zhou Yu pressed the red button again. Minos vanished, replaced by the image of a young, beautiful girl.

She spoke: “Esteemed King, greetings. My code is 0001. Is there anything I can help you with?”