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The three Holy Sons from the Azure Cloud Palace, You Xian Sect, and Falling Flower Valley all come from profound backgrounds. Even Song Baliang, the Holy Son of Xuanfo Temple, has connections. Although Song Baliang is an orphan, his master is Datong, a figure who has instilled fear in the cultivation world for nearly a century as the Killer Yama, a generation's Evil Buddha.
The only one without any background is the Holy Son of the Overlord Sect. He is a cultivator who has risen from humble beginnings on his own. As a child, he was merely a cowherd in Mountain Hollow. However, there was a teacher in Mountain Hollow who shared many fascinating stories about the outside world in his school.
Yuan Lie, the Cowherd, was deeply captivated by the teacher's tales from the very first time he heard them. Eager to hear more stories, he approached the teacher, who pointed to a cart full of books, indicating that Yuan Lie should read them himself.
From that day on, Yuan Lie devoted himself to studying day and night until he could read those intriguing stories on his own.
Later, Yuan Lie stumbled upon a severely injured cultivator in a cave within Mountain Hollow. The dying cultivator requested him to bury him in a feng shui cave. Yuan Lie nodded in agreement, and in return, the cultivator passed on an ordinary cultivation method to him.
Using this seemingly unremarkable cultivation method—one that was well-known yet rarely practiced—Yuan Lie left Mountain Hollow and ventured beyond the county and royal city until he defeated all the new generation disciples. It was then that he was accepted as a disciple by the sect leader of Overlord Sect, where titles of Holy Son were earned through actual combat experience.
However, everyone knew him as just a poor boy from Mountain Hollow—silent, dark-skinned, strong, and able to eat a lot. People regarded him as a simpleton until he became Holy Son. Only then did whispers begin to circulate around him, and for a while, he became numb to it all.
People inevitably change.
Yet some things remain constant.
No one knew how much impact the bustling royal city had on this Cowherd who had come from the countryside. In truth, his favorite days were still those nights over ten years ago when his teacher told him stories for an entire night, took him to bathe in the river, and when their family’s yellow cow gave birth for the first time—when he could finally eat meat until full.
The most significant influence came from his first visit to the county city. Everything there was so prosperous and lively that it left an overwhelming impression on him. At that moment, he vowed to escape this world and leave that mountain behind. He remembered his teacher saying that there are always people beyond people and skies beyond skies; those who can defeat you are not merely coincidences; often in this world of cultivators, luck is the greatest strength.
Caution leads to longevity.
Yuan Lie pondered many things; he considered the consequences of nearly every action. Although he appeared robust and somewhat aged—perhaps due to his prolonged contemplation and calculations—he did not believe in immortality. He had researched extensively and found that while a cultivator's lifespan could reach over a thousand years under normal circumstances, among all the sect records and sacred stele of high-ranking members of his sect, he found only one who lived past a thousand years; most lived only three to five hundred years or even died after just one or two hundred years.
The constant wars and intrigues among the sects in the world of cultivation were severe, so he did not fear expending his vitality, all for the sake of continuing on in the Rivalry Among Hundreds of Ships until there was no one left by his side.
He still remembered when he received the news of his mother's death; it was during a meeting where the elders were giving lectures and exchanging ideas with other sects. As the Holy Son, he had to set an example in many matters and could not leave. The elders forbade him from descending the mountain. His appearance was not particularly pleasing, which naturally did not earn him many favorable impressions. Although his master had saved his life, he had also brought much honor to the Sect. He knew that every time his master finished teaching him, he would urge him to leave quickly, perhaps simply because of his looks.
In this era, a master who cherished their disciple could keep them in their room, watching them fall asleep before passing on their teachings through the Ripple of Enlightenment to deepen their understanding of the Dao and help them attain enlightenment sooner.
Yuan Lie understood everything. From a young age, he learned to read others' expressions and intentions; even a slight movement or change in someone's facial expression could reveal what they were trying to convey.
Thus, every time Yuan Lie finished listening to the teachings, he would bow and leave without a word.
Later on, there was a time when he truly believed himself invincible; no one at his level could rival him. He felt confident that he could defeat any genius with a single punch. However, when he stepped out into the world for the first time and entered the Haotian Secret Realm, he encountered the Holy Sons of other sects. Whether from Azure Cloud Palace or Youyou Xianpai, he found himself lacking confidence in defeating them. Even if his chances were slightly better, it wasn't until he saw the Divine Serpent Saint Child that he realized he might not be a match for them.
He began to doubt himself. Such doubts were detrimental for cultivators; they believed in forging ahead with confidence to cultivate faster and become extraordinary figures. But Yuan Lie did not think that way; he never considered challenging someone without any assurance of victory.
Challenging the Divine Serpent Saint Child gave him only a thirty percent chance of winning.
Later, he saw Zhao Yang and Song Baliang in the Ancient Cave at the Back Mountain of the Desolate Village near the Earth Spirit Spring.
Against Song Baliang, he felt an eighty percent chance of victory.
But against Zhao Yang, he had no confidence at all.
He did not understand why facing that young man named Zhao Yang filled him with an insurmountable sense of helplessness. Clearly, his cultivation method was superior, and with the Overlord Body Refinement Technique, his True Qi was both purer and more abundant. Yet when confronted with this young man, he felt powerless—so powerless that he realized just raising his hand could lead to immediate death. Thus, he never made a move, watching helplessly as two of the most outstanding Holy Sons from his newly acquainted sect perished beside him.
He could not defeat that seemingly weaker boy; it was a keen sensitivity and foresight towards danger formed by a country boy entering the intricate and vibrant world of cultivation.
At that moment, he walked at the front of the line, but he was no longer the Holy Son of the Overlord Sect; a new Holy Son had been born. His aura was ordinary and unremarkable, resembling that of a simple cowherd. His attire was plain, lacking any fragrance or sweat, his gaze was not resolute, and his expression was not cold. He seemed to blend seamlessly into the surroundings.
In his hand, he held a Sword. Previously, this Sword had been something others clamored to possess, but now he was forced to carry it as a servant, showing no signs of resistance.
If nothing unexpected occurred, it was likely that soon he would fade into obscurity, for his Soul Lamp had already been extinguished, and his Sacred Stele had been removed. He no longer had the right to listen to the teachings of his master.
If nothing unexpected occurred, perhaps he would simply be a cowherd living somewhere in a Mountain Hollow, leading a life where meals were scarce.
And if nothing unexpected occurred, he would not spend countless nights weeping in sorrow, unable to see his mother before her death, hiding under the covers while crying like a child over the letter written by his Teacher.
One day, he returned to that unforgettable Mountain Hollow. His Teacher had passed away on a sickbed. Faced with this person who had shown him immense kindness, he felt powerless. He remembered wanting to ask the elder for some Elixirs to bring back for his fellow villagers and his beloved teacher when he left.
But everything went against his wishes; the Long Realm was too high. Even as the Holy Son, it would only take a mere finger for others to decide to kill him.
Thus, all he could do was bury his beloved teacher near his mother's grave and stand by the Grave for a long time until it was time for him to return to the Sect.
Zhao Yang watched Yuan Lie from afar, observing this boy who had been thoroughly crushed into such a plain state. A sense of unease and sadness stirred within him; he did not know where this feeling came from, yet it was so clear and deeply felt.
Yuan Lie did not look at anyone as he held the Sword for the Holy Son of the Overlord Sect and walked toward the entrance of Heavenly Mechanism Mountain.
Meanwhile, the abbot of Xuanfo Temple raised his head and looked at this young man from the Overlord Sect.
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