Long before the Ye Clan was ever named, the world was already drowning in war.
They called it the War of Ages.
Not because it lasted a season or a decade—but because it swallowed entire generations.
Beasts ruled the wild lands. Sea serpents coiled beneath oceans that had no end. Sky creatures darkened the heavens until daylight became something rare in certain regions.
And above all these horrors stood two beings that changed everything.
The Dragon of Dominion… and the Sea Serpent of Abyss.
No one remembered which one struck first.
Only that when they collided, the world itself cracked.
Mountains collapsed into oceans. Rivers reversed their flow. Entire regions vanished beneath storms that lasted years without stopping.
In the final years of that war, even the strongest clans of mankind were forced into hiding. Survival became their only cultivation technique.
But in the end, the Dragon prevailed.
Not through endless destruction.
But through sacrifice.
Legends say the Dragon bound the Sea Serpent in a final technique so vast it tore open the sky itself. And in doing so, it gave up its own form, allowing its body to collapse into the earth and sea.
Where its heart fell, an island was born.
A living land shaped by dragon essence.
They called it—
Dragon Breath Island.
And from that island, humanity began again.
Thousands of years passed.
The truth of that era faded into myth, told only by wandering elders and half-broken scrolls. What remained were fragments—bloodlines, techniques, and beast-path inheritances passed down like fire between generations.
From these fragments, clans were born.
Some followed beasts of strength—bulls, bears, and lions.
Some followed speed—hawks, wolves, and serpents.
Some followed strange paths—poison, illusion, shadow, and silence.
And at the very top of known legend stood the Dragon Path.
Rare. Feared. Almost forgotten.
A path said to appear once in ten thousand years.
But even among these tales, most people agreed on one truth:
The world was no longer ruled by dragons.
It was ruled by clans trying to become something close to them.
In the eastern province of Dragon Breath Island, a small territory sat far from the center of power.
It was called the Ye Province.
And compared to the great clans of the world, the Ye Clan was insignificant.
Not weak enough to be ignored completely.
But not strong enough to be respected.
They existed in the lower layers of cultivation society—watching stronger families rise above them like mountains they could never climb.
Inside this clan, power was not evenly shared.
It was divided.
Between the main branch… and the branches that followed behind it.
And in one of those branch families lived a boy named Ye Fu.
Ye Fu was twelve years old.
And like most children of branch families, his life was already decided before he could decide it himself.
He lived in a household where respect was conditional, and attention was rare.
His father, Ye Chen, once had potential.
That was what people said.
"Once."
Now it was spoken with a different tone.
A tone that carried disappointment without needing words.
Ye Chen had two elder brothers.
One was the current patriarch of the Ye Clan.
The other held a powerful position within the main branch, shaping decisions that affected everyone beneath him.
And Ye Chen?
He had neither talent nor position that matched his bloodline.
Only a name that reminded others of what he failed to become.
Because of that, even within his own family line, he was often overlooked.
And so was his household.
That morning, Ye Fu sat quietly in the small training courtyard behind their home.
The air was still.
His breathing was controlled.
His stance was steady.
But his fists trembled slightly.
Not from fear.
From repetition.
He had been practicing the same movement for hours.
A basic stepping technique taught to branch disciples.
Nothing special.
Nothing powerful.
Something meant to build foundation, not destiny.
Yet Ye Fu did not stop.
Because stopping meant staying behind.
And being behind meant being forgotten.
Inside the house, voices occasionally drifted out.
His elder brother, Ye Luo, was eating again.
A lot.
As usual.
There were times when servants wondered if cultivation had anything to do with appetite.
But no one could explain Ye Luo properly.
Not even Ye Chen.
So people simply labeled him as strange.
A harmless oddity in a declining branch family.
Ye Fu exhaled slowly and reset his stance.
Then he moved again.
Step forward.
Turn.
Balance.
Repeat.
Each motion was simple.
But he repeated them like they mattered more than anything else in the world.
Because to him, they did.
From the main training field far away in the clan grounds, faint energy waves occasionally rose into the sky.
That was where true disciples trained.
Where geniuses gathered.
Where people like Ye Ming existed.
Ye Fu had seen him once before.
Just once.
And that single encounter had been enough to leave a gap in his understanding of the world.
Some people were simply born above others.
Or so it seemed.
But Ye Fu did not stop training.
Even if the world was divided.
Even if his clan was small.
Even if his branch was looked down upon.
He continued.
Because somewhere deep within him, something unknown had not yet awakened.
Something hidden beneath his bloodline.
Something that even fate had not revealed.
And for now, that was all he had.
Far above the Ye Province, clouds gathered slowly over the horizon.
No one noticed it.
But for a brief moment, a faint crackle of lightning passed through the sky without thunder.
As if something far away had briefly opened its eyes.
And then—
it disappeared.