It's me."
An old, weathered voice responded from behind the door.
The patriarch let out a soft groan in acknowledgment.
Taking that as confirmation, the figure outside finally opened the door.
As it creaked open, it revealed a hunched old man. His beard, snowy-white and silky, swayed gently in the wind like a flowing waterfall. Despite his fragile appearance, an indescribable aura clung to him—ancient, deep, and commanding.
The patriarch immediately cupped his hands and bowed.
"I greet the Supreme Elder."
The matriarch, exhausted yet trying to show respect, attempted to rise and offer a greeting. But her limbs trembled.
The Supreme Elder raised his hand quickly, gesturing for her to stay still.
She nodded gratefully and remained where she was.
The old man stepped forward, his gaze resting on the child in the patriarch's arms.
The patriarch, holding the newborn with both care and reverence, began to speak.
"Supreme Elder, this is—"
"Lin Chen," the elder interrupted softly, his eyes never leaving the child.
"Y-Yes…"
The patriarch was momentarily stunned.
The elder's gaze deepened.
"In all my long years, never have I seen someone cause such phenomena the moment they were born."
"Could it be… that my son has a unique body constitution?" the patriarch asked, his tone curious, uncertain. The signs—especially the toll of that golden bell—were unheard of.
"I'm afraid not," the elder replied.
"Then… may I ask, what could it be?" the patriarch inquired urgently.
The Supreme Elder let out a long sigh, as though sifting through memories that belonged to another era.
"Long ago, when our family was still a humble clan, there was one birth that changed the world. As that child came into the world, the heavens became ink, painting across the starry sky. The wind turned into brushstrokes. It was as if the world itself had become a grand calligraphy scroll."
He looked at them both with a knowing, ancient gaze.
"Do you know who that child was?"
The patriarch frowned, trying to recall anything from their ancestral records. But nothing came to mind. The matriarch looked equally lost.
The elder chuckled.
"It's to be expected," he said, stroking his long, snowy beard.
"That child was born during the Great Desolate Era—a mortal, born without power. Yet he changed the world. He led the birth of the Golden Era, when spirituality flourished, when the heavens descended not to punish, but to praise. Even the Behemoths—those mighty beings capable of splitting the skies—respected him."
His voice turned dry as he spoke, and he cleared his throat before continuing:
"To put it simply—it was a sign that Heaven would change once more, and the world… the world will begin revolving around another."
The patriarch's eyes widened.
"So… you're saying…"
"Yes."
The elder nodded solemnly.
"Watch your son closely. Lin Chen will be the one to usher in a new era. He is the Holy Son of Heaven."
As he spoke, his gaze fell once again upon the child, whose golden eyes flickered faintly like twin suns.
In silence, the elder conjured a gentle wisp of spiritual energy, intending to inspect the child's condition. But the moment the wisp neared Lin Chen—
Splat.
A mouthful of blood sprayed from the elder's lips.
"Supreme Elder!"
The patriarch rushed forward, alarmed.
But the elder quickly waved him off and wiped the blood with his sleeve.
"It's nothing… I was refining a Heavenly Fruit and left it unfinished. The rush to come here…" His voice was hoarse, but he tried to steady it.
Yet deep within his eyes, a flicker of terror danced—hidden, but unmistakable.
A fear that no words could fully express.
"I will take my leave," the elder said, stepping back toward the door.
"And one more thing—Lin Chen has no abnormalities. But do not, under any circumstances, treat him with the harsh upbringings typical of our clan."
The patriarch tensed.
"Or else…?"
He had been planning already—rigorous training, powerful teachers, sacred pills.
The elder turned back, his eyes cold and heavy with meaning.
"Or else…"
"The Heavens…"
He paused.
"The Heavens will be angry."
"What?!"