Chapter 251: Naen’s Dream

The world was shrouded in an absolute, suffocating darkness before consciousness bled back into Naen’s mind.

He opened his eyes to find himself standing at the perilous edge of a jagged, towering mountain cliff.

The air around him was cold and violent, driven by a howling, relentless gale that whipped his long hair frantically across his face.

Above him, the heavens were bruised purple and slate-gray, split open by roaring flashes of lightning that shook the very foundations of the earth.

Torrential rain poured down in heavy sheets, soaking his clothes instantly, yet the freezing water felt strangely ethereal, almost weightless against his skin.

Naen took a trembling step back from the abyss, his heart hammering against his ribs in the overwhelming storm.

“…Naen…”

A voice whispered from directly behind him. It did not travel through the roaring wind or the crash of thunder.

It resonated from within the deepest recesses of his soul.

It was a multi-layered, hypnotic sound—resembling the low rumble of a dormant volcano mixed with the majestic roar of an ancient apex predator.

Naen gasped, spinning around on the slick, wet rock.

“Who’s there?!”

Standing merely ten paces away in the center of the storm was a figure.

The entity was extraordinarily tall, easily towering over eight feet in height, its silhouette framed against the flashes of divine lightning.

Yet, no matter how hard Naen strained his eyes, he could not perceive a clear face or physical form.

The figure was completely distorted, wrapped in a shimmering, ethereal mist that pulsed with a deep crimson and gold luminescence.

It was a presence so divine, so utterly terrifying and grand, that the surrounding rain seemed to bend away from it, freezing in mid-air before touching its radiant aura.

Looking directly at the silhouette gave Naen the agonizing sensation of staring straight into a burning star.

Instinctively feeling the sheer pressure radiating from the stranger, Naen dropped into a rigid, low combat stance, his hands forming tight fists as his breath hitched in his throat.

“Stay back!” Naen demanded, his voice cracking amidst the thunder. “Who are you?! How do you know my name?!”

The distorted figure did not take offense.

Instead, a deep, resonant laughter echoed across the cliffside, causing the very clouds above to tremble.

The entity slowly raised its right hand—a hand shrouded in shifting, cosmic crimson mist—and extended it toward the young cultivator.

“Have you forgotten so quickly, young one?” the distorted voice resonated, laced with an amused, ancient warmth. “Did you not just kneel before my sacred mark beneath the earth? Did you not offer your spirit to my name?”

Naen’s breath caught completely.

His eyes widened into vast circles of realization as the memory of the subterranean cave, the glowing murals, and the ancient Lydora honorifics rushed back into his mind like a tidal wave.

“Thy name, Varanus, is the truth…”

The realization hit him with the force of a falling mountain.

This was no ordinary spirit, no dream demon, nor a hallucination born of panic.

This was the God of Beast and Men.

“My… My Lord!” Naen cried out, his knees buckling beneath him as he crashed face-first onto the wet, stone ground.

Tears of intense reverence mixed with the falling rain on his cheeks as he slammed his forehead repeatedly against the rock.

“Forgive me! Forgive my hideous, arrogant insolence, Lord Varanus! I was blind! I did not recognize your divine presence!”

The distorted, tall figure stepped forward. With every step the entity took, the roaring storm seemed to fall silent, as if nature itself bowed in absolute, terrified submission to its creator.

“Rise, Naen,” the divine voice commanded softly, yet carrying an unyielding authority.

“I hold no anger toward you. In fact, I have summoned your spirit here to congratulate you. You, along with your three companions, have earned a place in my divine sight. You are my very first human followers.”

Naen slowly raised his head, shivering in deep awe as he stared up at the ethereal, radiant form.

“Because your devotion was pure and your hunger for strength was true,” the God of Beast continued, raising his glowing, mist-shrouded palm, “I have bestowed upon you a noteworthy blessing. A divine gift forged from my own domain.”

The entity looked out toward the endless, stormy horizon.

“When you awaken from this vision, your three friends shall wake at the exact same moment. The chains that once bound your weak, mortal foundations have been shattered forever. You shall return to the Emerald Purity Sect, and together, you four shall dominate it from the shadows.”

Naen felt an intoxicating surge of heat ignite inside his chest at those words.

“However, listen to my decree closely, Naen,” the voice grew solemn, dropping into a deep, serious tone that resonated into his soul. “You must obey every order given by my dedicated followers who have hidden themselves within the sect. They are my anchors in this land, preparing for the grand religious war that now sweeps across the continent. Support them, shield them, and act as their vanguard.”

“I swear it!” Naen declared fanatically, pressing his face back against the stone. “I swear on my soul, my blood, and my life, Lord Varanus! We shall follow them to the ends of the earth!”

The tall, distorted figure offered a final, echoing chuckle of satisfaction.

“Then awaken… my servant.”

The ethereal crimson luminescence flared into a blinding flash, swallowing the mountain, the rain, and the thunder whole.

The tall figure faded into the light, and the world dissolved into pure white.

***

Subterranean Cave beneath Mount Laobao.

“Hah…!”

Naen gasped violently, his body jolting upright as his eyes snapped open.

He was back inside the quiet, dim underwater cave.

The soft green luminescence embedded in the ancient murals was back to normal, flickering gently against the stone walls.

Naen sat on the slick stone floor, panting heavily as he wiped cold sweat from his forehead.

He quickly looked around the cavern.

The suffocating crimson aura had completely vanished, and Duchess Eurenia was nowhere to be seen—she had already departed, leaving the four of them behind to recover in privacy.

Beside him, Mayr, Peatyr, and Hugan were still lying unconscious on the ground.

Naen slowly pushed himself up to a standing position.

The moment his feet touched the stone floor, his entire body froze in sheer, unadulterated shock.

“What… what is this…?” Naen stammered, staring down at his hands in complete disbelief.

The change in his body was catastrophic—or rather, miraculous.

The constant, lingering fatigue that had plagued his low-tier mortal body was entirely gone.

His physical genetics had been fundamentally rewritten and altered at the deepest level; his bones felt as dense as forged steel, his senses were so sharp he could hear the individual drops of water hitting the surface of the pool thirty meters away, and his meridians were expanding like roaring rivers!

His cultivation realm had not merely improved—it had shattered straight through the upper layers of the Martial Apprentice realm, bypassed the Martial Disciple stage entirely, and consolidated firmly into the Martial Master realm!

He had leapt across two entire major cultivation boundaries in a single night!

Naen clenched his right fist, feeling the immense, crushing power rippling beneath his skin.

But it was not just raw physical power or elevated cultivation.

Deep within his spiritual sea, a newly awakened, innate ability was pulsating softly.

He closed his eyes, focusing on the newly formed divine mark inside his soul.

Active Skill: Apex Domain

It was a unique, active skill bestowed directly by the God of Beast.

A beastial passive trait that granted him absolute battle perception, allowed him to sense the precise weaknesses in any enemy’s technique, and temporarily boosted his physical strength threefold whenever he fought alongside fellow followers of Varanus.

Naen’s breath hitched as tears of profound gratitude welled up in his eyes once more.

Looking down at his sleeping brothers, he felt a fierce, burning resolve settle deep inside his heart.

The discarded, worthless outer disciple was dead.

He was now a true warrior of the Primordial God.