The legendary warrior

At the very beginning of time, the whole universe was in chaos. It was only a pitch black, piercingly chilly immeasurable expanse.

It stayed like that for millions and millions of years until one of the gods decided to act again, came to this world, and opened up land. At long last, the earth took shape with an abundance of light, spirit and even life. Afterwards, the god acted again, choosing to divide the earth into four parts and spreading our ancestors across the continents.

Once settled, the industrious ancestors of modern men soon embarked on one of the most ambitious explorations, which in due time would lead to breakthroughs in cultivation methods. At last, they developed land enough for the species to flourish and not simply exist.

From that time on, the species began to live and spread across the four continents, namely the Pure East, the Bleak West, the Misty South, and the Vast North. .

The Misty South included all the territory of the Stone City, which was inhabited by several prominent clans, including the Nan Clan.

The Nan Clan's dominance was in part due to its success in martial arts among the top three clans across the city. Besides, the clan's way of life also favored large families. In general, their section of the city was always abuzz. But tonight, the atmosphere was far more charged after the announcement that Nate would be crowned their next leader today. Nate was loved, both for his talent and charm among the people.

Compared to the bustling Nan Clan, the small shabby yard in the west appeared to be a little ill-adapted. A fair-skinned young man, who was somewhat troubled out of sorts, was sitting on the roof of the small yard. Looking at the bustling Nan Clan, he knitted his eyebrows tightly, a tinge of hatred slightly reflected from his glassy eyes.

With a sneer, he blurted out what was going through his mind. "Brotherhood? Clan? It is utterly ridiculous!" As he grumbled, he flatly smiled on impulse. Beneath his skinny, feeble frame, anger consumed him like a big, terrifying beast. As if under a spell, violent current jolted him, leaving his hands clasped so tightly that the fingernails cut into the flesh. He only realized it when blood began dripping on his palms.

This was Ricky Nan. Like Nate Nan, he was also a young talented master from the Nan Clan. In any way, he was much as Nate. Moreover, they had been bosom buddies, almost like blood brothers. The two young talented masters of Nan Clan enjoyed as much respect as those at the sixth grade of Skin Refinement.

However, everything was completely different now. Ricky had lost all his cultivation base and was now merely at the first grade of Skin Refinement. Thus, he was not a young talented master anymore, but a jerk in everyone's eyes.

All this was Nate's fault. Despite their close friendship right from childhood, Nate, set as the successor of Nan Clan, now treated Ricky like a stranger. And Gilbert, Nate's father, currently the Dominant Top Elder, was no better either.

Previously, Ricky's father had as well served as Dominant Top Elder. But one year ago, while on duty for the Nan Clan, he was raided by masked men. In that heinous attack, the clan suffered untold loss, including the deaths of dozens of outstanding disciples and almost a third of the clan's property.

father as Dominant Top Elder and dumped him into prison on

falls, the monkeys scatter." Those who had avidly followed Ricky's father crossed over to other camps in Clan in succession hierarchy. To serve their new masters, the defectors had even deprived Ricky

meridians ranked from one-star to nine-star in ascending order.

fell subordinate

the old man had whispered a secret to

realized how unfair life could get in his clan. No matter how significant your contributions for the good of the clan, only one mistake could erase your name and send you to disgrace. For Ricky and his father, their lowest moment was made worse by the fact that Nate - a once close friend, had turned to betrayal and malice. Despite the previously sworn brotherhood, Nate was now the worst enemy, with his

should have deserved!" Ricky, still perching on the roof, solemnly swore to himself when he heard the endless bustling and celebration of Nate's coronation.

roof and landed on the ground of the yard with a thud. Then, he straightly walked towards a wooden pile, swinging his fist back and forth towards the pile,

him no cultivation base, he had worked hard in honing his skills back again. By now, he had recovered enough to reach the peak of the first grade of Skin Refinement. Not an

stupidity. Ricky was just a diligent guy. Although he had lost his spiritual meridian, he believed there was hope for

wielded his fists back and forth in front of the pile. In particular, he concentrated on perfecting his Whiz Fist, a Yellow Level intermediate cultivation method. The louder the whiz sound, the stronger the

absolutely necessary for warriors. Those who mastered skills had

while the Heaven Level was the highest. Ricky had no idea if there was any level higher than the Heaven Level. But

a fist move, he was contemplating how to raise enough whizzing to enhance his

cultivation, Ricky, in fact, had figured out how to bring the might of his fists into full play for quite a long period. But now, the might of his Whiz Fist appeared quite weak. Of course, he knew it was because that he almost didn't have

into play. However high the level a cultivator had reached, a warrior's physical strength depended

it was needful to have blood vitality replenished by cultivation and food, especially meat and blood. However, it was also reported among the more spiritually inclined that a powerful master could directly

a humble, less spiritually endowed young master. Even worse, after his father's fall from grace, it was even impossible for the clan to offer him cultivation resources

Skin Refinement and physically weak in his current situation, there was no hope in sight that he would get anything. At this rate, it was likely he would end up neglected, ostracized and left to die a slow painful death from hunger. If not, then there was the chance of

the mere thought of the grim realities ahead, his anger, like a pot of brew, began to boil. In

that I'm going