The Rana Clan possessed more land and resources than any other clan in the county. Its territory covered approximately 7.69 million square kilometers, stretching nearly 2,200 kilometers from east to west along the Himalayan mountain range and over 1,000 kilometers from north to south, its borders marked in places by glaciers that had never once, in living memory, fully melted.
From birth, every person awakened with a talent ranging from one to nine stars. To be born with even two stars was considered nothing short of a miracle. Such individuals were so rare that most people would never meet one in their entire lives, the number itself passed down more as legend than expectation.
The villagers worshipped Shree Yan as a child blessed by the heavens, mothers pointing him out to their children in the street as an example of what fortune, properly earned, could look like.
Only Shree Yan knew the truth. In his previous life, he had believed himself to be the greatest genius under heaven. That illusion shattered after he encountered true monsters — individuals whose talent and strength dwarfed his own, figures who had made his own considerable gifts look, in hindsight, almost pedestrian. Compared to them, he had been nothing more than an ant staring at the sky from the bottom of a well, a truth that had cost him decades to fully accept.
In the Rana World, the true source of power was the Mystical Worms.
They were not ordinary insects but spiritual beasts born from the essence of heaven and earth. Although uncommon, they could be found deep within ancient forests and forgotten mountains, in places most cultivators would never think to search. Each Mystical Worm possessed a unique ability. Some could merge with their masters, some transformed the body, while others granted extraordinary powers.
To form a bond with a Mystical Worm, one had to offer a drop of blood. Once the bond was formed, the worm and its master shared a spiritual connection. If the master died, the worm would simply escape and seek a new owner.
The master, however, could never survive the loss of life.
Because of this risk, many people feared forming contracts with Mystical Worms, the danger enough to keep most cultivators content with lesser, safer paths to power.
Some worms fed upon sunlight. Others consumed blood.
*The worm I possess is called Rana,* Shree Yan thought, standing quietly at the edge of the ceremonial hall while the murmur of gathering crowds rose steadily behind him. "It is a Blood-Attribute Mystical Worm capable of gathering information. After merging with my eyes, it allows me to perceive the hidden properties of people, beasts, treasures, and artifacts. My current cultivation is only One-Star Late Stage, so its vision is limited. However, Rana is no ordinary worm. It ranks among the Ten Supreme Mystical Worms."
Shree Yan stepped forward without the slightest change in expression, his footsteps unhurried against the polished stone floor of the hall.
Slowly, he raised his right hand, feeling the cool, ancient stone rise to meet his palm, and placed it upon the ancient awakening stone.
The stone trembled, a faint vibration traveling up through his wrist and into his arm.
A brilliant radiance erupted from its surface, flooding the hall with dazzling golden light bright enough to force several onlookers to shield their eyes. Ancient energy surged through every carved rune as the entire stone pulsed with overwhelming power, the runes themselves seeming to breathe with each new pulse of brightness.
The hall fell silent, the earlier murmur dying instantly.
Everyone stared in disbelief.
Blue.
Purple.
Violet.
Yellow.
Gold.
The colors shifted one after another before finally stopping at a magnificent golden glow, the light settling into something steady and unshifting, as though the stone itself had finally found what it was searching for.
Shree Yan's pupils contracted.
"What... just happened?" he whispered, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
In his previous life, the awakening stone had stopped at purple.
This time... everything had changed.
His gaze unconsciously fell upon the Rana Worm hidden within him, some quiet recalculation already beginning behind his composed expression.
*So... it was because of you.* The Rana Worm was originally a four-star rank worm.
And the elders couldn't find it. Shree Yan had a four-star rank worm because he couldn't use Rana's full power, and the elders couldn't sense the presence of Rana given the lower power Shree Yan currently displayed. Even if they tried to look inside his body, they couldn't. He had already set a barrier around it in his previous life, layered deep enough that even seasoned elders would find nothing but ordinary flesh and blood.
Because in his previous life he didn't want this thing falling into anyone else's hands, but fate had unexpectedly given him one chance. Was this the heavens' true choice, or was the heavens simply playing with his life for its own amusement?
An hour passed. Everyone in the hall was frozen. Their mouths hung shockingly open, breath forgotten in throats too stunned to remember how to swallow.
"Miracle!"
A young man roared, the single word cracking loud enough to finally break the hall's silence.
"Miracle! He is a miracle, he is a genius!" The young man praised him, others quickly taking up the cry around him.
This moment, for every young generation and elder alike, was a brilliant moment — to witness, in this era, the future of the clan taking shape before their very eyes. To have been born in this era at all suddenly felt, to many watching, like its own kind of fortune.
Stars are the essence of the Rana world and universe.
Where there is a star, there is Essence. Where the stars disappear, the universe itself begins to wither.
Shree Yan had finished his awakening test. He turned around and started walking forward, calm as water, his expression betraying nothing of the calculations still turning quietly behind his eyes.
"Brother Shree Yan, please become my husband!"
*He is so handsome.*
*He is so attractive.*
"Brother Shree Yan, please marry me!" Young ladies started calling out from the crowd, several pressing forward against the barrier of guards holding the onlookers back.
"Brother He Meng, look at him — he is calm, he didn't show emotion even achieving that, in a thousand years people could only imagine achieving it," Hu Meng said to He Meng, leaning close enough to be heard over the growing noise.
"Yes, this kid is too impressive — he doesn't show his emotion, he has no attitude about this at all. Interesting," He Meng replied, watching Shree Yan's retreating back with narrowed, calculating eyes.
A young girl entered the ceremony hall, calling for her mother, her small voice carrying clear and sharp across the noise, ringing all the way to the awakening hall's inner chamber.
After hearing "Mother," Shree Yan fell down, his knees buckling without warning, the golden light of his triumph forgotten entirely in an instant.
Elders, youngsters, the Metal Brothers, Elder Tanzeng — all were shocked and confused, several rising abruptly from their seats. The examination Elder immediately called for security and spoke, urgency cutting sharp through his usually measured tone, "Quickly send him to his house and call the healers!"
Darkness. Darkness.
*"Mother… Mother, where are you?*
*I'm scared, Mother… Why is there so much ominous darkness here?*
*Mother… what should I do now?*
*Mother, I'm hungry…*
*I'm trying to talk to you, but I can't.*
*Mother… I can't move my body.*
*I miss you so much…*
*Mother, am I deaf? Why can't I hear your voice?*
*Mother… my whole body hurts so much, but I can't reach you.*
*Mother…*
*Please… pat my hair like you used to.*
*Just like before…"*
He was surrounded by ominous darkness, trapped in the smallest room, the walls pressing close enough that even in dream he could feel their suffocating nearness against his skin. His mother wasn't there, wasn't ever with him in the room. This was just his imagination, though even knowing that changed nothing — he still thought she was with him, some desperate, childlike part of his mind refusing to let the fiction go.
He cannot speak, he cannot hear, he cannot move, he cannot see, anything. He can only think, and can speak only in his mind, the silence total and absolute in every direction.
"Arrgghhhhh!" He woke up from the dream of his previous modern life, gasping, sheets tangled damp around his legs. He suddenly started breathing fast, chest heaving as though he'd just surfaced from beneath deep water.
Breath! Breath! Breath!
After hearing the roar of Shree Yan's pain, a new servant came quickly, sandals slapping hurriedly against the floor outside. She was young, like 17 years old, the same age as Shree Yan. She had medium-length, slightly disheveled hair, as though she'd washed it recently and hadn't fully dried it before rushing to his side. Her name was Ying Ner.
"Young master, young master, are you okay?" she asked, kneeling quickly beside the bed, her expression scared, hands hovering uncertainly near his shoulder.
"Please take this pill," she said to Shree Yan, holding out a small, pale tablet cradled carefully in her palm.
Shree Yan raised his hand, still trembling faintly, and took the pill from Ying Ner's hands.
"Young master, are you feeling good now?" There was pure concern for him in her eyes, unguarded in a way few in this house ever allowed themselves to be around him.
Shree Yan's eyes slowly cleared, the last fog of the dream finally releasing its grip. He looked at her and said, "Ying Ner..."