Becoming Stronger? Nah, Diary Writing

Cultivation.

An act, that many mortals desperately seeked, as well as a road that those who practise it become infatuated with. A path to ascension, that will eventually lead to immortality. A passage - that leads to strength.

It was a route, brimming with corruption. One that would turn the most kind-hearted fellows, into uncontrollable beasts. Lost within the scent of madness. A thorny, but fruitful path. A fulfilling, yet lonely road.

Such was the world of Cultivation. A dog eat dog world, where only the strong survive. That was the law of a jungle, staying forever true. The weak, get vanquished. Whilst the strong, may find themselves within a dream that lasts eternity. It was one where you could never know when you would die.

That was all the reason as to why Cultivators where so obsessed with the fruit of immortality. To not fear death. Especially since already taken a sip of forsaken ambrosia - strength. It was as if you were experiencing the taste of comfort and rest for the first time. But instead of enjoying yourself thoroughly, you were at constant fear of it dissapearing as if it never existed.

A severe case of paranoia that most cultivators suffered from.

Yet, no matter where you walked. Where you lingered, exceptions always remained. Geniuses, who disregard psychological troubles and stay above the masses. That lead. Those who keep their sanity, and don't lose themselves on the path of Godhood.

Whether it be their temperance, or demeanour. Their lust, nor pride.

There was only one thing that separated them from the ordinary folk. To continue down that trodden path -

The determination to not bend against Heaven's Will.

Such was the case for every genius, that had stepped onto the path of Cultivation. Their constant thirst for strength, and self improvement keeping them grounded. Striving.

That was the singular law that every being followed. A rule, that had never been broken.

That was until a boy named Shen Tian revealed himself to the world.

* * *

Sat upon the highest peak, lay a figure. His shimmering raven hair, that hung to his shoulders, singing to nature's will. Stygian locks, that framed his face as a smile graced his impeccable features.

Alongside his pure, white robe that fluttered against the winds that assaulted his lonesome silhouette, the man looked akin to a solitary immortal. Sure to evoke the feelings of smpathy of any woman. However for those that knew his identity - a scowl may find itself on some of their faces instead.

Shen Tian.

The saint of the Heavenly Sword Sect. One of the three geniuses that will lead the era of immortality, as well as the next Heir of one of the top three Sects.

Such immense titles would be sure enough to arouse any emotions, whether it be positive or negative. Envy or awe.

However, when presented with the name Shen Tian, any sensations or feelings the title gave them would immediately dissipate. All due to being well known for quite a few actions, that acquired the anger of quite a few sects, and quite a few enemy disciples.

When walking through the path of ascension, one has to walk the path of a Dao and stay true to their belief. Whether it be the road of no emotions, or cruelty. War, or love. All for the sake of power. Even the kindest of humans, may end up turning into demons. A rule that most proved true.

Alas, those very laws that binded them didn't apply to Shen Tian. He done what he pleased, and fought who he wanted to fight. No matter status, race, gender, or background. It was to the point, where he once jumped a couple disciples of the Devil Sect, laughed at their faces, and stripped them down to their underwear.

As quoted: "Sacrifice is needed for greater good. Luckily for me, you guys are the sacrifices!"

That was who the one named Shen Tian represented. A man that many love yet hate. Admire, but reproach. He truly wasn't what his appearance presented to he. A benevolent, and soft-hearted warrior.

If anything he was more of a mischievous devil. An unorthodox Cultivator. Unbefitting, of the demeanour that most disciples of the Heavenly Sword Sect possessed.

However, other than that there was only one than that annoyed them more than any other quality he contained. A trait, that caused most Cultivators to wail at the unfairness of the situation.

It was the fact, that the stubborn, unethical, irritating youth becomes stronger than his previous self. Even when messing around!

A talent, that caused most Elders to lose their hair and spout blood of sheer jealousy. Especially when knowing that the little devil will only grow stronger and stronger as time passes by. Until he was unparalleled under the heavens!

The only ones that could compete with the genius who slept in the mortal world, would be none other than the two other saints of the remaining top three sects.

The Saintess of the Ethereal Snow Sect - Xiao Xiaoli. A fairy, that walked the Dao of Ice and Snow. As well as a cultivator of the orthodox side.

The Saint of the Merciless Devil Sect - Liang Tao. A cruel, unorthodox cultivator that doesn't hesitate one bit to rip apart his enemies. Befitting of the nature of cultivators who abondon the Qi of heaven. As well as the morality of humans. Even so, who were they to judge?

After all, in the end the side of good and evil was all a hoax. It was subjective, based on personal opinion. Unfortunately, for the unorthodox their way was to be seen as wicked. That is the fate that happens when the majority overwhelm the minority anyhow.

Although the orthodox and unorthodox sects should be at odds, finding each other utterly detestable. Although they should have never worked together in the first place due to their opposing nature's.

They shared one common trait among themselves that bound them. A thread, so light but heavy - that made the Saint of the Merciless Devil Sect, and the Saintess of the Ethereal Snow Sect join hands -

Their insatiable hatred for Shen Tian.

"It's a sin to be loved this much."

Leaning his head backwards, the youth let out a gentle sigh of acceptance. His figure, cloaked by the petals of roses that descended from the blossoming orchid tree. The clouds flowing alongside the hymn of fate as Shen Tian gazed languidly upon them. An untraceable emotion passing through his golden eyes.

However, those once fleeting moments vanished as he suddenly bounced upwards. His hands, rubbing off any dirt or marks his robes once held meticulously. An overwhelming aura, that threatened to pressure everything around him, seeping from the youth's body.

"Ah? I guess I've reached the middle stages of foundation establishment." he remarked, with slight intrigue. "Anyhow, I think it's time for my daily challenge."

Stretching his lithe figure, Shen Tian began to slightly groan before sitting down once again. His mind, drifting to recount the reason as to why he was where he was today. Contrary to popular beliefs, Shen Tian held a cavernous secret. Although his current strength was due to his efforts alone, his meteoric rise was due to his immense...venting!

Putting a hand over his chin, as if to grasp an imaginary beard he has not yet developed, the boy slowly thought to himself. Eyes shutting, as the symphony of the winds harmonised within his ear.

It all started on a rainy summer day, a couple days ago. His handsome self, as always, was drinking his sorrows away due to the constant berating of his tyrannical master. A demonic being that many hesitated to fight against.

However, he was not part of the majority. A follower of the herd. A coward that is afraid to fight for his freedom. After all, he was Shen Tian. The incomparable Saint of the Heavenly Sword Sect!

With a sword in hand, and a robe in tow. The man clawed his way to the home of the demonic being. His once pristine, unadulterated cloak bathed in crimson. As his handsome face was rugged from the raw, brutal battles. His body felt feeble; fragile even. Yet his indomitable spirit never broke!

It was only when he reached the final peak. The mountain beyond the highest mountain. The heaven, above the highest heaven, he caught a glimpse of that wretched being. One gaze. A single sight, was enough to plow the man away. His face bruised and battered. His clothes, torn to miniscule shreds!

It was his most humiliating moment. A scenery, that was forever seared in his psyche. Eternally marked in his brain, to be never forgotten. A memory, that would forever haunt him.

With his body laying on the moist ground. Alongside the faint rhythm of his heart, the boy was nearly forced to give up his Dao. His cultivator's way.

However, on the verge of collapsing. On the brink of failure. A golden light descended upon him. Blinding his sight gold. His vision yellow. Forced to shut his eyes, the mighty Shen Tian grumbled. His heart, unwilling to ascend to the afterlife.

'Is this the end?'

With pessimistic thoughts, clouding his mind like unwanted evocation, the boy released his hold. Accepting, his unfortunate fate. Thus he waited. And waited. And waited even more, expecting the eventual pull upwards to greet the cycle of reincarnation.

It was only when he opened his eyes, he found himself still very much alive. His body still tattered, yet his indomitable spirit became ever more unbreakable.

However, when everything seemed all and well. All regular and ordianry. A diary appeared before his very sight. Its pages flipped. Runic writings, embroidered on its sheets. Akin to a song of the Gods. A hymn of destiny.

Instinctively, the man reached for the book. As if he was a moth drawn to a flame. A bee, enchanted by a flower. It was natural, as if it was almost meant to be.

The moment he touched the diary, the voices of a thousand souls assaulted him. The thought of the present, past, future. The whispers of fate, destiny, and time.

"Write and grow. Sing and prosper. Do so, and you shall become unparalleled."

With those words said, they swiftly disappeared like the light in a cave. The flame in a cold winter morning. The clothes, of an infatuated - not that...

Everything aside, the boy listened and wrote all his grievances within his book. A place only he could read. A diary, only he could read. It was his solace. His salvation. The more he wrote, the more gifts he obtained. Becoming stronger and stronger, until even the heavens themselves couldn't bind him down no further!

From then on, he was known as Heavenly Emperor - Shen Tian. The man who ruled the world.

Or so his imagination went. When in fact, it proceeded nowhere near that...

"Now that I think about that day, I feel quite aggrieved." he whispered, agony tinged in his voice. "You know what, I know exactly who to write about!"

On that fateful day, the tragic tale of Shen Tian - truly began.