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Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God

Earth has undergone an odd change. Expanding by millions of times its original size, its population was suddenly split into two halves. On one side, there was a group of technologically advanced humans. But, on the other, a world of cultivation had grown and pospered. The secrets that led to this change have been hidden in the darkness for too long... Until there came a day where a boy born on the Mortal side of the world was found to have the talent to enter the Martial side. Having lost both of his parents to a hidden tide, he chose to leave all that he had known behind and enter this land of danger. What truths would he unveil? What would he learn about what separated the Mortals from the Cultivators? What hidden evils wanted to ensure that his people never rose up and gained power? And how would those evils... deal with him? ---- This list of things I hate is quite long. The first is that I hate to be tested the most. The second is that I hate to be tested the most. The third also happens to be that I hate to be tested the most. The ocean's depths are too shallow, the sun's light too dim, the ground too mundane and the skies too small. For those born of this colorless world to deem themselves worthy of casting judgement on me... I can only say that it's laughable. I am the Nameless Immortal God because even the Heavens themselves are unworthy to name me. Even while I am unaware of my own identity, I will dry the oceans until cracked land is all that is left, I will cast the sun into endless darkness, I will shatter the ground with my feet and sunder the skies with my blade. Am I too arrogant? What right do you have to think that? --- https://discord.gg/awespec

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Hopes

There was a reason the heavens gave creatures so much time to cultivate. It takes time to accumulate wisdom and comprehension… It takes time to build an impenetrable dao heart. And, even then, it can crumble given enough time…

This wasn't even the worst of it. Dyon hadn't spent 40 years living life. He spent half of his life in a trial, fighting for his life. He spent nearly another three to five years unconscious. He even spent his childhood locked up in a room filled with computer screens, hiding away from the truth of his dead parents.

All Dyon knew was fighting and pain. Even his wives, the small blips of happiness in his life, were exactly that, small blips. The amount of time they had to make an impact on him, to show him that there was something beyond the pain, was minimal…