"LEAVE IT TO ME, BOSS!"

A starry-eyed young man broke through the Ageless Realm at the staggering age of twenty-four.

Primordial Beasts, beloved firstborn of Heaven, could freely shape the appearance of their human form upon entering the Ageless Realm.

Heavenly Beasts, on the other hand, would have the age of their human vessels set by the world: it was, as decreed by the laws, at the prime age of a human's physique, in their late twenties and early thirties. Even if their true body was thousands of years old, they'd hardly look any older than thirty as humans. Were they to miraculously transcend Mortality earlier than then, their human body would continue growing until that prime was hit.

Spirit Beasts without a considerable heritage of blood would either have to break into the Ageless Realm before the age of thirty or get stuck with increasingly decrepit human forms, unfit for battle. Just to restore them and mould them into battle-ready vessels required significant resources at the time of Ascension. Still, at least it remained possible.

Finally were the common humans, with short lifespans and fast proliferation. A species of diluted blood. Far removed from their Ancient ancestors, they had lost all grace from the Laws. Their physical age for the rest of eternity was set in stone upon Ascension, and their hair would be fully dyed a pristine white.

The young man holding the revolving galaxies in his gaze was hardly a pure human. However, he didn't harbour a bloodline blessed by the Heavens either.

Though his black hair hadn't experienced the change like other humans, his body hadn't aged a day since he ascended, falling just short of a human body's zenith.

In a way, his unprecedented feat of the earliest First Ascension had been like so immortalized.

Sixteen years after the day he Ascended, the eternal youth celebrated his fortieth birthday by assassinating a Patriarch of a certain Family.

This assassination attempt had been akin to a suicide mission so, as per usual, he had chosen to undertake the ordeal himself. Before his comrades could stop him, he had infiltrated the mansion alone. Even whilst not yet aware of his immortality, he had always been reckless like that.

Sure enough, the Patriarch was miraculously assassinated.

The hardest part would begin then.

The starry-eyed youth was closely trailed: he couldn't directly retreat to headquarters without compromising its position. To shake off his pursuers, he had even gone as far as running away to other Planes of Existence. Even then he was followed and one week later he found himself cornered.

Although the few opponents that had caught up were far below his regular self, at the time his wounds had prevented him from using the full extent of his power. Furthermore, having to run away and defend around the clock, he had neither the time nor the energy to heal himself.

By the time he finally came face to face with the wrathful avengers, who were just as tired but even more so incensed, he barely had the strength left to stand.

But then.

Just as he was about to be caught and experience hell…

'He' appeared.

A frail back that trembled as he advanced.

A cascade of violet, swaying with his every step.

The gleaming of emerald in his solemn gaze.

Purple lips arranged into a knowing smile.

A young man determined to die.

…

In the moment, the starry-eyed youth had been taken aback.

It was only later that it would dawn on him: this child, still in his late teens, was none other than the latest member to join his group of ragtag rebels.

A young man still yet to Ascend, what could that youth possibly do to stand in the way of several powerful Ageless Realm cultivators?

And yet…

Two interminable days and three everlasting nights later.

The 'weakling' still stood his ground.

Dozens, hundreds of enemies flooded him from beyond the world's boundary each morning.

A plane of existence, razed to the ground by their battle. A hurricane that, however, had a single, untouchable eye.

The third morning came. Somehow the young man's emerald eyes glowed brighter than any dawn, even as he finally fell to his knees, spent.

He had done it.

The blue-eyed youth with a starry sky in his gaze had fully recovered as the third dawn broke. The endless ocean of enemies had dried up by sunset.

…

"...How did you find me?" the starry-eyed youth had asked in puzzlement. In his arms rested the grievously injured boy. "Why would you go so far for me?"

"What do you mean 'how' and 'why', boss?" the wounded man had replied while smiling brightly. "I'm your number one stalker and self-proclaimed number one fan, boss! I have your presence memorized by every single cell in my body! Of course I'd know where you'd be! Naturally, I knew you'd be here, in this strange-looking gorge, in this strange-looking mountain range! Sorry if I was late, it took me a while to catch up to you, you ran really fast, you see! I will always find you and save you, wherever you might be, boss! Just leave it to me, boss!"

And with those words, a well-deserved rest took over him. The delight of sleeping in the arms of his dearest boss had him in utmost, palpable bliss.

Thrown off, the eternal youth could only stay as still as he could, silently healing the dreadful wounds to the best he could manage.

Many moons passed as the green-eyed boy slept. After pondering for a long time over the meaning behind the words of this child that had called him boss so enthusiastically, the blue-eyed youth had a lot of time to think.

Luck, he ultimately concluded.

Just that, and nothing more.

…

Years later, the now forty-five-year-old blue-eyed cultivator had fallen to a scheme of some formidable shrewds, had his strength sealed, and was thus caught and soon to be 'executed'.

Just as the axe was raised, a purple-haired youth, a Mortal not twenty just yet, appeared!

Without any regard for the countless injuries he received, he charged. Countless enemy cultivators moved, yet for the brief duration of that charge, he remained unstoppable!

After bathing the floor with blood, much of it his own, the young man stepped forward. A path that didn't exist, he carved out himself. And at the end of it, an astonished, starry-eyed youth in chains.

Purple lips that were uncharacteristically pale and white teeth gritted so tightly they had cracked. Ultimately, they had somehow arranged into a bright smile as he stumbled his way to his idol. Just as strength left him, he swung a final blow.

Amidst horrified, dreadful gasps, the restraints binding the Child of Prophecy shattered into countless pieces.

Having had his shackles removed, the damaged figure of the purple-haired boy lying on the ground, the blue-eyed youth slaughtered everybody present in a fit of rage.

The emerald-eyed young man: "See boss? Naturally, I knew you'd be here, in this strange-looking hall, in this strange-looking castle! Sorry if I was late, it took me a while to get past the guards outside, you see! I will always find you and save you, wherever you might be, boss! Just leave it to me, boss!"

"..."

...Once again, he had been 'lucky'.

Next time, he most likely won't have such luck.

Although by then he had an inkling he might not truly die, he would still drag others down in his place if he were to be captured! He could never bear eyes of those who followed him devoutly, just like this child's two emeralds, turning lifeless...

He would have to be more careful in the future.

…

...Again!

He had let down his guard, again!

He had been exploring an underwater ruin full of murals from a lost Era. But then, he had carelessly fallen into a sealing formation.

Alone, no guide… EH!

Honesty, what exactly was he expecting?

Ever since he confirmed his invulnerability, he had only grown more and more reckless. It was obvious it would come to bite him back someday.

Just… he hadn't expected it would be so soon. How frightening, this 'boon' of his.

And now, he was trapped in an archaic Tomb at the depths of an ocean. The starry-eyed eternal youth, then fast approaching his fifties, could only sigh as he began to meditate and conserve his energy: he could only hope for a miracle now.

Hours.

Mere hours after the activation of the death trap, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed throughout the darkness of the Tomb.

Then, a familiar cascade of purple strands hastily entered the blue-eyed youth's field of vision...

The blue-eyed man was shocked beyond words, the galaxies in his gaze revolving out of control.

He somehow managed to regain his cool.

First things first, he checked whether he could somehow grab the attention of the green-eyed youth... Negative, nothing worked. The intricate seal blocked light, sound, and smell from passing through to the outside. Even as he moved onto more refined methods, they all came short.

Ahh...

In the end, the boy would probably leave, wouldn't he?

After all, why would he ever stick around? He was not even aware of the existence of this formation. It was just by chance that he had dashed straight into this room.

Yes, that had to be it. Better brace himself now, rather than harbour any vain hope.

However, his thoughts turned out wrong: even after six days had passed, the purple-haired youth still had yet to leave the small room.

Instead, he had spent all that time scouring every inch of it, like a madman!

Looking at this unbelievable scene from behind the walls of the invisible formation, a pair of blue eyes followed the young man's movements with undisguised wonder. Finally, on the dawn of the seventh day, the youth with purple hair had figured out how to locate and deactivate the formation!

No food, no water, not blinking, not resting for seven days straight: the green-eyed young man immediately collapsed on the ground.

"Just..." The blue-eyed youth had muttered as he yet again found himself holding the youth in his arms, "How?"

So young. So weak. And yet, he always, somehow...

"See boss?" A faint whisper escaped the parched lips. "Naturally, I knew you'd be here, in this strange-looking room, in these strange-looking ruins! Sorry if I was late, it took me a while to find the switch, you see! I will always find you and save you, wherever you might be, boss! Just leave it to me, boss!"

The starry-eyed man fell silent and used a special method to allow the other to quickly fall asleep peacefully.

Only then, he allowed himself to shed a single tear. The glistening drop felt like a knife carving at his pride, yet ever more liberating.

Luck?

How could he possibly think of this as being 'Luck'?

How could he discard this child's efforts as them simply being the fruit of something as feeble as 'Luck'???

He would not insult him like this, after all that he had done and sacrificed for him.

"Leave it to you?" He chuckled bitterly and then nodded, caressing the sleeping youth. "Fine. I'm counting on you… Xiao Lan."

"You're my self-proclaimed number one fan, you say"

Drop, drop, drop.

A stream of hot tears began to fall. "Very well. I shall accept it! Because now I finally understand what it's like to have an idol..."