The Awakening of Aizen

Heavenly Demon Clan, located in the northeast of the Central Plains, is the leader of the demonic Sorcery arts in the world. It frequently produces evil figures who bring chaos to the world, and thus, it is rejected by those of the righteous path.

At the Black Wind Cliff in the western courtyard of the Heavenly Demon Clan, the mountain winds howled on this particular day, and the morning fog gathered and then dispersed.

At dawn, Aizen woke up. He rose, opened the window, and took a look at the scenery outside. After a brief wash, he put on his coat and stepped out of his small thatched hut.

The cold mountain wind greeted him as he stepped outside, the long gusts howling through the air.

Aizen cast a glance at the sheer cliff that pierced the clouds on his right. At the summit of that mountain was the Black Wind Cliff, where the inner disciples of the western courtyard of the Heavenly Demon Clan practiced their Sorcerer arts every morning on a massive platform.

At this moment, faint sounds of the inner disciples' practice could already be heard.

"Inner disciples…"

A glint of determination flashed in Aizen's eyes, but it quickly faded.

He looked at the faint white streak at the horizon, hastened his pace, and crossed the residential area of the thatched huts, arriving at a slightly wider stone-paved mountain road.

He wore simple, clean gray clothes, and although his face looked young and fresh, it bore a unique air of maturity and steadiness. His long eyebrows that slanted toward his temples gave him an inexplicable heroic presence.

Along the way, other young men in the same gray attire emerged from the other huts, but none of them possessed the unique aura of Aizen.

Suddenly, a heart-wrenching scream came from the side of the road ahead.

As Aizen approached, he saw two gray-clad youths kneeling on the ground, trembling. A middle-aged man, also dressed in gray, was pinned to the ground by an iron sword, with fresh red blood flowing from his hand, which was nailed to the earth.

Despite the pain, the middle-aged man did not dare to resist.

The iron sword's hilt was currently held by a slim, short-headed man with a sinister expression.

Aizen slowed his pace and silently skirted around the scene. The stench of fresh blood made his gaze turn cold, but he had no intention of stepping forward or involving himself in this cruel moment.

With a heavy thud, the slim man yanked the sword from the ground and kicked the middle-aged man off the mountain cliff.

Another shrill and prolonged scream echoed from the ravine below, only to abruptly stop.

Aizen and the other gray-clad youths walked past the scene indifferently, the blood-soaked murder no longer visible behind them. However, the sounds of more rapid screams and the thudding of bodies being kicked down the ravine followed them.

"Listen up! These three dared to slack off yesterday and didn't chop enough firewood. I followed Steward Edric's orders and executed them as a warning. Anyone else who dares to slack off will meet the same fate…"

The killer's taunting voice echoed in the wind, mixing with the howls, as though a demon were laughing madly.

Without saying a word, Aizen walked toward the cluster of buildings not far ahead.

The killer was just like Aizen—only a lowly servant of the Heavenly Demon Clan. However, he had aligned himself with Steward Edric, becoming a tyrant in this servant area. This wasn't the first time he had done such a thing, and those who resisted were already dead.

In the Heavenly Demon Clan, human lives held value, but the life of an ordinary servant was worth little more than that of an ant.

When Aizen arrived at the small square in front of the buildings, a middle-aged man dressed in black with red cuffs spoke up.

"You're all here. Today's task is to chop ten bundles of firewood. You lot, go fetch water from the mountain stream. Aizen, you're to sweep the grounds."

He casually tossed a broom to Aizen.

The other gray-clad youths looked on with schadenfreude and quickly dispersed to complete their tasks.

As the lowest-ranking servants of the Heavenly Demon Clan, they weren't even considered disciples. They had to perform dirty tasks every day just to survive.

Becoming a disciple of the Heavenly Demon Clan?

That was a distant dream unless one made a significant contribution or was personally promoted by an elder or steward. Otherwise, one had to work as a servant for three full years before being eligible for disciplehood and the opportunity to learn Sorcery arts.

Aizen took the broom from the black-clad, red-cuffed man without a word. Although he harbored a burning anger inside, he had long grown accustomed to hiding his emotions.

The middle-aged man sneered at Aizen before turning to leave, "Aizen, I'll say it again. As long as you behave like a dog, I'll forget the past. Don't think that Lilith protecting you means I can't do anything to you."

He laughed coldly and left with confident strides.

Aizen straightened up, his back as straight as a spear. The suppressed fury inside him made him clench the broom tightly.

As a lowly servant of the Heavenly Demon Clan, he had to do all sorts of heavy and dirty tasks, but sweeping the grounds was the hardest job.

While chopping firewood or fetching water seemed straightforward, sweeping the vast grounds of the buildings took an immense amount of time and effort.

Other servants would finish their tasks of chopping firewood or carrying water after a short while, but Aizen was stuck with the grueling task of cleaning the expansive courtyard.

Aizen let out a long breath and began sweeping the ground.

There was no choice. The man who gave the orders, Steward Edric, was a disciple of the Heavenly Demon Clan.

Although he was only the lowest-ranking disciple, he was in charge of this area's servants and held some authority.

More importantly, the man had learned basic Sorcery arts from the Clan, so even if Aizen felt anger, he had no way to resist.

Thinking back on his journey to this world, Aizen felt as though it had happened in another lifetime.

This was a world of Sorcery arts—more specifically, the same world as a Clan from a game he used to play in his previous life.

He had merely been playing a game called "Dragon Heroes" when his computer screen flashed, sparks flew from his mouse, and he was shocked unconscious.

When he woke up, he found himself in this strange yet oddly familiar Sorcery arts world.

It had been six months since he arrived in this world.

In this world, sorcerers differ greatly from the typical image of spellcasters known in other realms. Here, a sorcerer's role extends far beyond casting spells and manipulating magic. They combine sorcery arts with forbidden techniques, unleashing devastating powers that fuse magic with physical strength. Mastery of the sword arts allows them to become formidable warriors, capable of engaging enemies in close combat, using sorcery to enhance both their offensive and defensive skills. Moreover, they possess deep knowledge of potions and elixirs, capable of boosting their magical and physical abilities or even manipulating their enemies with enchanted toxins. This unique blend of skills makes the sorcerers of this world versatile and deadly, able to adapt to any situation—whether through spell, blade, or potion.

But now, after being transported to this Sorcery arts world, he had become nothing more than a lowly servant who didn't even know any Sorcery arts.

He didn't even know his surname, for he had been nothing more than a nameless servant without status or place.

Aizen sighed and looked at the red sun rising in the sky. Calculating the time, he stopped his monotonous sweeping, his eyes narrowing slightly. Suddenly, a message flashed before his retina and directly into his mind.

"Countdown to the activation of the Demonic Wisdom System: 0 hours, 32 minutes, and 31 seconds."