Legend of Icaros

Finally, it all ends – was the last thought that lingered in Icaros's mind as the scorching flames of the sun submerged him completely. Waves of heat rolled over his figure like ocean tides against a shore, each one searing deeper than the last. He felt his life slip away as images of his life flashed before his eyes: the first time he'd touched down on Earth's soil, feeling the cool grass beneath his feet; the faces of humans he'd saved from collapsing cities and falling stars; the final clash with Malakor, his brother's eyes burning with the same cosmic fire that lit his own.

"A long one, but it still ends," Icaros said, his voice barely a whisper against the sun's roaring inferno. His body began to dissolve into shimmering particles of light in the overwhelming heat – then there was nothing but blankness, a void as quiet and empty as the space where he'd been born.

For what felt like an eternity, there was only darkness. Then light flashed around him in brilliant, shifting hues he'd never seen on Earth, and the rustling sound of boots pressing against damp forest ground assailed his senses. The air carried scents he didn't recognize – rich with the smell of damp earth, unfamiliar flowers, and a faint, electric undercurrent that made the hair on his neck stand on end. Trying to shrug off the disturbance, Icaros curled up on the soft bed of moss and fallen leaves beneath him and held his head, his temples throbbing with a dull ache. "Why is there so much noise after dying? Is this my punishment – to be haunted by the sounds of living things when I can no longer join them?" But a powerful, curious thought jolted him awake, cutting through the fog of confusion: What if I am not dead?

He snapped his eyes open – not to the blinding white of sunlight, but to a warm, steady glow emitted by crystalline orbs held by a circle of men surrounding him. The orbs cast dancing shadows across towering trees with bark like polished stone and leaves that shimmered like metal in the soft light. Still trying to make sense of things, Icaros slowly sat up, his muscles feeling heavier than they had in millennia – as if some force was pressing down on him from all sides. Then a question from one of the men, dressed in flowing robes of deep blue and gray unlike anything he'd seen on Earth, threw him into further confusion:

"What sect are you from?"

"Sect?" Icaros muttered, staring blankly at the speaker – an expression his face had long forgotten how to make, having spent ages as a being who always knew more and was more capable than those around him. His gaze drifted over the group: five men in total, their postures tense but not hostile, their eyes moving between him and the dense forest that stretched out in every direction.

"He doesn't even know what a sect is!" one of the men – thin with sharp features and a mocking smile – joked loudly. The others erupted in raucous laughter; some tried to stifle it behind their hands, but failed to contain their amusement. "He must have serious memory loss," another chipped in smugly, adjusting the plain cloth belt around his waist. All laughed except the man who seemed to be their leader, who stood a step apart from the rest with his back straight and shoulders squared.

He wore a blue robe covered by a full-body armor in an ancient style, forged from a silver-gray metal that caught the orb light and gleamed with a subtle blue sheen, with a sword at his waist whose hilt was wrapped in dark leather and set with a small, glowing stone. While the others had only plain grey robes, this man's attire spoke of status and training.

"Shut up, you fools," he said in a flat tone that carried no room for argument. The men hurried to apologize, bowing their heads and showering him with quick words of flattery that revealed their low status beside him.

"Can't you see he was unconscious when we found him, slumped against that great ironwood tree? He doesn't look well – his clothes are torn to shreds, and there's dust on him that looks like it came from a battlefield close away.

With the local fighting between the mortals here, he's probably a survivor who wandered into our path." He finished with a hint of smugness, straightening his robes as if praising his own cleverness.

As Icaros considered how to respond – knowing nothing of sects or clans but sensing that honesty might bring more trouble than it was worth – the five men began urging him to thank their leader, whispering urgently. Icaros took the hint; he didn't want trouble in a world he knew nothing about, especially not when he still couldn't understand why he was alive or where he was. He bowed slightly, keeping his movements deliberate and unthreatening, and said: "Thank you for saving my life. I am indebted to you."

The young man nodded in satisfaction, his chest puffing out a little with pride. "Good. You seem sensible enough. Keep him at the back – in case of attacks. We still have half a day's time,to complete our mission,before returning to the Li Sect, and the forest grows dangerous the more deeper we go."

"Yes, Young Master!" they replied in unison. One man – shorter than the rest, with kind eyes that stood out among the group – stepped forward and led Icaros to the rear of the formation as they set off, their boots crunching on the leaf-strewn path.

Icaros blinked rapidly, trying to process everything at once. Flew into the sun out of guilt over Malakor... woke up in a strange world with trees that shine like metal... mistaken for a war survivor. If he'd been in a war on Earth, he'd have survived easily – but only as the victor, standing over armies that couldn't hope to match his strength and prowess. A small smirk crept onto his face unknowingly as he thought of it. One of the men ahead – the sharp-featured one who'd mocked him earlier – glanced back and caught sight of it, thinking silently: How can a war survivor smile? He should be crying, or trembling with fear. The Young Master might be wrong about him, but who am I to say so? His face fell into a worried frown, but a sudden commotion up ahead cut off his thoughts.

"Look at that! These beast tracks are strange – I've never seen anything like them!"

The four men gathered around a set of prints in the soft dirt of the path. The tracks were very large, with six clawed toes and a pattern of ridges that seemed to glow faintly in the shade. The Young Master squatted in front of them, brows furrowed in deep thought as he ran a finger along the edge of one print.

Icaros moved closer to get a better look, his enhanced vision picking out details the others missed – traces of a dark, viscous substance on the ground nearby that smelled of rot and lightning. But before he could speak, his enhanced hearing caught a sound no one else noticed: a low, guttural growl from high above, followed by the rush of air displaced by something large moving through the trees. A dark shadow leaped from the branches, its body covered in scales like black obsidian, claws outstretched and glinting like blades, aimed straight at the Young Master's unprotected back.

The leader's hand moved toward his sword hilt, but time seemed to slow – the men's faces were frozen in shock, their mouths open but no sound coming out. Then a loud BOOM! echoed through the forest as the beast crashed into a stand of ironwood trees, splintering their thick trunks like twigs.

The Young Master stood with his sword drawn, its blade gleaming with a pale blue light; the others were poised to attack, their hands reaching for knives at their waists. All stared in shock at the man who'd struck the beast down with a single punch – the "war survivor" they'd found moments before, standing a few feet away with his fist slightly raised.

"Careful!" the Young Master shouted, his voice sharp with warning as he leaped into the air with his sword raised high behind Icaros.

His blade sliced cleanly through the monster's tough hide, splitting it in two with a spray of dark blood. A bloodthirsty grin crossed his face at the thrill of combat – but what he saw from the corner of his eye cooled his excitement instantly. Icaros hadn't moved from his spot, but his arm had plunged straight through the skull of a second beast of the same species that had crept up from the other side, its body still twitching as dark liquid dripped from his fist to the ground.

The Young Master landed as gracefully as a crane settling on a branch, his sword held ready as he circled Icaros slowly.

"Who are you?" he asked, squinting at Icaros with a serious gaze that replaced his earlier smugness, his eyes now sharp and assessing.

"Just a local war survivor," Icaros replied, pulling his arm free and wiping the dark substance on his torn clothes, his tone calm and even.

"No – you're more than that. That wasn't the strength of any ordinary cultivator, or even a skilled warrior. Li Han, round everyone up. We're heading back now – at full speed."

The man called Li Han – the one who'd led Icaros to the rear – started to speak, likely to argue about pushing their pace so hard, but a cold glare from the Young Master silenced him instantly. "Yes, Young Master," he mumbled, his face dark with frustration as he began herding the other men together.

Afternoon sun shone over the vast Li Sect, its thousands of buildings climbing up the slopes of a great mountain that pierced through the clouds above. White walls gleamed like snow against the green of surrounding forests, and streams of clear water cascaded down stone channels into pools that glowed with the same electric energy Icaros had felt in the air. Clouds draped the sky like a soft gray blanket, but suddenly, they parted to reveal the bow of a massive flying vessel – shaped like a great ship without wings,possibly powered by something else, enormous by Earth's standards and made of the same silver-gray metal as the Young Master's armor. It glided silently toward the sect's grand gates, where white banners bearing the symbol of a rising blue energy ball flutered in the wind.

"The Young Master has returned!" an armored guard shouted from atop the gatehouse, his voice carrying across the courtyard below through magic that made it ring like a bell.

Moments later, as the ship prepared to enter the sect grounds, strange drums began to beat in a deep, rhythmic pattern from towers at each corner of the wall. Following the tune, a vast, bowl-shaped light screen – invisible until now, but shimmering with rainbow hues where it caught the sun – appeared to shield the entire sect from top to bottom. It parted just enough to let the ship pass through, then sealed shut at incredible speed before fading back into invisibility entirely. Anyone who hadn't seen it with their own eyes would never know it was there.

Icaros stood at the bow of the flying vessel, his clothes tattered. Deimos led the way, while four men – whom Icaros assumed were controlling the craft – worked at the controls nearby. He tried to close his gaping jaw, but couldn't help staring in awe.

"No nation on Earth has this kind of grandeur – or at least none I've seen."

As his gaze swept over the vast, majestic Li Sect, the vessel began to descend. Icaros's mind drifted back to what had happened after he'd displayed his strength: when he'd killed one of the attacking beasts, Deimos hadn't been wary of him – instead, he'd been overjoyed.

"To take down a Grade C beast so casually..." Deimos had said, then proposed that Icaros join the Li Sect, explaining they were one of the world's four great super powers.

Icaros had agreed reluctantly. "I don't know anything about this world," he'd thought. "Besides, I can always leave if things go wrong." A smug look crossed his face, but faded quickly as he recalled the protective screen, the advanced craft, and Deimos's finely crafted weapon.

"But I don't have much choice right now," he conceded. "I need to lie low and learn as much as I can – so I'm not caught off guard again. Deimos could have handled that beast on his own. I suppose protecting Earth's fragile humans for so long left me with a protective instinct... one I'll need to suppress to survive here."

At the thought of Earth, and his brother Malakor – whom he'd killed to save humanity – his expression darkened. He pushed the pain and confusion deep into his heart.

The ship touched down in an open clearing, a kilometer from a grand hall adorned with intricate carvings of mythical beasts and roofs that gleamed like polished jade.

"This small drop should be nothing for someone with your strength," Deimos said with a familiar smug tone. He leaped casually from the ship's deck and landed lightly on the ground, leaving Icaros with an unsuppressible urge to slap him. Though he'd chosen to lie low, he didn't want to draw more attention to himself. He stepped off the vessel, letting gravity pull him down. As he fell, he thought of how he'd usually fly rather than walk, recalling his first days on Earth. He smiled, then landed with a heavy thud, his posture rigid and unbent.

Deimos nodded with a smile, but just as he was about to say something, a calm yet booming voice reached their ears – loud enough to carry clearly, but not so loud as to be harsh.

"Deimos, you're back from your little mission, and I see you've brought a friend." The voice was followed by a light chuckle, and the hall's massive doors – more like miniature gates of architectural marvel – swung open with a resounding bang.

"Wow... columns that stretch up so high, carvings that seem to move in the light," Icaros couldn't help but think as he followed behind Deimos. "Why isn't he surnamed Li, like the man Li Han from the forest,and they are from the same li sect?" His thoughts wandered, but were soon interrupted.

"Father, indeed I'm back from my little adventure – and this new friend won't disappoint,unlike the rest."

Father! Icaros couldn't help but blurt out, stunned by the absurdity of it. The man before them looked so like a man in his prime,not yet a middle aged man– yet supposedly Deimos's father.

The man on the throne at the far end of the hall smiled, without taking any offense. He stood up calmly, and though he exuded no obvious majesty, a steady, indescribable presence surrounded him that made questioning him feel impossible. Icaros's brows furrowed as his instincts screamed danger – the same feeling he'd had when he first faced his brother,Malakor.

"It's not strange that I look so young," the man said as he walked closer. "There are many special ways to maintain one's appearance, if you so choose." He pulled Deimos into a hug – a gesture Icaros hadn't expected from someone he'd already guessed was the Li Sect's leader. They soon broke apart, and the man returned to his throne, settling back with effortless grace. His long white robe flowed around him, revealing only his facial features, palms, and bare feet.

"Give me and your friend a proper explanation," he said calmly. "He seems lost, and clearly knows little of the cultivation world's common knowledge. Though you insisted he's different – to me, he appears no more than a mere mortal."

"Yes, Father." Deimos cupped his fist in a formal gesture and gave a detailed account of what had happened with Icaros in the forest.

"Able to pierce through a Grade C beast with his bare hand,and no obvious signs of cultivation... interesting." The man grinned, a trace of surprise in his steady voice. His broad frame lent him a mild but undeniable intimidation.

"I now understand why my son says you're different," he continued slowly. "I've examined you, and you have no traces of qi cultivation. Yet you possess remarkable physical strength that rivals our experts. From Deimos's account, I infer you're a mortal with little knowledge of the cultivation world – given where you were found. But I still need you to introduce yourself before I make my decision."

Icaros secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Never had being misidentified felt so welcome. He thought of a lie he could use, remembering how his brother Malakor had once called him a poor liar during one of their confrontation. Then he spoke to the sect master:

"You're right – I'm a mortal. I've had incredible physical strength since birth. During the war that destroyed my village, I was knocked unconscious."

The man stared at him for long seconds. Cold sweat beaded on Icaros's back as the hall fell silent, dust motes dancing in the light streaming through high windows. Then the sect master spoke again, his tone calm as ever:

"Fair. Now I'll ask you one question – one that will shape your future in the cultivation world, for your village is no more. Will you join the Li Sect – one of the four world's greatest superpowers?"

Icaros's mind raced like lightning as he weighed the offer – the benefits, stakes, and his place in this new world. As thoughts swirled through his head, the man he'd deduced was the Li Sect Master stared silently, a faint smirk on his face.

After what felt like an eternity, Icaros spoke calmly: "I greet the Sect Master."

Instead of the reaction he expected, the man laughed aloud, turning to Deimos who stood a foot behind Icaros. "This lad is sharp – he already knows who I am, but it seems he still has much to learn."

"Yes, Father," Deimos replied. Turning to Icaros, he pulled a rectangular jade object from his armor pocket and handed it over. "Take this jade slip to the men outside the hall. They'll tell you what to do next."

"Men outside the hall?" Icaros muttered, turning the slip over in his hands. Seeing his confusion, Deimos explained: "Cultivators at high enough level develop what we call divine sense – it lets us perceive more than our physical eyes can, and do things like encrypt information into objects like this slip. Only someone with divine sense can read it."

Icaros furrowed his brow, struggling to process everything, then recovered and walked calmly out of the hall.

As Icaros's figure faded toward the doors, Deimos turned to his father. "Do you really believe his story?"

The Sect Master laughed, his expression thoughtful. "Of course not. But he's definitely not from any opposing power,and from what you've told me about your findings in the azure forest,plus the recent event that will soon happen,there's definitely a huge storm brewing, we'll need all the strength we can get."

Icaros examined the jade slip with curiosity as he stepped into the sunlight. "Surprisingly, everything worked out well," he thought, smiling to himself. Just outside the grand hall, he spotted the four men from the forest – the same ones who'd piloted the flying vessel, though he had no idea how it worked.

He approached them and held out the slip, his tone calm and face impassive. "Young Master Deimos said I should give you this."

One of the men,studied him closely before taking the jade. He closed his eyes, as if listening or seeing something beyond sight. Icaros wondered what he was doing, but before his thoughts could wander, the man opened his eyes – a flicker of surprise in his gaze. He stared at Icaros for a moment, then smiled. "Follow me, and don't wander off."

Icaros nodded obediently. The man gestured to the other three. "Return to your duties – your work here is done." They scattered, and Icaros noticed this man was dressed better than the rest with a green robe,filing the detail away as he followed.

They walked for nearly an hour through a district of grand mansions with intricate architecture. Eventually, they reached a glowing blue light barrier, with a manor built beside it. As Icaros studied the barrier and what lay beyond, the man pulled a token from his robe and waved it toward the manor.

Suddenly, Icaros felt an intense gaze on him – instinct flared, and he tensed to act. But the feeling vanished instantly, and a gap opened in the blue barrier.

"Relax," the man chuckled. "That was just a senior's divine sense sweeping over us to verify our identity before opening the barrier."

Icaros nodded, making a mental note. "This divine sense is both annoying and convenient – I wish I had it," he thought. His attention was soon drawn to the buildings ahead: still well-crafted, but lacking the grandeur of the previous district.

"The first hall and section are for the sect's upper echelon and core disciples," the man explained as they walked. "Those with high cultivation, power, talent, and unwavering loyalty – the sect's foundation. This area is for inner disciples, who have strong cultivation and good talent. Beyond here is where most disciples live, unless they earn a spot as an inner disciple."

"I appreciate the information," Icaros said formally, looking around as he kept pace.

The man laughed softly. "No need to thank me – you'll be heading to the library soon, and this will all be covered there."

"Library?!" Icaros's face showed genuine surprise.

"Yes," the man replied. "The Young Master's message in the jade slip says you need to learn about the cultivation world to avoid appearing and being ignorant. Though your time is limited."

"Why is that?" Icaros asked.

"You have the rest of today to prepare. By tomorrow, I'll lead you and other new recruits on your first mission. Succeed – and survive – and you'll become an official sect member." He quickened his pace slightly, as if to emphasize there was no time to waste.

Icaros drew a deep breath at the mention of a mission. His first task on Earth, saving humans had been rewarding and even enjoyable. But his last mission still haunted him: killing the only other being like himself.

They soon passed the inner disciples' area and entered the district for outer and non-official disciples. Outer disciples lived in full houses, big enough for families, arranged in neat rows. Non-official disciples were housed in simple but sturdy rooms lined in grids – and Icaros was given one, along with a key and a library permit from the Young Master. The man also introduced himself: Li Han – a name Icaros vaguely recalled Deimos using back in the forest.

Icaros sat on the only bed in his new room, reviewing the day's events – a habit he'd kept through millennia on Earth. After several minutes of quiet thought, he decided he'd handled things as well as possible. He knew there were gaps in his story to the Sect Master, but pushed that worry aside.

His next step was clear: visit the library. First, to erase his obvious ignorance. Second, to prepare for the newbie mission tomorrow – he had only one day to get ready.

A new mission... A smirk crossed his face. "For now, my mission is the library."