7 Chapter 07: Twisted Pursuit of Power

The following day arrived, and it was a peaceful Sunday morning.

Sam found himself still nestled in his bed, unwittingly leaving traces of saliva on his pillow much to the chagrin of his mother, Helena.

However, Helena couldn't entirely blame her son. Sam had stayed up late into the night, delving deep into the mysteries of the other realms and the enigmatic practitioners known as cultivators.

The cultivator realm, as Sam had discovered, was vast beyond imagination, dwarfing the scale of Earth itself. Surprisingly, even to this day, less than 40% of this expansive realm has been thoroughly explored. Those uncharted territories were renowned for their treacherous nature, which had deterred many cultivators from venturing into the unknown.

Additionally, there had never been a pressing need to explore them, as resources were never in short supply.

What astonished Sam the most was the revelation that cultivators coexisted covertly alongside ordinary people on Earth. He learned that some influential and well-known individuals in the world were secretly supported and affiliated with these enigmatic beings.

As his aunt had explained, there were two methods of entering the cultivator realm. The first involved utilizing dimensional cracks scattered across the Earth's surface.

Fortunately for Sam, one such dimensional crack was conveniently located near his college.

Another method of entering the cultivator realm involved the use of teleportation formations, which offered a relatively trouble-free means of transportation.

Despite Sam's initial desire to focus more on cultivation itself rather than the cultivators, his mother assured him that he would gradually learn all there was to know once he began his own cultivation journey.

Sam's education continued as he delved into the complex world of sects, uncovering the intricate hierarchy of power and governance within the cultivator realm.

Up to this point, Five fully explored continents had been identified, each of them dwarfing typical Earth continents in size. Remarkably, these continents were all governed by a combination of kingdoms and sects. In this world, a single sect could rival a kingdom in terms of both sheer power and wealth.

Additionally, there were formidable clans with the strength and influence to govern their own territories. Both Sam's mother and father hailed from such clans, both of them belonging to the ranks of noble dragons.

The Hailstorm Clan, to which Sam's mother belonged, was known for its ice dragons. Even among the ice dragons, there were distinct types and ranks, and the Frozen Abyssal Dragon Bloodline stood as the most esteemed and highest-ranked bloodline within the Hailstorm Clan.

Similarly, the Flareheart Clan, Sam's father's lineage, was renowned for its fire dragons. Among the fire dragons, the Crimson Inferno Dragon Bloodline held the prestigious position of being the highest-ranked and most revered lineage within the Flareheart Clan.

....

Inside the grand hall of an opulent mansion, a scene unfolded.

"Lord Dorian, please accept our deepest apologies. Regrettably, we couldn't locate the Codex," a burly man humbly knelt before a figure with blonde hair and piercing hazel eyes.

This was Dorian Sterling, a seasoned cultivator who had taken up residence on Earth for a considerable span of time.

Two decades prior, while dwelling in the realm of cultivators, he had received tantalizing whispers about the existence of the Codex of the Supreme Immortals, rumored to have surfaced on Earth. Since that moment, his life had been a relentless pursuit of this enigmatic artifact.

In those twenty years, he had amassed substantial wealth, and he had even fallen in love with a human woman. Tragically, she had lost her life while giving birth to his son. The circumstances were far from ordinary; as a high-class dragon, Dorian knew that his wife was not physically equipped to bear his child.

Yet, by some miracle, his son had survived the ordeal.

Dorian bore no ill will towards the child; he placed the blame squarely on himself for succumbing to the allure of a human and daring to father a child with her. He knew he had made a grievous mistake.

The loss of his beloved wife had left an indelible scar on his heart.

It had driven him to a maddening obsession with the Codex, an obsession that had nearly placed the precious artifact within his grasp.

After all, everyone required something to cling to, a tether for their minds, preventing them from descending into chaos, didn't they?

However, fate had played a cruel hand once more, snatching the Codex from his reach and bestowing it upon another: Sam Flareheart.

"I pity you, Dorian," a figure suddenly emerged from the shadows and reclined leisurely on the couch.

Dorian, his composure shattered, responded, "What do you want, Jereth? As you can see, we lost the codex."

Jereth snorted dismissively. "We didn't lose it," he retorted, "you lost it."

"Yes, I lost it," Dorian admitted, frustration evident as he slammed down the glass in his hand.

Jereth attempted to console him, saying, "Now, now, don't be like that. We can still find it."

Dorian, desperate for a solution, questioned, "How?"

With a mysterious air, Jereth tossed something toward Dorian. He instinctively caught it and examined it. "A compass?"

Jereth clarified, "Not just a compass. It's imbued with the strange aura of the codex. It will lead us straight to its location."

Upon hearing this, Dorian glimpsed a ray of hope. He promptly infused the compass with some of his spiritual energy.

The moment the compass absorbed his energy, it began to spin, leading both Jereth and Dorian to believe it would eventually pinpoint the codex's location.

Two hours passed, and the compass was still spinning, even faster than before.

Dorian, growing increasingly restless, demanded, "What the hell, Jereth?"

Jereth frowned, his expression troubled. Suddenly, a disconcerting realization struck him. "No, it can't be."

Dorian pressed for answers, "What? What the hell happened?"

Jereth's voice trembled as he uttered, "The codex... it has already chosen someone as its master."

"What?" Dorian exclaimed in disbelief.

"Yes, I'm sure," Jereth replied with a somber expression, his gaze fixed on the compass in Dorian's hand. "That thing won't be of any more help. Just throw it away."

Frustration welled up within Dorian as he clenched the compass tightly. "What do we do now?"

Jereth explained, "Once the codex chooses someone, it remains with them until their death or until it deems them unworthy, which I don't think will happen anytime soon."

Dorian's demeanor shifted, and he spoke with a cold determination, "That means we just have to kill whoever took the codex, and the codex will be ours then."

By now, Dorian had abandoned any semblance of remorse or empathy. He had even cast aside his own son, who was no more worthy of mention, having been raised as a spoiled and entitled individual accustomed to having everything handed to him.

Once, Dorian had been a virtuous man, but his beloved wife's tragic demise had twisted him into something unrecognizable.

The man he had become was now despicable, committing unspeakable atrocities, extinguishing lives for his own perverse pleasure.

The heavens had long abandoned him, for he was no longer worthy of their favor.

As for his son, he was cut from the same cloth of darkness and malevolence.