The heavy white steam rising from the ancestral bloodline pond carried a thick aura of ancient power and metallic copper.

Deep within the hidden mountain cleft, the silence that followed the young master’s awakening was heavy enough to crush the lungs of any ordinary beast-cultivator.

The maidservants who had not collapsed from the scalding heat were trembling so violently that the silver trays in their hands clattered like dry bones.

Their light silk clothes, entirely soaked through with sweat, stuck to their skin as they lowered their heads toward the stone floor, not daring to look at the figure rising from the center of the crimson water.

Wang slowly stepped out of the boiling, blood-red pond. The water slid off his sculpted, flawless chest like liquid jade, leaving his pale skin unmarked by the intense heat that had just peeled the flesh off the servant girls’ arms.

He did not look at the ruined trays or the crying maids. His gaze was steady, cold, and fixed directly on the entrance of the cleft where the highest authorities of the divine Leopard Sect stood waiting.

As his bare feet touched the frozen stone floor, Wang allowed his newly awakened core to expand.

A sudden, invisible wave of bloodline pressure erupted from his body, expanding outward like a silent shockwave through the entire cavern.

The sheer weight of the aura did not merely demand respect—it carried an ancient, primordial sovereignty.

The inner sect guards standing at the entrance did not even have the time to cry out. Their knees buckled instantly under the invisible weight, slamming heavily into the hard stone with a series of sharp, bone-cracking thuds.

The lower ranked elders who had gathered just outside the boundary lines felt their spiritual oceans freeze instantly. One by one, their faces turned pale, and they were forced down onto their hands and knees, their foreheads pressed against the dirt in raw terror.

They wanted to resist, to assert their status as high-grade lords of the Upper Realm, but their very bloodlines were screaming at them to submit. It was an absolute, evolutionary suppression.

However, as this crushing pressure swept across the front of the crowd, it intentionally split into two distinct paths, completely bypassing the center line.

Clan Leader Bai Feng stood directly in that clear path. He felt the terrifying wind of his son’s aura brush past his long golden trimmed robes, shaking the heavy fabric, but not a single ounce of the crushing weight landed on his shoulders.

Bai Feng looked at his son, his own cold, majestic expression wavering for the first time in centuries. He saw the sharp, unyielding red irises in Wang’s eyes, the effortless grace of his posture, and the deliberate respect shown by shielding him from the pressure.

A deep look of profound appreciation flashed across Bai Feng’s face, and the icy demeanor he usually held against the world finally broke, a genuine, proud smile cutting through his features.

Wang walked past the kneeling lines of elders, his voice smooth, low, and perfectly calm as it echoed through the silent cavern.

"How is it that the Ancient Divine Leopard tribe has turned to this?"

The question was simple, but it hit the gathered crowd like a physical blow. The kneeling elders felt their faces burn with an immense, suffocating embarrassment.

To be called weak and degraded by the very young master who had just been rescued out of the lower realm was a supreme humiliation, yet under the weight of his crimson gaze, not a single one of them dared to open their mouth to argue.

They could only swallow their pride and bury their faces deeper into the ground. Even Bai Feng felt a slight touch of awkwardness, knowing the current state of the sect was indeed far from its ancestral glory.

Before anyone could speak, the space at the back of the cavern suddenly rippled like disturbed water.

Four ancient, withered figures emerged from the void, their sweeping grey robes smelling of ancient dust and centuries of secluded meditation.

These were the four old sages, the ultimate hidden ancestors of the leopard tribe who only appeared when the sect faced total annihilation.

Yet, as they stepped into the light, their ancient eyes locked onto Wang’s crimson irises.

Their old bodies began to tremble violently, not out of fear or the primal need to submit that the other tribesmen felt, but from a pure, fanatical excitement that threatened to overwhelm their ancient hearts.

Without a single word of explanation to the shocked crowd, the four old sages sank to their knees, their long sleeves sweeping the dirt as they bowed their heads all the way to the floor.

"Welcome back, Patriarch!" their voices cracked with deep emotion, echoing like thunder through the stone hall.

A collective gasp rippled through the kneeling crowd. The elders and guards who could still breathe felt their minds completely go blank.

They knew Wang’s bloodline awakening would be powerful, they knew he would return from his missing years as a supreme genius,as long as his bloodline is awaken, but never in their wildest dreams did they expect him to be the literal first Patriarch of the leopard tribe—the ancient ancestor who had founded their entire lineage before disappearing into legend.

In the middle of the kneeling crowd, Elder Shen’s face turned from pale to an ash-grey. His fingers curled inside his sleeves, his heart sinking into an icy abyss.

The secret task the Master had charged him with, to control the young master and steer the tribe into their hands, was now miles away from being achievable. How could an ordinary elder manipulate a living Patriarch?

A few feet away, Shen Mao’s reaction was entirely different. She was kneeling alongside the other young elites, her beautiful silver hair touching the floor, but her sharp eyes were fixed entirely on Wang’s perfect, godlike figure.

The initial irritation she had felt while waiting in the courtyard vanished instantly, replaced by a surge of overwhelming vanity and burning ambition.

Her heart pounded against her ribs as she stared at his cold, handsome face. ’This is the man Grandpa promised me,’ she thought, her lips curving into a hidden, greedy smile. ’He isn’t just a young master. He is the Patriarch. Only a female as beautiful as me is worthy of standing at his side.’

The echo of the sages’ voices did not simply fade into the stone walls; it lingered like a physical weight in the cold air, vibrating against the spiritual cores of every elder present.

Elder Shen’s breathing became incredibly shallow as he watched the four ancient ancestors, men who had ignored the last five clan leaders even on their deathbeds press their foreheads flat against the damp stone.

A heavy, suffocating realization began to settle over the hall. This was no longer an internal political struggle over a talented young master.

The entire foundation of the Upper Realm’s power grid was shifting in front of their eyes.

Wang did not immediately tell them to rise. He stood perfectly still, his crimson eyes tracking the faint, drifting remnants of the bloodline mist.

His mind was working at a terrifying speed. As the title of Patriarch settled into his soul, a massive flood of ancient combat techniques, structural blueprints of the Upper Realm’s ley lines, and forbidden array formulas naturally unlocked within his mind.

It was a sea of old knowledge, yet as he swept through the vast archives of his own mind, the space where his recent years should have been recorded remained a jagged, black void.

He raised his left hand slightly, his fingers curling into a loose fist. The raw spiritual energy of the mountain peaks rushed into the room through the narrow cleft windows, swirling around his knuckles like a loyal pet.

"Get up," Wang murmured smoothly, his tone devoid of any pride or warmth.

The four old sages stood up in unison, their old eyes glistening with a fanatical, absolute devotion that completely terrified the surrounding guards.

The eldest sage turned his head toward the crowd, his voice dropping into a harsh, ringing decree. "From this day forward, the lineage returns to the true source. Let it be known across the high ridges that the Sovereign of the Ancient Divine Silver Leopard has reclaimed his throne.."

Shen Mao, still kneeling near the back, felt her fingertips turn completely numb against the ice-cold floor.

She looked at Wang’s broad chest, her mind completely racing with a mixture of intense terror and an overwhelming, greedy vanity.

She had always believed she was destined to rule the inner sect, but looking at the man before her, she realized the inner sect was nothing more than a small backyard to him.

Her ambition transformed in an instant; she didn’t just want to be his female, she wanted to absorb a fraction of that cosmic authority for herself.

Wang looked down at the hundreds of bowing heads, his expression unchanged by their shock. As his true identity as the Patriarch was exposed to the light, the spiritual energy of the world itself seemed to recognize him.

The multi character name he had been told was his name when he first got to the leopard tribe was naturally shed, decoupling him from the standard "Bai" surname of the clan.

From this moment on, his name possessed just a single character: Wang. It was his first name, his middle name, and his surname, a singular mark of absolute sovereignty that required no lineage to validate its power.

But even as he stood beneath the fanatical worship of his tribe, Wang felt a sudden, massive ache hollow out his chest.

His eyes looked over the bowing leopards, but his mind felt completely disconnected. The seals of the Upper Realm had restored his power, his title, and his position, but there was a void in his soul that remained entirely dark.

He knew with an unnerving certainty that a vital memory had been torn away from him about his descent to the lower world. It seems its a very important memory, a memory that felt more important than the Patriarch throne, more precious than the divine bloodline currently boiling in his veins.

He clenched his fists tightly, suppressing the frustration and the heavy ache behind a mask of glacial ice.

He could not look for that missing piece yet. Right now, he needed to consolidate his rule.