I am a fragment of the Martial Dao Will. Some call me a golden finger, a wise old mentor, or a System...
Countless people across the Myriad Worlds kneel and beg for me to descend.
I chose someone in this world who had the makings of a Martial God, intending to grant him unparalleled insight and comprehension.
But... he refused.
He said:
“I don't need gifts from anyone else.”
“The path to becoming a Martial God lies beneath my feet.”
I don't understand him, but I know he's incredibly strong. Absurdly strong.
His name is Zhou Zhe: Zhou as in Zhou, and Zhe as in Zhe.
