Legend of Icaros

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?"