Reverend Insanity Chapter 2: Going back in time with 500 years of knowledge

Legend dictates that a River of Time winds through this world, maintaining the cycle of temporal flow. It is whispered that by harnessing the essence of the Spring Autumn Cicada, one may travel upstream, piercing the veil of the past.

Substantial debate surrounds this myth. Many dismiss it as fantasy, though some harbor deep skepticism.

Very few possess the courage to believe it.

This is because utilizing the Spring Autumn Cicada demands the ultimate sacrifice: one’s own life. The entire body and reserves of cultivation must be offered as fuel to activate its immense power.

The cost is astronomically high, and what remains most unacceptable is the uncertainty; even after sacrificing your life, there is no guarantee of the desired outcome.

Thus, even those who might possess the Spring Autumn Cicada are hesitant to use it recklessly. What if the legends were merely a fabrication or a malicious trap?

Fang Yuan would never have resorted to such a desperate measure had he not been backed into a corner. However, he is now entirely convinced. The reality standing before him is undeniable—he has truly been reborn!

“It is a pity... I wasted an absurd amount of effort from the very start, slaughtering hundreds of thousands, inciting the wrath of Heaven and the vengeance of mortals, enduring endless suffering to finally refine this magnificent Gu...” Fang Yuan sighed to himself. Despite his rebirth, the Spring Autumn Cicada had not accompanied him.

Humans represent the apex of the ten thousand creatures, while Gu embody the essence of heaven and earth.

Gu manifest in a baffling array of appearances and mysterious forms, far too numerous to count. Certain Gu dissipate entirely after a limited number of uses, while others can be utilized repeatedly, provided they remain within their design constraints.

That said, it is highly probable that the Spring Autumn Cicada belongs to the category of consumables that vanish upon a single manifestation of its power.

“Even if it is lost, I can simply refine another. I achieved it in my former life; why should this life be any different?” After dismissing his regrets, ambition and firm resolve surged within Fang Yuan’s heart.

The mere fact of his rebirth rendered the loss of the Spring Autumn Cicada a trivial price to pay.

Furthermore, he possessed a far more valuable asset, meaning he had not returned empty-handed.

This priceless treasure consisted of his five hundred years of memories and lived experience.

Within those memories lie countless hidden treasures and resources that remain undiscovered in this era. He understands the trajectory of major historical events with perfect clarity. He recalls a multitude of figures: reclusive powerhouses, geniuses whose potential has yet to be realized, and those who have not even been born. Additionally, these five hundred years contain the entirety of his grueling cultivation journey and extensive combat mastery.

Armed with these insights, he sits at the helm of the present situation, ready to seize every burgeoning opportunity. With precise planning, he could maneuver through this era with elegance and lethal efficiency. Taking a step ahead of all others to shatter the limits of his potential was entirely feasible.

“Now, how should I proceed?” Fang Yuan was profoundly pragmatic. He gathered his composure and contemplated the night rain falling outside his window. The sheer scale of his memories made the path forward feel complex. After a moment of consideration, he furrowed his brows.

Five hundred years span a vast stretch of time. Setting aside the hazy, forgotten memories, even recalling the precise coordinates of hidden treasures or the specific timing of various encounters remained a massive challenge, especially since these opportunities were geographically scattered and tied to inflexible timelines.

“Prioritizing my cultivation is the most vital step. Even now, I haven’t even opened my Dantian or set foot on the path of a Gu Master. I am a mere mortal! I must accelerate my cultivation, catching up to the timeline to exploit these advantages.”

Moreover, without an adequate foundation, discovering these hidden treasures would be tantamount to walking into a beast’s lair—a death sentence.

The immediate hurdle facing Fang Yuan was his meager level of cultivation.

He needed to bolster his foundation with record-breaking speed. If he repeated the sluggish pace of his previous life, he would lose every edge he currently held.

“To cultivate rapidly, I must leverage resources from the Sect. In my current state, I lack the capacity to traverse the treacherous mountains. Even an ordinary mountain boar could end my life. If I reach the Third transformation of a Gu Master, I will possess the strength to protect myself and venture forth.”

To someone who has walked the Demonic path for five hundred years, the Qing Mao Mountain seemed far too cramped, and the Gu Yue Village felt like little more than a cage.

Yet, while this cage stifled his freedom, its sturdy bars provided a layer of essential security.

“Hmm, for the time being, I will reside within this cage. Once I ascend to the Third level of a Gu Master, I can abandon this mountain. Fortunately, the Awakening Ceremony arrives tomorrow, which will allow me to begin my formal training without delay.”

As his thoughts turned to the Awakening Ceremony, long-buried memories stirred.

“Talent, is it...” He sneered, his gaze fixed on the rain-swept darkness beyond the window.

Suddenly, the door was nudged open, and a teenager stepped inside.

“Big brother, why are you standing in the rain?”

The youth was lean and slightly shorter than Fang Yuan, sharing his brother’s distinct facial features. As Fang Yuan looked at him, a complex flash of emotion flickered in his eyes.

“So it is you, my younger twin brother.” He raised an eyebrow, his expression sliding back into cold indifference. Fang Zheng lowered his head, his gaze fixed on his own toes—a characteristic habit.

“Your window was left open, so I thought I should close it. The Awakening Ceremony begins tomorrow, and it is quite late to still be awake. Uncle and Aunt would surely worry.”

Fang Zheng was accustomed to his brother's icy demeanor. Since childhood, Fang Yuan had always been aloof. He often speculated that perhaps genuine geniuses naturally distanced themselves from the mundane. Despite their visual similarity, he felt like an insignificant ant compared to his brother.

They were birthed at the same time, yet the heavens seemed cruel in their distribution of gifts. His brother possessed dazzling potential, while he felt entirely ordinary, no better than a common stone.

People would whisper, “Look, that is Fang Yuan’s little brother,” whenever he appeared. His aunt and uncle frequently demanded he emulate his brother. Even catching his own reflection in the mirror sometimes filled him with self-loathing.

These feelings had fermented over the years, pressing against his heart like a massive boulder, causing Fang Zheng to become increasingly withdrawn and quiet.

“Worry...” At the mention of his aunt and uncle, Fang Yuan chuckled inwardly. He remembered all too well how both parents had perished during a specific Sect mission. When he was but three, he and his younger brother were left destitute orphans.

Under the pretense of guardianship, his aunt and uncle had seized the inheritance left by his parents, subjecting the brothers to miserable treatment.

He had intended to remain obscure, hiding his true nature and waiting for the right moment. But the hardships were so severe that he was forced to reveal a glimmer of talent.

His so-called "talent" was merely a mature, intellectual soul equipped with the wisdom of Earth’s ancient literature.

That display of intellect managed to capture the attention of the Sect. Due to external pressure, the young Fang Yuan adopted a cold, indifferent mask to safeguard his secrets. Over time, that coldness solidified into a permanent habit.

Ever since, his aunt and uncle had ceased their overt harshness. Their improved treatment as they grew older was not borne of love, but was a pragmatic investment.

It was ironic that his younger brother failed to perceive this. Not only was he deceived, but he also harbored growing resentment. Though he appeared honest and good-natured now, in Fang Yuan’s memories, once Fang Zheng was identified as an A-grade talent, the Sect invested heavily in him. From then on, Fang Zheng’s latent bitterness and jealousy erupted, leading him to frequently target and sabotage his own brother.

As for Fang Yuan, his own talent was merely C-grade.

Fate loved to play such jokes.

A pair of twins: the older one, once lauded as a genius for over a decade, possessed only C-grade talent. The younger, consistently overlooked, held the A-grade talent.

The results of the Awakening Ceremony had stunned the Sect, causing a sudden inversion in their respective statuses.

The younger reached for the heavens like a rising dragon, while the older fell to the earth like an extinguished phoenix.

That shift brought forth endless tribulations at his brother’s hands, fueled by the cold stares of his aunt and uncle and the contempt of the clansmen.

Did he harbor hatred?

In his past life, perhaps. He had despised his lack of talent, the cruelty of the Sect, and the unfairness of fate. But now, tempered by five hundred years of experience, he viewed the path with absolute clarity, entirely devoid of hatred.

What value could resentment hold?

Viewing the world from this perspective, he understood his brother, his aunt, his uncle, and even the enemies who would eventually pursue him five centuries later.

The strong devour the weak; it is the fundamental law of this world. Every soul struggles solely for its own ambition. In a cycle of conflict and slaughter, what is there to misinterpret?

Five hundred years have solidified his resolve; he seeks only the path to immortality.

If anyone dares to block his pursuit, they will be eliminated without hesitation. His aspirations are grand, and walking this road means making the entire world his enemy; his journey is destined to be a solitary one of blood and triumph.

Such was the distillation of five centuries.

“Revenge is beneath me; the Demonic path brooks no compromise.” He offered a faint, fleeting glance at his younger brother. “You may leave.”

Fang Zheng trembled, sensing that his brother’s gaze was sharper than an ice blade, piercing through to the darkest corners of his soul.

Under that stare, he felt exposed, stripped of any ability to shelter his secrets.

“I will see you tomorrow, big brother.” Terrified to linger, Fang Zheng hurriedly closed the door and retreated.