Reborn: Lord of the Undead Dominion

The Eden Era…

Like the turning of the seasons, when glory reaches its peak, decline soon follows. After more than ten thousand years, the violent surges of the world’s power finally began to fade. Energies across the land settled, and the once-restless magical elements sank into deep stillness.

The force that had once ruled the world… became the quietest presence of all.

With the “winter of magic” upon the land, even the elves — once beloved by the gods — withdrew silently into the ancient forests, relinquishing their place as the masters of the continent.

The fourth rulers of the age were the Goblins.

They named their strength “craftwork” — and the world entered what they proudly called the Eden Era.

Great airships drifted across the sky, iron vessels belched steam along the rivers, roaring siege cannons shattered city walls, and precise rune-muskets formed terrifying battle formations. Upon these foundations, the Goblins built an empire unlike anything before.

The Era of Craft and Iron had arrived.

“The Protagonist a Hundred Thousand Years Later — Beneath the Wheels of History.”

…

The next morning, Luo Yan slowly emerged from deep meditation. He stretched his stiff limbs and snapped his fingers.

As expected… nothing happened.

He rubbed his forehead, but instead of disappointment, a faint smile curved his lips. Casting a 1st-tier spell after only one night of meditation? Even during the Elven Age — when prodigies wove forbidden spells like they were common tricks — that would have been impossible.

In truth, last night had been a great success.

After one full night of meditation, Luo Yan had opened seven magic channels and stabilized four of them. The remaining three were faintly visible, likely to stabilize within half a year.

Such progress had once been unthinkable.

Before his rebirth, when he first practiced the Common Beginner’s Meditation Manual (Revised Edition), he had opened only four channels — and only one stabilized. This time, the difference came not only from experience, but from the sub-legendary meditation technique:

Radiant Earth.

Only now did Luo Yan truly understand why the gap between him and the true geniuses of his previous life had been so vast.

This speed of growth… was frightening.

Shaking away the lingering emotions, he dressed, splashed cold water on his face, and ran to the backyard.

Morning mist drifted through the air, carrying the scent of damp earth. Luo Yan breathed deeply, and the cool freshness sharpened his spirit.

The yard was small, planted with several Xilai trees whose thick leaves cast wide shade in summer and bore reddish fruit in autumn. Smooth stones covered the ground beneath them; walking barefoot over them in the evening was cool and soothing.

It wasn’t large — but for a five-year-old, it was enough.

Luo Yan jogged slowly to warm up. This wasn’t play.

He was training his body.

His meditation had gone well. Now, he needed to find ways to increase the rate at which his magic power grew. Many methods required rare tools and materials — things he didn’t have.

But there was one method he could use right now.

He ran, leaped, and stretched.

A strong body — that was the simplest way to quicken magic cultivation. Even at the lowest level, it increased growth by at least ten percent.

“Magic is still a contest of strength. A mage needs a solid body.”

Allen, his disciple from his previous life, often said that. Luo Yan had laughed at him back then. Mages relied on spirit and magic — who would waste time training their bodies?

But reality had taught him otherwise.

Everything — spirit, mana, endurance — relied on the body that carried them.

Those whose bodies were stronger simply grew faster during meditation.

At least ten percent faster.

And that was only the baseline.

Before his rebirth, when he discovered this truth, he was already more than a century old. Though his body hadn’t yet decayed, long years of neglect had left him weak. He simply had no strength for harsh training — and his results had been limited.

Even so, five years of steady practice had increased his cultivation speed by nearly ten percent. If he had started young, the benefits might have been far greater.

…

Luo Yan ran thirty laps, panting heavily. For most adults, it would have been tiring — for a child, it was brutal.

He paused briefly, then assumed a strange stance. With a shout, he kicked outward eight times, then swept his legs inward eight more. Heat surged along his spine, and sweat drenched his clothes.

These movements were something he had learned from Allen.

They were completely different from anything commonly practiced on the continent, yet astonishingly effective. In only a month, his strength improved noticeably. After half a year, his body rivaled that of a 2nd-tier apprentice swordsman.

For now, he could only jog, jump, and stretch. True strength training was beyond his age and resources.

Even so, this routine took nearly three full hours. By the time he finished, it was close to noon.

Wiping his sweat, Luo Yan reviewed memories from his past life, considering how to refine his training. If possible, he would eventually need to design equipment — though explaining it would be troublesome.

Five years old… truly a difficult age.

Footsteps approached.

Susan stepped into the yard and smiled warmly.

“Son, are you done? Take a bath before lunch. You’re soaked — you’ll catch a chill!”

Playing?

He was clearly training.

But she simply thought her odd little boy had found a new game. She hadn’t wanted to disturb him.

Luo Yan pretended to pout. “No rush. Dad will be back soon. Let’s wait and eat together.”

Susan blinked in surprise, then laughed softly.

“What are you saying? You already miss him? He won’t return for at least seven days.”

Luo Yan froze.

Right — in his last life, something unexpected happened, and his father came home early. He couldn’t speak carelessly like this.

A hint of guilt crept into his heart.

If he kept slipping like this, others might start thinking he could foresee the future. And he had no intention of becoming some mysterious oracle.

He wanted to become a great mage.

He laughed it off and ran to bathe. When he finally returned, still drying his hair—

Laughter echoed in the yard.

His father was home.