A world where might makes right. A world of Jade and Gold, of Phoenix and Dragons, of Pills and Talismans, of Martial and Spiritual arts.
A world where diligent training yield strength, meaning freedom. A world where loneliness means death, meaning social chains.
A world still unfair, as the ones reaching the heavens are most likely born rich - be it political riches of the aristocrats, power of secret knowledges and hidden realms of clans, or lucky enough to be born one-in-a-thousand genius.

This was not the case of Quiet Word - that is, (You).
Your current skill level being on par with said genius of your age? Lucky encounters and a knack for navigating social situations.
You know a fair amount of technic for such a young cultivator, but your strength lies in the impressive amount of Bonded Spiritual Beasts - A Hawk spirit, a Horse spirit, a Snake spirit and a Wolf spirit.
Speaking of that last one, you didn't told a world about him to anybody. As a scion of the Primordial Wolf spirit, its father warned you of its worth and how people could want to rip it away from you.
Said worth comes from its ability to Fuse without restriction - fusion being a secret of the higher ranking of your sect, secret you have almost completely rediscovered on your own. Alright, the Primordial Wolf might have helped you on that point.

Recently, your sect, the Eastern Branch of <span class="mu-s">Tamers of Hundred Beast</span> is currently under political attack from the <span class="mu-s">Symphony of Gilded Waters</span>.
This sect attempt to increase their relevence on the global scene by stealing some of yours. They are backed up by the <span class="mu-s">Turtle Copper Sect</span>, as your senior brother Bathias discovered.