Chapter 137: After Ascension

After listening to the presentation by the head of the SkyQiong Technology Center, the attendees’ eyes fixed on the forum post slowly scrolling down the screen.

This analysis left them profoundly shaken—it was an angle they had never imagined.

The official version of Dark Land and the pirated version circulating online are very likely two entirely different games.

If this hypothesis holds true, it explains why the netizens in this post hold starkly opposing views and each believes the other is a bot.

Most importantly, neither game outputs information externally.

This makes direct comparison between the two games impossible, resulting in clear cognitive disparities.

From the perspective of a normal player, they would never believe their version of Dark Land has any issues.

Official players obtained their access through official channels, while pirated players experienced gameplay content sufficient to confirm the game’s authenticity and would never suspect any problems.

“Are there any players who have both pirated access and official Dark Land access?”

Bai Chen, standing on the podium, asked in a low, serious tone.

In response to the question, the attendees turned to their own teams, asking for answers.

Long moments passed, yet no one responded.

Seeing this, Bai Chen fell into thought.

This proves that, for now, no player has been found to possess both Dark Land and its pirated download version.

Upon closer reflection, it makes sense—the probability of owning both games is extremely low.

With humanity’s population at two billion, fewer than four million players obtained official access to Dark Land through five rounds of rush purchases, meaning players make up less than one five-hundredth of the total population.

The exact number of pirated Dark Land access grants distributed remains unknown, but the quantity is clearly far lower than that of the official grants.

Assuming fifty thousand grants were issued, the probability of a player holding both official and pirated access is one in twenty million.

Here, we have not yet accounted for one inevitable factor.

That is, players who own the official Dark Land would never even click on the pirated link to download it.

Thinking of this, Bai Chen suddenly looked up at one member of his team and asked:

“Director Li, how many of the five hundred slots granted by the Eclipse Clan last time remain unclaimed?”

“Chairman, all have been distributed to major institutions and fully activated.”

Hearing this, Bai Chen sighed inwardly, then turned to the attendees and said gravely:

“This is a critical issue we must address urgently—we need to determine whether Dark Land and its pirated version are one game or two entirely different ones. Representatives, return to your teams and communicate with players of both versions. The meeting is adjourned.”

“Also, allocate a sum of funds to the SkyQiong Technology Center to acquire as many pirated Dark Land game coins as possible, for contingency purposes. Whether Xiao’s speculation proves true or not, if there is any possibility, we must prepare in advance to avoid being caught off guard.”

…

Origin Altar.

Qi Sheng’s gaze withdrew from the Human Council Hall.

In truth, he did not care what the human high command thought.

After receiving the guidance’s feedback, he shifted his vision to the Xie Yue Domain north of Caiwu Coast.

The Crescent-level domain remained in its crescent state after the last lunar phase shift.

The island beneath the Xie Yue moon was shrouded in gloom, its surface crawling with twisted, entwined Erosion Cores.

The surrounding ocean had been corrupted by Black Black Tide energy; beneath the blood-red surface, countless aquatic-derived Xie Sui darted swiftly.

Qi Sheng’s vision descended upon the domain node at the island’s center.

There, a pitch-black substance continuously absorbed matter from the Xie Yue space, rapidly coalescing and extending upward.

“Is another evil spirit about to descend?”

【Boss, it’s condensing a Xie Yan Tower. Unless something unexpected happens, a Xie Sui Tower will soon emerge in this Xie Yue Domain, bringing new Xie Ling Warriors and Xie Yan.】

【But we have the first-mover advantage. If the descending entity is indeed a low-level intelligent evil spirit, our current player army’s strength can easily eliminate it—strike first and crush it in its cradle.】

【I even suspect the evil spirit won’t need us to act—nearby maritime factions will strike first. The Ancient God Clan, for instance, won’t allow the Black Black Tide to grow near their territory and threaten them. So there’s no need to worry about the new evil spirit posing a real threat to Caiwu Coast.】

Hearing the guidance’s explanation, Qi Sheng nodded.

The Dizhong Mountain Range’s lockdown was already a headache—he didn’t want the path from Caiwu Coast to the sea blocked by the Black Black Tide too.

But as the guidance said, the Xie Yue Domain borders the Ghost Shadow Sea.

That is the Ancient God Clan’s territory; if the Black Black Tide expands, it will first Iron Face suppression from them.

He had no reason to worry about this issue.

Just as Qi Sheng prepared to observe the descent of the evil spirit warriors, he received another feedback from the guidance—his vision switched to a player’s perspective.

…

Caiwu Coast, Cangxing Sea.

Dream Island.

On a small island rising from the boundless ocean, lush vegetation thrived—towering ancient trees pierced the clouds, while low, colorful flowers carpeted the ground, filling the air with a faint, sweet fragrance.

On the beach before the island’s cliff, a bonfire blazed.

Yu Yun skewered a silver-tailed fish on an iron rod and roasted it over the flames; the aroma was irresistible.

Not far ahead, in the undulating waves, twenty-seven more silver-tailed fish waited obediently.

They were his comrades-in-arms.

Without their desperate protection during the journey from Caiwu Coast to Dream Island, he would have been devoured by fish long before reaching here.

“Controlling the Ming Hun is incredibly useful.”

Watching the silver-tailed fish sizzle and drip oil, Yu Yun flipped the skewer and sighed in admiration.

The advantage was clear: under control, monsters could fight for him, and when he was low on health, they could serve as food.

Take this silver-tailed fish in his hand—it had already collapsed from exhaustion, eyes rolled back, on the brink of death, and would die soon.

Seeing his comrade suffer, he acted decisively to end its pain.

He extracted its final value, transforming it into a delicious roasted fish, elevating its life.

Sprinkling seasoning bought from the Trading Guild, he brought the roasted fish to his lips, blew away the rising steam, and took a large bite.

The tender, silk-like flesh melted gently on his tongue, releasing juice like a spring rain, softly nourishing every corner of his mouth.

Then, a rich fish aroma exploded in his mouth—fresh, sweet, mingled with subtle herbal and garlic notes from the seasoning, perfectly harmonizing with the fish’s natural flavor—neither overpowering nor lacking, enhancing the overall taste just right.

“Brother, you’re truly delicious.”

At that moment, Yu Yun’s eyes filled with tears.

Each time he savored food in the game, a profound sense of happiness welled up inside him.

This was a flavor impossible to experience in reality—as if his soul, hidden within his body, was savoring it too.

Just as Yu Yun prepared to take a second bite, he saw a blood-red fireball appear in the sky, slicing through the heavens, its rolling heat waves warping space as it plummeted toward the nearby sea.

BOOM!

The fireball struck the ocean, triggering massive waves and a vast cloud of steam that blanketed the air in white mist.

“What the hell!”

After a brief hesitation, Yu Yun swiftly shoved the half-eaten “brother” into his space bag and headed straight for the fireball’s impact site.

According to the three game laws outlined by forum strategists, one stated:

When encountering unexpected events, always investigate up close.

The event might yield unimaginable wealth; the worst-case loss? An hour in the penalty box.

The risk-to-reward ratio was negligible.

Soon, escorted by his comrades, Yu Yun arrived at the fireball’s landing site.

Searching the sea, he discovered a humanoid lifeform slowly sinking.

…

Five days ago.

Tian Ding World.

Beneath the boundless sky, clouds churned, golden light radiated in countless rays, and the grandest painting of heaven and earth slowly unfurled.

This was an ancient world where demonic beasts and myriad lifeforms coexisted, thriving upon this land.

At the world’s center, a towering peak pierced the clouds, its summit wreathed in visible, dense spiritual energy.

Seated cross-legged atop the highest boulder, Tian Bing inhaled and exhaled the celestial spiritual energy, feeling the warm current flow through his body, eventually absorbed and digested.

As the first ray of dawn touched his skin, a golden glow enveloped his body.

With a gesture, the clouds before him surged; an invisible force radiated from him, reversing the churning clouds.

At that moment, he opened his eyes—his pale golden irises gleamed with unmistakable joy.

After 1,239 seasonal cycles of cultivation, he had finally reached the legendary realm known as “Fei Sheng.”

Now, he faintly sensed the world’s rejection of him.

His power had become too great for this world to contain—he was about to ascend to the immortal realm, the dream of countless cultivators.

But before that, he had many unfinished tasks.

His form dissolved into a streak of light, arriving at the sect on the mountainside.

Birdsong echoed through the hills, crisp and melodious, blending with the distant murmur of streams into a natural symphony.

On the sect’s training ground, disciples in uniform uniforms had already begun their morning exercises.

Some wielded long swords, their blades flowing like water, tracing graceful arcs through the air; others punched with roaring force, shadows multiplying with each strike, accompanied by the sound of tearing air; still others leapt and flipped with the lightness of swallows above the training ground.

As the morning practice deepened, beads of sweat formed on the disciples’ foreheads, their movements growing smoother and more powerful.

Bathed in morning light, their silhouettes seemed gilded with golden radiance.

After observing for a long while, Tian Bing’s figure materialized.

Seeing the Heavenly Soldier arrive, all the sect disciples knelt down, their eyes filled with profound admiration as they gazed at him.

“Old Ancestor.”

The Heavenly Soldier nodded calmly, transforming into an illusionary shadow and appearing before the sect’s grand hall.

The elderly man overseeing the sect disciples’ training, upon seeing the Heavenly Soldier before him, immediately knelt to the ground and respectfully called out, “Old Ancestor.”

“Yue Li, I shall ascend soon. I entrust my lineage’s descendants to you.”

Hearing these words, the white-haired elder kneeling on the ground could not hide his shock, then immediately spoke:

“Congratulations, Old Ancestor, on your glorious ascent to the Immortal Realm.”

“I shall visit the Treasury of Truth. Announce to the world: invite all powerful beings to witness my shattering of the void and ascent to the Heavenly Ladder.”

“I humbly obey your will, Old Ancestor.”

As his words faded, the Heavenly Soldier transformed once more into a streak of light and vanished.

Not long after, he arrived at a tranquil bamboo grove deep within the sect.

Standing there was an ancient, elegant building constructed of blue stone, its surface marked by the scars of time, crowned with green tiles and upturned eaves at each corner, resembling four phoenixes ready to take flight—symbolizing the elevation of wisdom and power. Whenever a breeze stirred, bronze bells beneath the eaves chimed softly, their clear, melodious tones harmonizing with the voice of nature and wisdom.

Entering the Treasury of Truth, the faint scent of ink and ancient wood washed over him. The interior glowed with soft light, sunlight streaming through carved window lattices, mingling with the lanterns hanging within to create a serene atmosphere. The shelves overflowed with books—from ancient parchment scrolls to exquisitely bound volumes—each carrying the wisdom and devotion of past masters, recording the secrets of cultivation attuned to nature.

Among the shelves, core disciples stood or sat, holding ancient texts, deeply immersed in the ocean of knowledge, studying intently.

Transforming into a gentle breeze, he arrived at the deepest chamber of the Treasury of Truth, where the sect’s most precious scriptures were kept.

These not only recorded the sect’s history and lineage but also contained supreme cultivation methods and secret texts.

Only those sect disciples who had passed rigorous trials and possessed unwavering hearts were permitted to enter this sacred place and seek the highest realms of cultivation.

He had not come here in ages; the scent of wood in the air filled him with deep nostalgia.

He remembered himself as a novice, spending countless nights and days here, seeking immortality.

Looking back on the past, he felt profound emotion.

Now, he had finally followed the footsteps of his predecessors to the world’s very edge, ready to shatter the void and depart.

Thinking of meeting his Master again, and the elders he had once walked beside, the Heavenly Soldier’s lips curled slightly upward.

He stepped forward to the end shelf and drew out an ancient scroll.

It recorded the insights on ascension left behind by his predecessors.

Among them was the very sense of world-rejection he had just felt, along with numerous cultivation summaries.

The cultivation system of this world could be called Nurturing the Spirit.

Beginning with Foundation Establishment, one nurtures spiritual essence within the body—the first step of cultivation being the formation of a Golden Core within.

Then, one continuously refines the Golden Core with spiritual energy until it hatches into a Nascent Soul.

At this stage, one has truly entered the path, becoming a genuine cultivator: lifespan greatly extended, perception of subtle cosmic changes awakened, and the ability to manipulate natural forces to create devastating techniques gained.

Subsequent cultivation involves nurturing the Nascent Soul, allowing it to grow and strengthen.

His current cultivation level was the sixth stage in the cultivation hierarchy, known to the world as the Ascension Realm.

He could at any moment tear through the thick veil of space and ascend along the Heavenly Ladder built by the Upper Realm—the realm also called the Immortal Realm or Heavenly Realm.

The nature of the Immortal Realm was detailed in the texts.

The Heavenly Soldier had once witnessed a glimpse of the Heavenly Realm during an ascension; the memory remained vivid.

It had been 215 years ago, when his senior brother ascended—he had witnessed firsthand the scene after his brother shattered space.

Above the fractured sky, a dazzling Heavenly Ladder emerged silently—not built of mortal stone, but woven from countless shimmering starlight and gentle spiritual ribbons, like a river of the Milky Way converging into a rainbow bridge that vanished into the mist-shrouded, radiant end of space.

On either side of the ladder, celestial cranes soared, celestial music drifted, its profound, lingering melody purifying his brother’s mortal body of all impurities.

Faintly visible at the ladder’s end were immortals draped in auroras, their expressions transcendent—their unearthly aura filled him with awe and longing.

When his brother stepped onto the ladder and reached its end, he saw the silhouette of the Heavenly Court gradually clarify—a magnificent palace built of jade and divine materials, golden and resplendent, majestic and grand, each tile and brick radiating soft, brilliant light—until his brother passed through the Upper Realm’s gate, and all vanished into nothingness.

This was the scene the Heavenly Soldier had dreamed of, imagined countless times.

Flipping through the ancient texts, he found many similar descriptions, along with warnings left by the sages.

For example, before ascending to the Immortal Realm, one must cleanse the body, shed all mortal dust, and don new attire to show respect to the Immortal Guides of the Upper Realm.

The Heavenly Soldier memorized every detail.

As he flipped through more ancient texts, time slipped away, and night fell.

When his spiritual sense brushed against the final scroll at the very bottom of the shelf, the Heavenly Soldier froze:

The last scroll had been left by a sect elder thousands of years ago. The first page bore several lines of text:

At the moment of ascension, standing atop the clouds, gazing down upon the mortal world, one’s heart is tangled in a thousand knots—remembering the warmth of past human life, the tender bonds, the grudges and loves—all now mere mist and smoke. Yet the heart clings to the mortal realm, entangled and reluctant, like spring wind brushing willows, impossible to sever.

Above the Nine Heavens, celestial music drifts, the call has come, yet one’s steps grow heavy as lead. Turning back, one sees the mortal world vast and bright, its splendor unchanged—and sighs inwardly.

Unable to part with this warmth, the mortal world holds dreams—wishing to remain, unwilling to leave.

…

The first page of the scroll described this elder’s lingering attachment to the mortal world, his refusal to depart.

But the world’s rejection of this elder grew ever stronger. To remain among mortals, this greedy elder devised a Body Dissolution Technique, seeking to reverse his cultivation, lowering his realm—even if it meant drastically shortening his lifespan—so he might stay and accompany his loved ones and old friends.

At the scroll’s end, the elder fell into mortality and passed away within fifteen years.

On the final page of the scroll lay the Body Dissolution Technique, gifted by the elder to any half-immortal who, like him, clung to the mortal world.

Seeing this, the Heavenly Soldier sighed deeply.

He had never imagined the sect once harbored such an elder—willing to abandon the orthodox path to ascension, choosing instead to wither and die like a mortal.

Yet behind his sorrow, the Heavenly Soldier’s heart remained unshaken.

Though the mortal world held memories worth cherishing, his Dao heart was firm—Immortal Realm was his lifelong pursuit.

He was now a half-immortal—how could he possibly abandon this path?

He looked out the window.

Night had fallen outside; fireflies danced among the bamboo grove like tiny stars, mingling with the warm light spilling from the Treasury, forming a peaceful scene.

Suppressing the emotion in his heart, he took a deep breath and transformed into a streak of light, slipping away silently.

In the days that followed, the Heavenly Soldier began arranging his affairs.

He compiled all he had learned into volumes and stored them in the Treasury of Truth, leaving behind a path to immortality for future sect disciples to study and emulate.

The day before the appointed ascension, he gathered all sect disciples and his lineage’s descendants before the sect’s grand hall.

Sitting cross-legged in midair, the Heavenly Soldier spoke calmly of parting.

His gaze swept over his descendants and disciples; a faint reluctance rose in his heart, but greater still was his longing for the Upper Realm.

As farewell neared, he, like past ascended elders, left behind his Ascension Admonition for the sect disciples:

“We cultivators, after enduring countless trials, have earned this chance of ascension. Looking back on our path, every step has been a trial of character and wisdom. I depart now, and offer these words for you, my successors, to remember:

“First: Cultivation is not the work of a single day—it demands perseverance. Do not abandon the Dao because of temporary setbacks. The path is long and arduous; only by holding fast to your original intent can you reach the other shore.

“Second: Cultivate benevolence, forge good karmic ties. In heaven and earth, cause and effect cycle endlessly. Sow good causes, reap good fruits. Only with compassion can you perceive the true meaning of all things.

“Third: Cultivate the heart as the foundation, balance virtue with practice. The path of cultivation is not merely the advancement of realm—it is the elevation of character. Only by cultivating virtue can you master higher realms without losing yourself.

“Fourth: Do not be arrogant or impatient. Remain humble and self-reflective. On the path of cultivation, temptation and trials abound. Only by maintaining humility and constant self-examination can you avoid straying from the true path.

“Fifth: Cherish your sect kin and friends, spread the Dao. Though ascension is glorious, mortal bonds are genuine. While pursuing your own cultivation, never forget to repay the sect—do all you can to pave the way for those who follow.

“Though I depart, I hope you, my successors, inherit our will, continue forward on this path of cultivation, surpass yourselves, and one day ascend to the heavens.”

The next day, countless races and factions gathered atop the highest peak.

Demon cultivators, spirit cultivators, corpse cultivators… all the strongest from every race were present, watching in awe as the Heavenly Soldier Ancestor shattered the void and ascended.

At the mountain’s base, beings of all races had gathered like an ocean—they knelt or stood, devoutly gazing upward, their eyes gleaming with reverence and longing for supreme power.

At that moment, the Heavenly Soldier appeared, clad in a black robe embroidered with cloud patterns, suspended in midair like a sun, his body enveloped in a blinding golden radiance.

Gazing down upon the earth, the Heavenly Soldier felt a surge of grandeur:

“Fellow cultivators, I depart.”

As his words ended, he finally released the world’s oppressive resistance. Instantly, dazzling auroras erupted across the sky, like divine miracles descending, transforming heaven and earth into a dreamlike spectacle. Under this light, the hearts of the watching beings from all races seemed purified by the Upper Realm’s power, forgetting their ancient grudges, united in awe and solemnity.

Suddenly, a thunderous roar echoed through the heavens.

Immediately, a brilliant beam of light burst from the Heavenly Soldier, piercing straight toward the sky.

At that moment, all races cried out in unison—their voices merging into a tidal wave, echoing across the heavens, offering their most sincere blessings to this supreme mortal.

The black hole in the sky expanded rapidly; the Heavenly Ladder, paved with celestial jade, stretched forth from the end of space.

At the end of space, the figures of immortals appeared; a glimpse of the magnificent architecture emerged.

Countless beings raised their heads, their eyes filled with unmistakable envy and excitement.

This was precisely the ultimate goal they had strived for through countless nights and days.

Historical records described the end of the Heavenly Ladder as a realm beyond mortal comprehension, breathtakingly beautiful.

In the world after ascension, spring lasts forever, flowers never fade, and the ascended’s lifespan becomes eternal, untouched by the passage of day and night.

Every idealized beauty could be found in that world.

As the Heavenly Soldier stepped onto the Heavenly Ladder, all races knelt in worship—not only witnessing the supreme glory of the strongest, but honoring the highest truth.

“Hail the Old Ancestor’s Ascension!”

“Hail Old Ancestor Heavenly Soldier’s Ascension to the Immortal Realm!”

“Hail Old Ancestor Heavenly Soldier, ascending to…”

Countless shouts echoed through heaven and earth.

With a heart full of emotion, the Heavenly Soldier stepped forward, ascending the ladder until he stood before the great gate at its end.

Gazing at the immortal’s spectral form, he bowed respectfully, then took a deep breath and passed through the Heavenly Gate.

Instantly, a violent sensation of weightlessness surged through him—he felt the world spin, an invisible force enveloping his body, carrying him forward.

After an unknown length of time, when his vision cleared, the scene before him left the Heavenly Soldier dumbfounded.

There was no grand Immortal Realm palace, no world bathed in ethereal qi… and certainly no transcendent process of eternal life and marrow purification.

What appeared before his eyes was a cold, vast scene.

Before him stood rows of perfectly aligned life containers, each holding a humanoid lifeform, suspended in transparent nutrient fluid, their bodies connected by numerous soft tubes.

The container shells were covered in complex piping and interfaces, like life veins, continuously delivering nutrients and energy.

He himself was enclosed in one of these containers, now feeling utterly drained, unable to muster any strength.

He turned his head to look beside him and saw an extremely horrifying sight.

A corpse had been split open from the abdomen; the life within the container was dead, eyes tightly shut, Iron Face twisted, lips frozen in lingering traces of pain and terror, dark red viscous fluid still clinging to the abdominal edges—likely left behind by some creature before its departure.

He looked up again toward the front, and many similar scenes remained in the other containers.

The Heavenly Soldier tried to struggle free, but found he could not move at all; a powerful weakness enveloped him from within.

At the same time, he felt something within his abdomen was awakening.

He attempted to perceive it, then froze in shock at what his perception revealed.

In his inner vision, the Iron Face of his Nascent Soul was changing—not his own Iron Face anymore, but a twisted, monstrous visage.

It devoured his internal qi and blood, growing rapidly.

This sight filled the Heavenly Soldier with dread, yet he could not stop the monster’s consumption and growth.

“How could this happen?” he murmured, then suddenly realized a terrifying possibility.

Ascension was a lie!

The mortal world was nothing more than a breeding ground for beings of the higher realm; their perceived cultivation and growth were merely helping the higher realm nurture the monstrous creatures within them.

What they called the Ascension Realm was, in the eyes of the higher beings, merely the maturation stage—the time for harvest.

This scene before him was no fantasy of the Immortal Realm—it resembled a slaughterhouse.

“We’ve all been deceived,” the Heavenly Soldier cried, eyes blazing with rage, yet powerless to stop the slow drain of his blood and qi.

At that moment, a withered voice came from beside him:

“Stop wasting your effort. You cannot break free. You are destined to become nourishment for the monster inside you.”

The Heavenly Soldier turned his head and saw the figure inside the container to his lower left speaking.

“Where exactly is this place?”

“Heh, isn’t this the Heavenly Realm we all dreamed of? I spent eight hundred years in the Tianxing Region, striving to attain Dao and become an Immortal—yet never imagined I’d become livestock to be slaughtered.”

As he spoke, the old man lifted his head, revealing a Iron Face worn with despair and exhaustion, his eyes brimming with hopelessness:

“For this day, I endured endless years, suffering pains no ordinary being could bear, all to reach the other shore. But I never imagined it was all a lie—there is no Immortal Realm, no eternal life with unending lifespan, no boundless freedom to roam heaven and earth. Everything… everything is false.”

“Tianxing Region? You’re not from the Tian Ding World?” the Heavenly Soldier asked, astonished.

Indeed, he had never seen this old man before. His own Tian Ding World invited cultivators from all four seas to witness every Ascension ceremony—yet he had never encountered this figure.

“The higher realm has created multiple breeding grounds. The worlds where you and I grew up are just one among them.”

With that, the old man’s Iron Face twisted in fury:

“If I’m not mistaken, the so-called higher-realm beings are nothing but parasites. They scatter countless life seeds into the lower realms—what we call cultivation roots—implanting them within us from birth, growing alongside our cultivation. From Foundation Establishment onward, they slowly swell. Every ability we wield is granted by the parasitic monster inside us, yet we foolishly believe we command the power of heaven and earth.”

“The monster grows and thrives on our flesh and blood, and what we call the Ascension Realm is merely the monster’s maturation stage—about to burst free. Ascension is an illusion. The truth is, we are brought here to this slaughterhouse to welcome the parasite’s birth.”

“Tragic… so tragic,” the old man gasped, wracked by violent coughs, his brow contorted with pain—clearly, the monster inside was still devouring his flesh.

Hearing the old man’s analysis, the Heavenly Soldier felt utter despair.

He thought of his Master, his Senior Brothers, and the elder disciples who had ascended before him.

He could imagine what they had endured.

Full of hope, they had ascended to the Immortal Realm—only to be met with a cold blade, imprisoned in containers, waiting in despair for death, watching helplessly as the Nascent Soul they had nurtured devoured their own flesh, finally bursting forth from within.

“Aaaahhh!” Overwhelmed by despair and rage, the Heavenly Soldier let out a desperate scream, thrashing violently, trying to tear free from the tubes connected to his body.

“Stop struggling,” the white-haired old man rasped, coughing continuously. “The energy being pumped into the container is accelerating the monster’s growth. The monster’s released energy traps your strength. Neither you nor I can escape the fate of being torn open and killed by the monster.”

“Shut up!” The Heavenly Soldier still struggled, but his weakened body could not break free.

During this time, the monster growing within him continued to expand.

Every moment he grew weaker, the monster grew stronger.

Endless despair enveloped the Heavenly Soldier’s heart; his beautiful illusions of the Immortal Realm shattered completely.

Recalling the envy, excitement, and hope in the eyes of mortals below as he ascended, the Heavenly Soldier’s eyes burned with hatred.

Those in the higher realm viewed the lower world as nothing but a livestock pen—how hateful!

“Just a vast prison,” he whispered, his eyes blazing red.

Three days later.

The Heavenly Soldier’s Iron Face was gaunt when a piercing scream jolted him awake.

Looking down, he saw the old man arching his head upward, screaming in agony, his distended abdomen as if something was about to burst forth.

A sound of tearing flesh rang out; the old man’s screams grew faint as a blood-red lifeform emerged from his abdomen.

The monster’s body was composed of flowing, molten-red energy, its eyes like two blazing flames of pure energy. After bursting free, its body rapidly grew larger and soared straight toward the passage at the sky’s end.

The old man’s life flame extinguished at that moment, yet his Iron Face still bore traces of agony.

Seeing the old man die, the Heavenly Soldier felt grief and fury.

He knew that soon, he too would be drained of blood and qi like the dead old man, and finally be torn open from within.

Yet despite his boundless hatred, he could not escape—he could only watch helplessly as despair claimed him.

“I refuse… I refuse…”

At that moment, memories flooded the Heavenly Soldier’s mind.

He saw the young man in blue robes, full of ambition for immortality, stepping onto his sect’s grounds, bowing his head in reverence, seeking the path to eternal life.

He saw the diligent youth, training his body at sunrise, meditating at sunset…

Through three seasons, his unwavering determination to pursue the Dao never wavered.

Countless nights and days passed; he poured in effort beyond imagination—yet in the end, it was all a grand conspiracy, making him a mere tool for the higher realm.

As the memory reached the moment just before his Ascension, the Heavenly Soldier suddenly opened his eyes wide.

He remembered the ancient scripture he had seen in the Zangzhen Pavilion before ascending.

The method of body dissolution left behind by a senior who, greedy for mortal pleasures, refused to ascend.

Countless textual fragments flashed through his mind.

At the end of that scripture, it recorded a reversal cultivation method: by extinguishing the inner fire, abandoning the Nascent Soul, one could shed immortality and return to mortality.

Thus, the world’s rejection vanished—and that senior had successfully remained in the mortal realm.

His heart pounded. Without hesitation, the Heavenly Soldier began practicing the senior’s method, attempting to refine the monster seed within him.

In this process, something astonishing happened.

The monster inside emitted a psychic scream, writhing in agony, as fine threads of blood and qi seeped out through his pores.

“Hahahaha!”

Seeing the monster suffer so, the Heavenly Soldier burst into excited laughter.

The process of reversing cultivation was, in truth, refining the Nascent Soul—the monster within.

During this, the Heavenly Soldier endured excruciating pain.

Crushing the monster he had nurtured inside him was like turning a living fetus into a dead one; the monster was fused with his body, and refining it was self-mutilation.

Yet his heart felt utterly liberated.

Compared to his previous despair, he now held absolute dominion over his body, free to vent his rage upon the monster within.

The monster also screamed continuously during the refining process, its expression twisting in agony.

The pain made the Heavenly Soldier laugh hysterically.

It was an indescribable agony—like severing one’s own meridians, devastating one’s life force. This pain manifested not only physically but also spiritually.

Blood flowed steadily out; the Heavenly Soldier spat out a mist of crimson.

This was part of the monster’s body being expelled.

Five days later, the monster inside died completely. The Heavenly Soldier coughed out a bloodstained fragment, completing the final refinement.

At this point, he was barely alive, his spiritual sea cracked and fractured, as if ready to collapse at any moment.

A hollow, powerless sensation rose from within; the cracked spiritual sea blurred his perception of the world.

The monster had been bound to his life; now that it was dead, he was broken—only the residual body, hardened by past body tempering and cultivation, remained functional.

Without the monster’s secretions to sustain him, he tore free from the tubes, took a deep breath, and punched forward at the semi-transparent barrier.

This barrier had been designed for the monster’s exit; even in his weakened state, he shattered it effortlessly.

Arriving at the container’s edge, the Heavenly Soldier looked down.

Below stretched an endless abyss, countless containers neatly arranged, descending without end.

He could not imagine how many breeding worlds the higher realm had built to require so many containers.

Without the monster’s granted abilities, he could no longer fly. He looked up at the passage at the dome’s peak.

He wiped the blood from his lips, a fierce expression forming on his Iron Face. Without hesitation, he ignited his own blood and qi, transforming into a fiery sphere that shot upward.

Perhaps the passage’s end was still death—but he had no other choice.

Even if he died, he would charge forward without regret toward the last sliver of hope.

Passing through the passage, soaring upward, the scene before him left the Heavenly Soldier stunned.

Below lay countless cylindrical giant containment structures—he had escaped from one of them.

As he ascended further, he saw intricate spiritual patterns crisscrossing the earth, at least a dozen spatial passages connecting to other worlds actively functioning.

The Heavenly Soldier gritted his teeth, continuing to burn his blood qi, soaring higher and fleeing toward the unknown horizon.

More than ten minutes later, the Heavenly Soldier flew out of the island and entered the boundless blue ocean.

Yet he did not stop flying; he kept burning his already scarce blood qi, striving with all his strength to escape as far as possible.

If he stopped now, he could be captured at any moment by the “Immortals” of the Immortal Realm.

During this time, his consciousness grew hazy; his already shattered soul sea space teetered on the brink of collapse. The Heavenly Soldier no longer knew how long he had flown—until his head tilted sideways and he fainted completely, transforming into a fiery ball of blood qi that tore across the sky and plummeted straight toward the sea surface.

BOOM!

The instant his body touched the sea, massive waves surged up, and his boiling blood qi vaporized vast stretches of seawater.

The seawater gradually submerged the Heavenly Soldier’s body, dragging him deeper and deeper.

At that moment, a figure manipulated countless silver-finned fish that surged forward, the school biting onto the Heavenly Soldier’s body and dragging it toward shore.

But the process proved extraordinarily difficult.

Not long after, the fish school dragged the Heavenly Soldier’s body onto land.

“Holy shit, what the hell did you eat? How the hell are you this heavy? You’ve worn out my good brother!”

Though he had exerted no physical effort, Yu Yun instinctively wiped his forehead—yet no sweat appeared.

He looked down at a silver-finned fish with its eyes rolled back, reached into the water, pulled it out, and spoke to its gaping mouth:

“Brother, looks like you’re done for. Soon you’ll merge into my body and stay with me forever.”

With that, Yu Yun turned his gaze to the humanoid creature dragged ashore. Focusing his eyes, he activated his Analytical Ability—relevant information flooded into his mind.

【Heavenly Soldier】

Hunting Level: 75 (Target has been stripped of its core power source; body severely damaged. Hunting level reassessed to 75.)

Target Analysis: A lifeform from the apex of the Tian Ding World’s ecosystem. Originally a flesh parasite bred by the Ascension Clan, it shattered the void and descended into the Monster World.

……

“Even severely wounded, it’s still level 75? Damn strong!”

Seeing the analysis, Yu Yun was utterly astonished.

Its near-death intensity was almost on par with Old Man Tianhuo—he could only imagine how powerful this Heavenly Soldier had been in his prime.

But what followed was ecstatic joy.

“I’m rich!”

He reached into his spatial satchel and pulled out a blue battle axe of quality 8, then charged forward and began hacking wildly.

But Yu Yun soon stopped.

He realized he couldn’t break through the Heavenly Soldier’s outer defense—the axe struck his body and jolted his hands with pain.

The target lost not a single drop of health; instead, Yu Yun lost considerable HP.

“Damn it! I can’t even get a foothold!”

(_) Today’s 10,000-character chapter complete.



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(End of Chapter)