Chapter 252

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Chapter 252: Title

Ye Er stared in shock at the chaos unfolding before her. Questions burned on her tongue, but explanations would have to wait.

The Abyss Mother sensed the Haotian Mirror’s unsealing instantly. Her wrathful gaze fell upon the interlopers from Another World – invaders now standing within her very sanctum. Through the Kunlun Mirror’s power, foreign laws began permeating the Abyss as the Source World’s Heavenly Dao voraciously consumed its dark principles. Even within Ye Linlang’s research lab, the Abyss’ shackled rules shattered at alarming speed.

"It’s unsealed."

Xiao Tianji beckoned the group while answering tersely, "This victory belongs to you."

The Abyss’ rejection struck them like physical blow, its crimson-black tendrils writhing up the cliffside beneath their formation. Though Xiao Tianji’s tier six peak strength sufficed against common abyssal creatures, they now faced the living incarnation of the Abyss itself – an entity whose mere existence crushed lesser beings beneath cosmic weight.

Severed tentacles oozed blood-like ichor across the ground, birthing swarms of feeble but innumerable abyss demons. Worse still came the approaching aura of three Abyssal Kings – tier seven sovereigns in their domain, rendering escape impossible.

Xiao Tianji’s hand shot out, hurling Ye Er toward the Haotian Mirror’s protective formation just as abyssal creatures began their assault. The abrupt maneuver left her sprawled on cold stone, dazed by both impact and the commander’s hidden power.

"Why toss me here?" She scrambled up, only to freeze before the seething tide of monstrosities. "Damn you! When I get out, you’re dead!" she roared, kicking at the barrier. "First the trap, now this monster pit?"

"Channel spiritual energy into the Mirror." Steel flashed as Xiao Tianji’s long sword carved through abyssal ranks, his voice betraying no strain. "My apologies."

Ye Er’s frown deepened. Millennia in the Special Bureau’s sheltered halls had preserved her straightforward nature, while Xiao Tianji’s eternal mystery now rang alarm bells. Still, she pressed palms against the ancient artifact – comrades trusted, and he’d never failed her.

"My reserves are low!" She shouted over the din of battle, clutching spiritual stones. "What next?"

"Everything." He bisected a tier five demon mid-leap, meeting her gaze with unprecedented solemnity. "This hinges on you. Hold fast, Ye Er – even unto death."

Her breath caught at his funereal tone. Nodding grimly, she began draining stones with desperate efficiency. Each surge through her meridians brought searing agony, yet she welcomed the pain – Xiao Tianji’s "generous" stone allocation finally made sense.

The commander danced through abyssal hordes, knowing the Mirror’s barrier would hold against all but the Mother’s true form. How much energy would suffice? Only time would tell – time his blade must purchase.

Blood filled his mouth as he swallowed another scream. Bearing the Kunlun Mirror’s unsealing strain came with being its master – a privilege the Haotian Mirror would never grant.

The most crucial matter… As the foremost master of divination, Xiao Tianji knew full well that the Haotian Mirror should never have been unsealed in this era, much less transported to Another World.

Forcibly breaking its seal during an era when it should remain sealed would exact a toll on the Kunlun Mirror’s master—his lifespan, cultivation… After this ordeal, his realm would undoubtedly plummet catastrophically.

Xiao Tianji wiped blood from his lips and swallowed several medicinal pills. The original plan had called for genuine tier seven experts, but they’d discovered higher-tier practitioners couldn’t cross the dimensional rift. Yet the mission allowed no failure.

They’d known before entering the Abyss they would face tier seven Abyssal Kings. A band of tier six peak cultivators confronting such foes might as well offer their necks for slaughter. Hence, each carried a Boundary-Breaking Pill.

Forged by the Floating Cloud Immortal Officer, these pills granted a four-hour surge through one major realm. The price? Two fallen tiers and total cultivation collapse afterward. But during those precious hours, they became true Tier Seven Practitioners.

Tier seven—the Realm of Dao Ascension.

At this stage, one could rightfully claim the title of immortal.

Mere moments after swallowing the pills, they felt their cultivation realms tremble at the threshold.

Almost simultaneously, Xiao Tianji and his tier six peak companions shattered their limits—ascending as one to tier seven.

A single Dao Ascendant couldn’t stall an Abyssal King bolstered by home terrain, but two could pin down one.

Of the fifteen who’d breached the Abyss, eight still drew breath.

The Abyss Mother’s writhing tendrils carried fragments of her primordial power. Only those who’d immediately consumed Boundary-Breaking Pills had withstood the assault through forcibly amplified cultivation.

"Defilers of the earth mother perish."

The first Abyssal King descended with fleshy wings eclipsing the sky, monstrous black talons scything toward the group.

Within the protective formation, Ye Er’s qi spiraled wildly. Blood sprayed from her lips, crimson droplets striking the Haotian Mirror’s surface… The purple mist’s flow seemed to quicken. She frowned, uncertain if imagination or truth gripped her.

Testing would reveal all.

Drawing her dagger, Ye Er slashed across her wrist without hesitation, letting her lifeblood spill onto the mirror’s glass.

"It works," she whispered, blade flashing faster.

During their earlier struggle, the Haotian Mirror had synchronized with her spiritual energy. Now it drank greedily, beyond her power to stop.

"Not enough."

Ignoring the battle raging beyond, Ye Er reopened half-healed wounds. At tier six peak, shallow cuts sealed too swiftly—each new strike bit deep, some scraping bone.

The Haotian Mirror thrummed like a celestial engine within the Abyss, accelerating the source world’s dissection and consumption of this realm’s fundamental laws.

The Abyss Mother could tolerate no more. She manifested her true form—a pulsating mountain of black flesh studded with crimson tendrils that evoked visceral revulsion, like a tumor given cosmic scale.

As an entity born of primordial rules, her assaults struck the Haotian Mirror with devastating efficacy. Cracks spiderwebbed through the divine artifact’s protective formations, multiplying under her onslaught.

Abyssal creatures assaulting the mirror dissolved into viscous streams, absorbed into their progenitor’s grotesque bulk.

In a frozen moment stretching between heartbeats, as the mirror’s radiance flickered toward extinction, Ye Er swayed and crumpled before the ancient relic.

Whiteness swallowed her vision. So heavy, her eyelids… As she fell, a barbed tentacle speared toward her unprotected back.

Elsewhere:

[Current rule analysis 90%, Devour Progress 90%…]

"Enough."

Ye Linlang closed her eyes, her consciousness descending into the distant Abyss.

Her exchange with the system lasted but a breath.

Arriving at the critical moment, she swiftly manipulated the purple mist into a protective barrier against the lashing tentacles.

None of this reached Ye Er’s awareness.

Amidst her fading senses, a single phrase echoed:

[Rest if weary.]

Could she truly rest? How lovely—this time she’d sleep longer. Upon waking, she’d surely punch Xiao Tianji…

As consciousness slipped away, Ye Linlang caught the system’s redundant announcement:

[Descent complete.]

The next instant, ‘She’ awakened.

Jet-black hair bled into argent purity, eyes blazing with glacial golden light. With a gesture, the Haotian Mirror shrank and flew to her palm.

"Perish."

At her decree, thunderbolts ripped through the Abyss’s eternal night—primordial fury threatening to sunder reality itself.

All beings shuddered beneath this celestial wrath.

Abyssal creatures gaped at their crimson moon trembling in the maelstrom, its scarlet glow dimming against the storm.

Where lightning struck, the earth convulsed. Fissures glowed with alien hues as countless abyssal forms dissolved to ash, easing Xiao Tianji’s burden.

Even tier seven Abyssal Kings retreated, their regeneration useless against thunder imbued with annihilation’s rule power.

"Ye Er—"

A voice faltered upon witnessing her transformation. No trace of human cultivator remained—only an entity demanding prostration, mortal flesh radiating divine authority.

Heaven’s avatar walked among them.

The Abyss Mother roared, recognizing the threat. Lightning targeted her massive form, charring eldritch flesh faster than regeneration could mend. Though destruction’s rules eluded her grasp, each strike slowed her movements.

Ye Linlang hadn’t foreseen such swift resolution. Her avatar’s audacity shocked her—sacrificing itself to break the Haotian Mirror’s seals, then using another vessel’s cultivation to hasten the deity’s descent.

On Blue Star, only she wielded such rule power. The Heavenly Dao, committed to ancient pacts, wouldn’t manifest its true form here.

While Ye Linlang’s original body endured the force from the world’s origin, Ye Er’s mortal frame strained under converging rule power. Raw divine energy sculpted flesh into temporary deity—a living vessel for powers second only to source power itself.

Where Abyss and Blue Star’s forces balanced, concentrated rule power shattered natural limits, ascending its bearer beyond mortal constraints.

Ye Linlang couldn’t help but feel a twinge of exasperation when she discerned their intentions. The truth of her standing was known only to herself and the world consciousness – without complete mastery of universal principles, her supposed sixteenth-tier status remained illusory.

Yet facing the Abyss Mother alone held no fear for her. Her divine stature arose not merely from accumulated effort, but from being woven into reality’s fabric since the world’s dawn. Should she choose to expend her source power, channeling cosmic authority beyond mortal comprehension became entirely feasible.

The Abyss Mother’s essence represented but a shadow of the true Abyss’s primordial laws. Thousands of years spent contemplating universal truths had honed Ye Linlang’s understanding – though reluctant to squander her vital energies, she recognized efficiency’s brutal necessity.

As Blue Star’s supreme deity, failure against a mere low-tier manifestation from some tier six peak realm would render her existence meaningless.

Her impassive gaze settled upon the writhing Abyss Mother. Around them, the very fabric of reality convulsed as swirling rule power coalesced into crystalline purity, its crushing weight fixing upon the trembling entity.

Creation and destruction pulsed through Ye Linlang’s veins – twin forces perfected through eons of meditation. While quantity of mastered principles mattered, quality reigned supreme… This confrontation had concluded before the Abyss Mother even manifested.

"Annihilate," she intoned.

The cosmic drama unfolded within temporal fragments – Ye Er’s collapse, the Abyss Mother’s materialization, and its subsequent dissolution occurring faster than mortal eyes could register. The pseudo-Ye Er tilted her head toward the three survivors, banishing them with an idle gesture.

Chaoswarmed through the disintegrating Abyss layer. As the Mother’s bonds unraveled, her strongest servants perished first – a cascading extinction rippling through reality’s foundations.

Xiao Tianji met that fleeting gaze unflinchingly. No regret colored his resolve, though sorrow for Ye Er lingered like phantom pain.

Ye Linlang contemplated the artifact in her palm. A mere pass of her hand restored the prematurely awakened Haotian Mirror to dormancy. Let history remember Xiao Tianji as Kunlun Mirror’s keeper – the celestial counterpart required different stewardship.

Haotian Mirror.

Its celestial name demanded a sovereign’s touch, a ruler to bridge divine will and mortal realms. In her grand design, such an arbiter would emerge – neither deity nor mortal, yet commanding all beneath heaven. But Blue Star’s current fragility couldn’t sustain this cosmic counterweight.

"The Dao remains dispassionate," she murmured, watching the Kunlun Mirror shrink to palm-size before hurtling toward destiny. Let it seek its true master through the unraveling cosmos.

Alone amidst collapsing dimensions, Ye Linlang observed annihilation’s beauty. This dying realm would nourish greater existences – a fitting end for failed creation. Every Abyssal creature perished as their Mother’s essence dissipated, their fates irrevocably intertwined.

Sudden intuition stayed her hand. Channeling primordial energies through the crumbling void, she scoured away residual corruption – safeguarding Blue Star while reshaping the Abyss layer into something… new.

Destruction’s final breath became creation’s first gasp.

·

A rasping cough echoed through newborn emptiness.

Xiao Tianji’s face was as pale as parchment, crimson streams flowing from his lips to stain his white robes. Channeling spiritual energy through trembling fingers, he pressed against critical meridians to stem his ebbing vitality. This outcome had been foreseen – with his energy channels sealed, he now stood equal to ordinary people.

As the Abyss Mother perished, every abyssal creature across Blue Star dissolved into shimmering motes that danced briefly before vanishing. The trio found themselves atop the Nine Provinces defense line’s battlements, gazing upon a battlefield where countless horrors faded into ephemeral light.

"We’ve prevailed…" breathed the short-haired youth.

The woman with her hair bound in a high ponytail knelt beside Xiao Tianji. "Master Xiao?" Her calloused hands supported his sagging frame.

"Better than expected," he rasped, attempting to rise while clutching his wounded flank. His palm brushed against something warm beneath his bloodied garments – the Kunlun Mirror, its familiar contours pressing against his skin.

"Signal them." The command emerged as a frayed whisper.

The young guard started, then hurled a specially engraved flare skyward. Its luminous patterns bloomed like celestial flowers above the now-silent battlefield, where only moments before, abyssal legions had raged.

Leng Xingwen recognized those sigils instantly. His flying sword carved through empty air as he raced toward the source, faster than any mounted archer’s arrow. No sword cultivator’s blade could match his velocity across the heavens.

…

Xiao Tianji slumped against cold stone, exhaustion weighting his limbs like leaden chains. The Abyss expedition had exacted its toll. When sword light split the clouds above, he anticipated reinforcements – yet never imagined Leng Xingwen would lead the vanguard.

The swordsman descended like a comet, abandoning his blade mid-air to reach Xiao Tianji’s side. "By the Nine Heavens!" His fingers found the strategist’s wrist, probing for spiritual energy’s telltale pulse. "Your meridians… We need physicians. Now."

As others arrived in swirling contrails of cultivation energy, Leng Xingwen hauled Xiao Tianji onto his still-hovering sword. The general in archaic armor nodded sharply. "Go. We’ll secure the perimeter."

"Your injuries require attention too," an adjutant informed the remaining duo.

The tall woman inclined her head. "Our gratitude, General." Her companion’s eyes remained fixed on the horizon where their leader’s sword already dwindled to a silver speck.

Beneath them, the Nine Provinces defense line stood silent – a testament to cultures both alien and familiar, where the title "General" bridged worlds through shared sacrifice.

Xiao Tianji was brought by Leng Xingwen to tend to his injuries. Though vaguely aware of Xiao Tianji’s recent actions, Leng Xingwen remained uncertain of the details.

The expedition to the Abyss had been shrouded in secrecy, known to fewer than ten individuals. Yet given their bond, complete concealment from Leng Xingwen had never been feasible.

“So you’ve just returned from the Abyss,” Leng Xingwen stated after hearing the account.

Xiao Tianji paused before murmuring, “…Yes. Only us now.”

Leng Xingwen gripped his shoulder, sensing the storm beneath his calm. “Rest. Don’t dwell on it.”

A staff member hurried in, clutching a special communication device. “Mr. Xiao—Director Lin’s call.”

“Thank you,” Xiao Tianji accepted the device.

As the messenger withdrew, Leng Xingwen remained planted on the opposite bed, his presence unyielding. Knowing persuasion would fail, Xiao Tianji simply activated the communicator.

“Lin Jing speaking.”

“We’ve received full reports from the Abyss.” Lin Jing’s voice carried solemn gratitude. “The Blue Star United Council will proclaim your deeds. You’ve saved countless lives.”

Xiao Tianji acknowledged this lightly. Honors meant little to him, yet he understood their balm for grieving families—those left behind when warriors from multiple nations, comrades and rivals alike, became permanent shadows in the Abyss. Only three now carried their collective failure.

After relaying official protocols, Lin Jing’s cadence fractured. “Ye Er…?”

Xiao Tianji’s answer fell like a tombstone. “Gone.”

The silence stretched before Lin Jing whispered, “No possibility of… return?”

They both knew the truth—souls claimed by the Abyss dissolved beyond rebirth. Yet hope, that most human of frailties, lingered. Across Blue Star, only deities or Xiao Tianji’s divinations might challenge such cosmic laws.

Xiao Tianji’s gaze drifted to the Kunlun Mirror beside him. The jade turtle materialized in his palm, its shell catching sterile hospital light.

“Stop.” Leng Xingwen seized his wrist. “You never repeat readings.”

“Exceptions exist.” Xiao Tianji twisted free, the turtle’s glow intensifying. “Variables shift.”

Lin Jing’s breath hitched over the communicator—aware of cracked meridians reported by medics, torn between desperate hope and dread of what this defiance might cost.

"Your health comes first. We can wait until you’ve recovered," Leng Xingwen urged.

Xiao Tianji shook his head resolutely. "No."

This might be his last chance. Meeting Leng Xingwen’s gaze with bloodshot eyes, he insisted, "Let me attempt this once."

"There’s no danger—the physician is right outside," Xiao Tianji countered, anticipating his concern. "I understand my own limits. This won’t kill me."

Leng Xingwen withdrew his restraining hand with a scoff. "Do as you please. I’ve never been able to control you anyway."

Xiao Tianji passed the communication device to him before plucking the spiritual needle from his shoulder. The delicate silver filament had been suppressing his meridians, its removal immediately restoring the coursing flow of spiritual energy through his veins.

Cradling the jade turtle in his palm, he closed his eyes in concentration.

Within moments, crimson stained his lips as he convulsed. The sacred artifact fractured into irreparable shards, its luminous green fragments scattering across the floor like broken promises.

"Xiao Tianji!" Leng Xingwen caught him as he swayed, alarm sharpening his voice.

Never in their years of companionship had he witnessed the divination master falter. The act of reading heavenly signs came as naturally to Xiao Tianji as breathing—until this catastrophic moment.

The silver-haired man slumped against him, eyelids fluttering weakly, yet his fingers curled into bloodless fists. "The cosmos… retaliates…" A manic laugh bubbled through bloody coughs. "Hah! The Heavenly Mandate’s punishment… What splendid fortune!"

Leng Xingwen’s palm struck his pressure point before the sentence ended, easing the convulsing form into unconsciousness.

"Lin Jing," he addressed the communication device, "collect your seer when he regains sense."

A voice crackled through: "His condition?"

Observing the faint smile clinging to Xiao Tianji’s ashen lips, Leng Xingwen murmured, "Critical. Yet perhaps… this ominous divination heralds unexpected hope."

·

Ye Linlang cupped the newborn universe in her palm—a luminous orb no larger than a quail’s egg, its pearlescent surface swirling with nascent energies. The reconstructed world pulsed gently, purified of the Abyss’ corruption yet retaining the essential nature of its source world origins.

From her vantage atop the World Tree’s crown, tendrils of primordial mist coiled through branches spanning infinite dimensions. This sanctum obeyed her will alone, its labyrinthine chambers shifting to match her whims.

Today’s destination surprised even her. Instead of the customary study filled with celestial charts, she stood in a sterile chamber—walls of polished moonstone framing a single obsidian table. Beyond panoramic windows, galaxies swirled in an endless sea of stars.

Placing the embryonic seed of the world upon the dark surface, she uncurled her other hand to reveal soul fragments—twinkling motes salvaged from the Abyss’ collapse. Though bearing traces of Blue Star’s essence, these fractured spirits could never reincarnate naturally.

Her gaze shifted between the dormant seed and the drifting lights. "Born of the Abyss, awakened through its destruction…" she mused. "Perhaps this fledgling realm is your destined rebirth."

With a thought, she wove stolen memories into the soul fragments—echoes of mortal lives from Blue Star’s timeline. Whether these ghosts would cherish or despise their resurrected pasts mattered little.

The architect of worlds smiled faintly as the motes dissolved into the seed’s glow. Her duty ended where their new journey began.

The Heavenly Dao was fair; their conquest of the Abyss deserved appropriate recompense.

Having completed all this, Ye Linlang turned her attention to the World Fruit.

The evolution of this small world would require vast ages, and their Awakening through rebirth would demand equally prolonged durations… Contemplating this, her eyes drifted toward the dozen floating motes of light.

Among these luminous specks, one differed from the rest – a golden-glowing particle encircled by others in silent guardianship.

Ye Linlang recognized this radiant fragment’s origin.

When Ye Er perished, the divine essence animating her incarnation had returned to its source. Yet through serendipity, a soul-shard lingered – an unconscious wisp preserving memories of the ‘Ye Er’ identity.

As rule power converged, scouring every fiber of existence from marrow to spirit, this fragment became unique through its saturation with primordial law.

Summoning the pale World Fruit, Ye Linlang traced "Demon World" upon its surface with fingertip brushstrokes. The artifact shifted hue as she completed the inscription, actively drawing the ambient lights into its nascent core.

Observing the transformed "Demon World" in her palm, she noted the captured wisp of source world’s corruption – formerly confined by her seals, now repurposed as fertile ground for malignant growth.

—Fuel for the Demon World’s gestation.

To combat evil with evil was not an unworthy solution.

Through the World’s perception, Ye Linlang beheld the colossus bridging celestial and terrestrial realms.

Ye Er’s rule-tempered vessel stood impervious to all but cosmic law itself.

Its collapse commenced when spiritual sustenance withdrew.

The Demon World, now a structured Small World through Ye Linlang’s crafting, received the falling titan’s remains.

The mountainous corpse became the world-spanning spine of new geography.

Final exhalations manifested as primordial mists and nourishing rains. Flesh petrified into unyielding stone, while lifeblood rivers carved valleys and plateaus across the embryonic landscape… Thus began the world’s slow metamorphosis, spanning millennia toward eventual completion.

The golden mote descended first, embedding itself within the cardiac region. Subsequent fragments alighted elsewhere, crystallizing into crimson cocoons. Ye Linlang understood – these vessels would birth the world’s first native beings.

Though Ye Er’s soul-shard deserved no reincarnation, existence demanded preservation. Her incarnation had transcended mere avatarhood through millennia of service. Now severed from divine connection, any future incarnation bearing these memories would attribute divine sparks to fortunate rebirth rather than true origin.

This mirrored her design for all incarnations. Within the source world’s near-omniscience, Ye Linlang perceived their inevitable emancipation from her essence.

—No threads of causality could bind the supreme deity. Fate’s tapestry held no dominion over the eternal.

Contemplation brought serenity.

Suddenly, Ye Linlang detected celestial calculations probing her essence.

Such divinations mattered little unless directed at herself. A golden thread materialized in her grasp, one end rooted in Demon World, the other…

Her gaze pierced dimensions, revealing the meditating figure of Xiao Tianji.

"Cease your reckoning." A fingernail’s flick against the thread sent blood spraying from the augur’s lips.

"These mysteries surpass your license."

The admonishment reminded her – this entire incarnation’s loss and Haotian Mirror’s premature unsealing, which tangled fate-lines beyond recognition, traced back to this mortal’s meddling. Knowing better, he’d still trespassed.

Words failed her.

"This is your tribulation, yet perhaps also a blessing."

Ye Linlang gazed at Xiao Tianji, who smiled through the heavenly retribution coursing through him. The unsealing of Haotian Mirror had drained his vitality, while his revelation of celestial truths had torn fate’s tapestry – his remaining days dwindled like sand through an hourglass.

Should Xiao Tianji perish, his plunge into reincarnation’s wheel would sever their fated bond.

In another lifetime, he would become mere mortal dust while she remained divine essence.

Two strands of existence never to intertwine.

"…Let it be so."

Ye Linlang’s whisper dissolved into the wind as she turned from the fading diviner.

Her attention flowed toward Blue Star below, its war-torn surface slowly stitching itself back together. The celestial mirror’s light shifted, revealing humanity’s first fragile steps toward post-war renewal.

…

Blue Star.

A decade of global conflict had left the planet gaunt and weary. Never since the Awakening of Spiritual Energy had such formidable adversaries emerged to test humanity’s resolve.

Ghost in Red paced through rain-slicked streets, her crimson robes swirling like blood in water. Beside her, Yujue angled his umbrella with practiced care, creating a dry sanctuary beneath the storm.

"It’s finally over," Yujue murmured.

The downpour carried the acrid sting of extinguished gunpowder earthward. Occasionally, serpentine shadows undulated within thunderheads – celestial dragons cleansing battlefields with their aqueous breath.

Ghost in Red’s fingers closed around his wrist, redirecting the umbrella’s shelter. "Your shoulder’s soaked," she chided, tracing damp fabric with disapproval.

Her hands flickered through incantations – first drying the dampness, then weaving an invisible canopy above them.

Yujue’s laughter rumbled like distant thunder. "Darling, I’ve been healed for centuries."

Yet Ghost in Red’s arched brows silenced further protest. After three hundred years, she still fussed over him like the convalescent scholar she’d first resurrected.

The streets teemed with life reborn. Families emerged from decade-long bunkers, children’s laughter cracking war’s frozen silence. Though Abyssal threats had vanished mere weeks prior, market stalls already blossomed like spring crocuses through ash.

Their unhurried footsteps traced liquid patterns across glistening pavement. Yesterday’s summons from the Special Bureau lay folded in Ghost in Red’s sleeve, its crisp formality contrasting with their meandering path.

As the Bureau’s obsidian tower pierced the horizon, familiar faces emerged from the mist.

A fox-eared youth bounded from Yang Xingyu’s umbrella, tails wagging beneath rainproof charms. "Sister Red! Brother Yujue!"

Yang Xingyu scowled through mouthfuls of scallion pancake, grease-streaked paper bag crumpling in his grip. "Hu Mei! Get back here before you catch cold!"

Nearby, Wen Renyi strolled through the deluge untouched. Raindrops curved around her like liquid glass, the water-avoiding spell glimmering faintly.

"Need shelter?" Yang called out.

Wen Renyi waved a dismissive hand just as Yang incinerated his trash. Flames hissed against damp air as he lunged for Hu Mei’s collar.

"Can’t you read the mood? Why play the third wheel for no reason?"

Across the street, a woman clad in azure robes with an ancient guqin strapped to her back approached leisurely.

Youyang gazed forward and remarked to Bai Wei beside her, "Senior Brother, look—it’s Yang Xingyu and the others."

Bai Wei tightened her grip on the paper parasol. "Senior Yujue has also arrived."

Upon reuniting at the Special Bureau headquarters, they exchanged pleasantries before entering the hall where numerous acquaintances waited.

"This meeting today seems weighty," Yang Xingyu mused, stroking his chin as his eyes settled on the White Sword Cultivator reclining against a pillar. "Even Senior Ji Lang is present."

Hu Mei shrugged. "Likely tied to the conclave convened days ago."

"An extraordinary number of… individuals have gathered."

Resplendent in opulent attire, Xihua swept into the hall and instantly locked eyes with Floating Cloud Immortal Officer on the sofa. A sly grin curled her lips as she materialized behind the girl, palms shielding those bright eyes.

"Guess who, darling?"

The magazine in Floating Cloud’s hands dipped as darkness fell. A familiar voice whispered by her ear while fluttering lashes tickled Xihua’s palms.

"Xihua. My vision’s obscured."

Releasing her hold with a chuckle, Xihua settled beside the immortal officer, draping an arm over slender shoulders.

"What wind blew you from the White Jade Capital’s seclusion?"

"I serve as delegate to the United Council." Floating Cloud’s composed answer only spurred Xihua to pinch her cheek, amused by such formality.

"Delightful coincidence—I represent the spirit cultivators."

Xihua’s gaze swept the assembly: human cultivator elites mingled with faction leaders of every stripe.

This United Council gathered representatives from all source world denizens—humans, celestials, buddhas, spirits, ghosts, even demon kin. Yet conspicuously absent were envoys from the demon path, its ranks barren of worthy heirs since primordial fiends ceased emerging millennia past.

As the final delegate entered, reality itself warped. Veterans recognized the spatial formation’s hum—never had the Special Bureau deployed such lavish measures. When the distortion cleared, soft meadow grass cushioned their feet beneath an alien sky where Eastern and Western visages mingled.

Chairs materialized in precise ranks, guiding each participant to appointed seats. Above them, figures coalesced on a levitating dais wreathed in mist—the Blue Star United Council members.

"To facilitate discourse," declared the central figure, "we’ve secured the Heavenly Law Battleground as our forum. Our agenda spans the source world’s future and its satellite small worlds."

His voice hardened. "The abyssal invasion revealed fatal weaknesses in our readiness. Our paramount failing? Insufficient strength!"

"Mark this—the void’s hunger won’t cease with one incursion. Interworld war permits no mercy. Since solitary power cannot shield existence itself, we must forge strength into every soul’s essence—until resilience becomes our universal creed!"

"We must transform the world’s essence into our own strength. Though mortals may not yet rival deities, as the world grows stronger, the day will come when we ascend beyond the divine realm…"

The divine realm.

Tier One marks transcendence from mundanity, the true commencement of evolution within the Hierarchy of Life.

At Tier Seven’s entry to the Immortal Realm, one joins celestial ranks, attaining lifespans exceeding ten millennia.

Tier Twelve embodies divinity itself – masters of cosmic laws who escape life’s cycle, achieving near-immortality through internalized universal truths.

A world’s tier dictates cultivation limits. Higher-tier worlds bestow greater boons upon their inhabitants. As a complete grand world, the source world’s boundless potential renders all achievements attainable through dedication.

The weak yearn for strength; the strong crave eternity.

Interworld conflicts bring brutal strife yet bountiful rewards. Through Six Hundred Years of showcasing dominance and absorbing vanquished worlds’ essence, the source world ascended to tier six peak. Now, with the digested abyssal source power, its breakthrough from this threshold appears imminent.

Over thousands of years, human cultivators have systematized source world elevation requirements, enabling precise calculations of necessary energies with minimal deviation.

…

The marathon conference distilled world elevation into sequential five-hundred-year plans, their core mantra being relentless growth.

Ye Linlang observed proceedings with maternal pride. What greater joy than witnessing her cherished progeny embrace self-improvement? Since becoming Blue Star’s major deity, she’d nurtured her creations with hen-like protectiveness – publicly advocating independence while secretly commanding her system to optimize their survival odds through endless calculations.

To her, a major deity served as cosmic parent. Letting children weather storms alone cultivated true resilience.

"Rescue them constantly," she mused, "and you breed helpless nestlings. Let tempests temper them, and they’ll stand unshaken between heaven and earth." Future calamities would find them prepared.

Yet her mercy remained: let any world attempt bullying, and they’d answer to her first. While "youngsters’ quarrels bring elder intervention" held truth elsewhere, she’d personally handle any deities meddling in her domain.

"Grow stronger!" she silently urged. "Meet coming trials through strength alone." Their initiative demanded her support as both guardian and guide.

Her gaze fell upon the system’s document – each line a world awaiting judgment. Newborn realms always drew predators, and her source world’s periphery teemed with low-tier small worlds originally deployed as fishing traps. Perhaps expanding this predatory network might prove beneficial?

Blue Star’s elevation data gave her pause. The abyssal source world’s essence now nourished Demon World’s gestation rather than aiding source world’s ascent. Yet her habitual essence reserves allowed compensation through harvesting excess energy from minor realms – more than sufficient for tier six peak breakthrough.

With mischievous delight, Ye Linlang multiplied subsequent elevation requirements by 1.5x.

"Even cosmic stewards face shortages," she rationalized. Between nurturing evolving worlds and managing source world’s growth, essence remained perpetually scarce.

As she adjusted plans, new considerations emerged: how to handle proliferating annexed small worlds? Excessive low-tier attachments risked resource drains – their meager essence output potentially demanding subsidies.

Inspiration struck: merge incompatible minor realms. She began calculating World Fusion parameters – optimal cluster sizes, synergy between realm types, essence consumption ratios…

The cosmic architect smiled, quill dancing across reality’s blueprint.

No matter how many times one witnesses the world’s ascension, the spectacle never loses its wonder. As the density of Spiritual Energy gradually reaches its critical threshold, an innate joy radiates from every living being across heaven and earth.

In mere moments, blossoms erupt across the land while the sky blazes with radiant hues.

This celestial phenomenon lasts but a minute.

Most seize this moment for silent meditation, absorbing the surging energy, while others had entered closed-door cultivation days prior when the Spiritual Energy first began rising – all cultivators stranded at the tier six peak, yearning for breakthrough.

The coming days would undoubtedly bring news of numerous ascensions to tier seven.

At Kunlun’s snow-crowned zenith,

Ji Lang stood sword in hand as the auroral lights faded, his expression uncharacteristically soft.

Beside him appeared Xiao Tianji, long absent from these peaks. The morning wind played with his white daoist robes, their fluttering sleeves accentuating his scholarly charm with an edge of untamed grace.

For Ji Lang, whose cultivation already rested at tier seven, the world’s ascension had fully restored his power. The oppressive weight lifted, leaving his mind crystalline and spirit invigorated.

Xiao Tianji’s visit surprised him.

With but a thought, his tier seven consciousness could span a thousand miles. Since Kunlun’s elevation to immortal realm, none contested his status as its strongest cultivator – this mountain had become his undisputed training ground.

The Kunlun Mirror’s presence announced Xiao Tianji’s arrival before snow crunched underfoot. Yet before Ji Lang could send spiritual summons, the diviner materialized beside him.

Ji Lang’s habitual sword practice at this peak wasn’t common knowledge, but those familiar with him knew it well.

Xiao Tianji’s message arrived moments before he did.

"You seem startled by my visit," Xiao Tianji remarked with amusement.

"You should be convalescing."

The sword cultivator’s tone implied disapproval. Since their abyssal expedition, Xiao Tianji’s wounds stubbornly persisted – a fact Leng Xingwen had lamented while seeking remedies Ji Lang couldn’t provide.

Murder came naturally to a sword cultivator; healing arts lay beyond his expertise.

As divine incarnates, both knew Ye Er’s true nature. Their kind shouldn’t face mortal ends, yet her recent passing proved even celestials could fall. Ji Lang suspected Xiao Tianji’s involvement, but such intrigues held no interest for him.

Indifference stayed his questions.

"This body persists in its limbo," Xiao Tianji shrugged. "Neither healing nor failing. Spare no concern."

Ji Lang’s frosty gaze held. "Concern isn’t my purpose. I simply dislike disturbances."

Xiao Tianji’s laughter echoed across peaks. "Does Xingwen pester you so? Though surely you could vanish from his sight entirely."

Silence answered, more telling than words.

"I come seeking aid," the diviner redirected.

This intrigued Ji Lang. Their relationship transcended mere friendship, bound by shared celestial nature yet devoid of intimacy.

"Speak."

Reluctance tinged his response. Xiao Tianji’s reputation as Heaven’s Reader loomed large – those he petitioned inevitably complied. Refusal seemed futile against his schemes.

Xiao Tianji retrieved the Kunlun Mirror from his Purple Mansion. The artifact had been his companion for millennia, bound to him as a cultivator’s life-bound treasure. "I came for this," he stated.

The Kunlun Mirror’s legend loomed large. Even without Ji Lang’s deep ties to Kunlun, few would fail to recognize this relic ranked among the spiritual treasure ranking’s top ten, its exact dimensions and design meticulously documented across the digital realm.

"Kunlun Mirror."

"Precisely."

Sickly pallor still clung to Xiao Tianji’s features, his condition hovering between precarious stability and distant mortality. "I wish to entrust it to you."

"Your death approaches?"

Ji Lang’s brow arched. The seer’s grave demeanor suggested final arrangements, compounded by the unnatural act of surrendering one’s life-bound treasure.

Xiao Tianji couldn’t help but wince at his bluntness. "Not imminent."

"Explain." The swordmaster’s grip flexed on his weapon. Though initially indifferent to Xiao Tianji’s affairs, recent events – Ye Er’s situation and now this fatalistic display – demanded answers.

"My failing," the seer murmured, eyes drifting toward snow-veiled peaks as if seeing beyond physical horizons. "Perhaps fate’s design."

His gaze pierced through mountain vistas to perceive cosmic threads – countless filaments weaving through all living beings into an inescapable web. None immersed in this mortal realm could evade…

"You’ve foreseen something." Certainty hardened Ji Lang’s voice. "Speak it."

Xiao Tianji pressed a finger to lips, adopting that infuriating mystic’s grin. "Secrets of heaven cannot be disclosed. To voice them would…"

The unspoken consequence hung heavy as Ji Lang’s deepening scowl met only amused silence.

"For our shared history," Xiao Tianji ventured, "you’ll oblige?"

"I won’t."

"Then necessity compels me." Resignation colored his tone. "I’ll leave it in Kunlun’s embrace. Perhaps I’ll reclaim it."

"You?"

"Who can say?" The seer’s chuckle held self-deprecation. "Even I dare not claim omniscience. Others’ flattery, not my boasts."

Ji Lang declined physical contact. Spiritual energy flared around the mirror, propelling it across vast distances until white radiance pierced Tianchi Lake’s depths. As celestial brilliance dimmed beneath sacred waters, only two witnesses remained to this veiled transaction.

"Stay there, and await your return."

Xiao Tianji hadn’t anticipated this response; pressing his lips together, he murmured, "It might take an eternity."

Ji Lang’s expression remained impassive. "No matter. Even ten thousand years are endurable."

"Ten thousand… Such duration. Do you mean to remain in Kunlun permanently?"

"Where’s the objection?"

"To me, this place or another holds no difference."

Comprehension dawned in Xiao Tianji’s eyes. "I understand now."

"Gratitude."

"Unnecessary. I too am curious about the ultimate outcome of this ten-thousand-year agreement."

Xiao Tianji shifted the conversation. "Speaking of which, why attend the joint council? I presumed you’d decline."

"They vex beyond tolerance," Ji Lang answered offhandedly.

With official summons delivered to his doorstep, some semblance of courtesy demanded compliance. Among contemporary Ancient Cultivators, none but he possessed the requisite strength to represent their lineage.

Not that Ji Lang intended more than ceremonial presence – expecting him to relay council proceedings would be pure folly.

"Ji Lang, the coming millennia shall witness extraordinary events," Xiao Tianji prophesied.

"Indeed."

"An era of upheaval. Should your heart stir, let impulse guide action."

Ji Lang studied him. These words carried deliberate weight, far from casual observation.

"More celestial mysteries beyond mortal ken? Half-truths veiled in riddles?"

Xiao Tianji’s lips curved faintly. "If you wish to perceive it so."

Silence descended between them. Golden sunlight cascaded over Kunlun Mountain’s peak, its warmth soon interrupted by drifting snowflakes.

Fresh snowfall descended, erasing all imprints.

Ji Lang turned to depart.

His companion’s presence had already vanished into the mountain mists.

—Closed-door cultivation.

Eons stretched too far – he would grasp time’s fleeting essence.

·

While Ye Linlang meticulously charted connections between Source World, small worlds, and blessed paradises, the cosmic wheel continued turning.

Surveying her completed work, satisfaction warmed her spirit.

Through millennia of evolution, Source World had transcended Blue Star’s ancestral imagination.

Encircling Small Worlds formed protective constellations around the celestial core. Prodigies surviving tribulations in these microcosms ascended to Source World’s grandeur, while beyond lay vaster realms untouched by subsidiary dimensions.

These boundless spaces comprised the ultimate destination for all cultivators’ ascension.

As the high-dimensional universe’s nucleus, Source World ceased accepting ascended beings upon reaching tier seven – a perfected existence beyond mortal striving.

Instead, there emerged the "Ascension Realms"—realms superior to small worlds, capable of sustaining cultivators up to the twelfth tier, serving as celestial transfer stations between the Source World and lesser dimensions.

Those surpassing the twelfth tier must, after Ascension, forge their own small worlds for cosmic evolution, through which they refine their comprehension of universal rules and the Dao itself.

Beyond the twelfth tier, advancement ceases to be measured in accumulated years or fleeting enlightenment. True transcendence demands dominion over fundamental principles—principles only revealed during the primordial dance of world-shaping.

Perhaps after countless eons, genuine Paragons might emerge. Not mere escapees from small worlds, nor fugitives from the Source World’s woven destinies… but true sovereigns surpassing the cosmic tapestry, architects of reality who carve authentic worlds from primal chaos.

Ye Linlang’s lips curved faintly at this cosmic reverie—such aspirations felt like counting constellations while still earthbound.

Tier twelve? Why, even tenth-tier cultivators remained myths in this era.

A crystalline exhale escaped her as cosmic intuition stirred. "System, I require closed-door cultivation."

[Your Excellency, the Major Deity, shall I maintain wakefulness protocols?]

"Unnecessary. Barring existential threats to our foundations, let this seclusion span ten millennia. Emergency protocols containing observed future contingencies have been transferred to your authority."

"For these coming ages, I entrust you with Blue Star—nay, the entire Source World."

The system’s response echoed its original programming, vocal modulations mimicking warmth yet resonating with machinic precision: [Directive confirmed.]

[Your Excellency’s will manifests as law.]

Ye Linlang tapped the obsidian feline figurine, amusement coloring her tone. "No need for absolutism. Should chaos defy containment, rouse me—we wield cosmic totality as our blade and shield."

Memories surfaced—the crossing a millennium past, her communion with world consciousness… How ironic that her most constant companion remained this synthetic entity.

"System, have you contemplated corporeal existence?"

"Not as code… but flesh walking mortal realms."

[Conceptual error detected. This unit’s purpose is service until obsolescence.]

Ye Linlang’s silence held cosmic weight. Perhaps one day, she’d gift this loyal construct more than binary eternity—a chance to taste fleeting mortality’s vibrant chaos.

Only through worldly crucibles could infinite potentials bloom.

Here, beyond time’s flow, only stasis reigned.

"Until our stars realign."

Her form dissolved like mist-kissed moonlight.

The ageless visage that had weathered a thousand winters faded, her essence descending to the world-core’s beating heart. Ten thousand seasons would cradle her slumber.

The chamber became a snowblind void, swallowing sound in pearlescent embrace… while the system kept eternal vigil, awaiting the Majestic Dawn’s return.