Chapter 54

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Chapter 54: Title

Ye Linlang limbered up, her aura radiating unrestrained.

【Identity Template·Ji Lang, Activation Progress 5%, 10%…55%…99%, 100%. Ascension Mode Engaged: Tier One, Tier Two, Tier Three, Tier Four, Tier Five…Tier Seven…】

【Sword·Silver Light Synthesizing…Cultivation Technique·Quesha Synchronizing…】

The system’s monotone voice buzzed in her ears, yet Ye Linlang paid it no heed. As her blade cleared its sheath, previously oblivious monsters abruptly swiveled toward her, charging with frenzied claws and gnashing teeth.

This was her small world, where external laws held no sway. Tier Seven power flooded the space unchecked—a realm dubbed the Immortal Threshold, attainable only by those who carved their own dao through unyielding conviction.

Though her current strength paled before her divine incarnation as Yahweh, who could erase constellations with a flick, the seventh-tier prowess still allowed her to reshape mountains and drain oceans effortlessly.

The nightmare tide pressed relentlessly. Obsidian-and-crimson horrors ceased their cannibalistic dance upon sensing her, fixating entirely on this interloper. Any witness would’ve frozen in dread at the seething mass—until silver arcs began carving through the darkness like celestial brushstrokes, each sweep reducing swathes of abominations to swirling ashes.

Yet as Ye Linlang carved deeper, a nagging suspicion lingered: were these truly mere weaklings, or did greater predators lurk beyond perception?

*

Meanwhile, in the valley’s illusion formation, disoriented cultivators stumbled through shifting mirages for hours. When finally freed, several collapsed mentally, their resolve reduced to splinters.

"The formation’s broken," declared Feiran, dusting his sleeves as Xu Li materialized behind him.

"Headcount’s off," Leng Xingwen noted tersely, spiritual senses sweeping the area.

"Overlaid spatial formations," Feiran tapped the air where glowing patterns faded. "Limited quantity, random teleportation triggers."

Zou Cheng approached, pallid as a winter moon. "Young Master Leng…we should withdraw." He gestured at two trembling juniors clutching their heads.

A curt nod. "Regroup."

Illusions held little power over iron-willed cultivators, but mercy dictated evacuating the broken.

Beyond the camp’s perimeter, Zou Cheng’s eyebrows shot up. "Why are you stationed here?"

"Don’t know," shrugged a stranded guard. "Just…popped outside suddenly."

Feiran materialized beside Leng Xingwen, studying faint energy residues. "Benign spatial displacement. I’ll accompany your next ingress—formations won’t trouble us."

Leng Xingwen’s eyes narrowed at the scholar’s sudden enthusiasm. Feiran cared nothing for valley treasures; his gaze burned with the fervor of an alchemist glimpsing lost secrets. Spatial patterns from antiquity, patterns he’d only ever reconstructed from fragmentary scrolls—now laid bare for reverse-engineering.

Their second approach became an academic stroll. Feiran’s muttered calculations neutralized hidden teleportation traps, though one disciple still vanished mid-step.

Gu Cheng’s hollow stomach growled like a caged beast. Crouched beneath sandstone cliffs, he pressed shaking hands against his abdomen. Sleep? Impossible. The hunger had become liquid fire.

Then—footsteps. Crisp, deliberate, echoing through stone corridors.

Gu Cheng snapped his head up sharply. Outside? Impossible—he’d scoured every inch for an exit since the first day of his entrapment. The passage through which they’d entered had inexplicably vanished, its former location now seamless stone.

Crouching deeper into shadows, he held his position until identifying the newcomers.

"Gu Cheng? Are you there?" The sudden call pierced the silence.

Yun Yu? Here? Adrenaline surged through Gu Cheng’s veins as he pressed against cold stone. Squinting through narrowed eyes, he discerned swaying flashlight beams and silhouettes moving beyond his refuge.

"Here," he rasped, voice frayed from disuse.

Leng Xingwen’s acute hearing compensated for his muted spiritual senses within this otherworldly gorge. The faint response still reached him. Sword gleaming in pale moonlight, he gestured northwest. "Voices carry from there. Investigate?"

When Yun Yu’s group rounded the outcrop, their flashlights revealed the bedraggled survivor leaning against stone. A collective breath escaped the rescuers.

"Alive," Yun Yu exhaled.

"Two days later and you’d need pallbearers, Ah Yu." Despite the jest, Gu Cheng’s stomach growled audibly as his friend steadied him.

"Provisions secured." Yun Yu’s smile held visible relief.

The gathering crowd parted for Zou Cheng’s approach, though Feiran and Xu Li remained engrossed with spatial teleportation formations nearby. "Mr. Gu." The greeting carried unspoken concern at the climber’s haggard appearance.

The party settled in a loose circle, nocturnal mists coiling about their boots. Dawn would bring exploration; tonight required vigilance. Revived by water and dried rations, Gu Cheng finally straightened.

"This gorge resonates with… wrongness." Leng Xingwen sat cross-legged, night-piercing gaze fixed on the distant bronze door—a colossal sentinel spanning cliff faces. "The forbidden object mentioned by the White Sword Cultivator?"

"Her warning proved sound. Any encounters?" Gu Cheng’s fingers twitched, phantom blades flashing in memory.

"None harmed," Zou Cheng confirmed. "But we’d value your account of these past days for archives."

Gu Cheng’s narrative unfolded—haunting visions, the enigmatic portal, the swordswoman whose blade had fractured into a hundred shivering points of light.

"Ziqing’s intervention saved us," Leng Xingwen observed, balancing his blade across knees. "Manifesting a hundred-sword formation transcends ordinary cultivation. Her prowess exceeds prior estimations."

Young Master Leng’s sword hummed faintly as he added, "In direct contest? I’d likely fall."

Zou Cheng’s jaw tightened at this admission—their strongest safeguard acknowledging vulnerability.

"How advanced could she be?"

"Unquantifiable." The swordsman’s cloak rippled in an unfelt breeze. "Sword cultivators defy conventional measures. Not invincible among peers, but surpassing most. Their arts are forged in endless combat—some even temper sword intent through mortal peril."

"Let’s pray we avoid that fanatical breed," Leng Xingwen concluded. "Numbers invite challenge, not caution."

"Dire words," Gu Cheng mused, gnawing on travel biscuits. "Though I’ll admit their… single-mindedness rings true."

That night, Leng Xingwen stood watch.

Heeding Gu Cheng’s warning, he closely monitored the sleeping group, prepared to rouse anyone approaching the Bronze Door.

Throughout the dark hours, Leng Xingwen rendered nine people unconscious—even Zou Cheng exhibited peculiar "sleepwalking" episodes while others remained unaffected.

Dawn broke.

"This Bronze Door might be cursed," Leng Xingwen advised Zou Cheng, rubbing his temple. "Those I struck last night rose in the dead of night, drawn toward it like moths to flame. Had I not intervened…"

Feiran yawned behind them, midnight oil still clinging to his lashes. The abundant Spiritual Energy here had accelerated his recovery, though hours of studying spatial formations left him weary.

"Why establish such a formation here?" he murmured, tracing invisible lines in the air. Unlike the distance-spanning arrays from ancient texts, this configuration suggested spatial transference—something far more complex.

The group remained divided.

"Spatial overlap… No, convergence," Feiran muttered, jade brush dancing across parchment as he documented fluctuating patterns. "Similar principles, yet distinct…"

Zou Cheng stared at his signal-less phone, jaw tight. "I must consult headquarters."

Leng Xingwen sighed. "These thousand-year-old relics…" He shook his head, the ancient legend’s shadow darkening his eyes.

Feiran’s gaze sharpened. "Leaving? Perfect." He stepped forward, sleeves whispering with restrained energy. "I require test parameters."

When Zou Cheng recoiled, the researcher pressed, "This concerns the door’s secrets. Are you certain you’ll decline?"

The agent’s eyes darted to the enigmatic Bronze Door. After three heartbeats, he ground out, "What’s required?"

"Merely stand here." Feiran’s brush flicked toward a weathered stone. As Zou Cheng complied, crystalline patterns bloomed beneath the jade brush’s tip—and the agent vanished.

"Similar to your account?" Feiran turned to Gu Cheng, observing the empty space.

"She merely waved her sleeve."

"Direct control versus forced activation." Feiran paled, realization dawning. "If the formation recognizes its master…"

Leng Xingwen’s sword calloused hand gripped his hilt. "Sword cultivators disdain subtlety. Had she come—"

"—we’d be dead?" Feiran arched an eyebrow.

"Or drinking tea together," the guard countered. "Your theory falters."

Beyond their debate, Zou Cheng materialized in a government office three provinces away. By dusk, orders came: Mission suspended. The valley’s secrets would keep—for now.

They needed thorough preparation before delving into the study of this evidently intricate door.

"This space maintains seamless continuity with the exterior, necessitating the use of a teleportation array that crosses spatial boundaries. The interior exists as an independent realm."

"You’re suggesting this resembles a secret realm’s small world?" Leng Xingwen inquired.

"Precisely."

"Moreover, it’s likely artificial. Naturally occurring secret realms never manifest like this—the anomalous twin peaks and enclosed valley confirm it."

"If crafted deliberately, the ancient cultivator who forged this space must have overlaid dimensional fabric upon the original valley, isolating it within its own spatial stratum."

"Modern satellite imaging would never detect such a colossal Bronze Door here," Feiran remarked, pausing thoughtfully. "Zou Cheng ordered temporary suspension of the mission. Depart if you wish, but I’m staying to continue research."

"Remain here? With that uncanny portal? You court disaster."

"My focus remains solely on the valley’s teleportation formation," Feiran countered.

Leng Xingwen didn’t buy a word of it—who could stop this scholar from eventually meddling with the mysterious gate?

"Very well. Having no pressing matters, I’ll remain too."

*

As Leng Xingwen’s group reached Kunlun, Tang Tong spearheaded an expedition to the East China Sea. The Special Bureau deemed it improper to dispatch mere subordinates for dragon race diplomacy.

As Chief of Comprehensive Section 5, Tang Tong ranked among the Bureau’s highest echelons, subordinate only to two senior administrators.

Hitching passage on the East China Sea Fleet’s training vessel, her team navigated toward the dragon race’s vanishing coordinates.

The vast ocean spanned roughly two-thirds of Blue Star’s surface, their destination lying far beyond coastal waters in the desolate open sea.

Tang Tong leaned against the deck rail, azure seawater swirling beneath while the soothing sea breeze almost made her feel as if she were on a holiday.

An illusion, naturally.

Records showed marine transformations since the Awakening of Spiritual Energy. The celestial event’s imperial nectar shower had further catalyzed oceanic metamorphosis.

Though humanity dominated terrestrial realms, the abyssal depths remained largely uncharted.

Her phone displayed alarming reports: "Submarine encounters colossal marine creature measuring nearly a kilometer in length…"

"Chief, we’ve arrived." Zhu Xin approached, her new role in regional incident management replacing previous duties of tracking extraordinary individuals.

"Serene waters. Deploying submarines seems excessive." Tang Tong observed the calm surface, recalling how the dragon race’s arrival had stirred daylong tempests—lightning fracturing skies, gales whipping waves.

Zhongxia’s marine alert during that event had recalled coastal vessels while warning oceanic traffic to avoid the epicenter—a maelstrom where tornadoes danced with thunderbolts capable of cleaving ships.

Entering the Control Room, Tang Tong addressed the naval captain.

"Acquire high-amplitude sonar transmitters. If descent proves impossible, we’ll summon them upward."

The strategy held merit, but what invocation might compel ancient sea sovereigns? How long must they hail the depths?

"The dragon race possesses legendary intellect. They’ll comprehend our tongue."

"Zhu Xin." Tang Tong’s voice carried across the humming consoles.

"Present."

"You, come here. If I recall correctly, you were previously in the field operations team? Approach the dragon race the same way you would extraordinary individuals."

Zhu Xin’s expression turned to one of astonishment. Was the Chief actually summoning her? This couldn’t be a joke.

"Do I appear to be joking?" Tang Tong gazed at Zhu Xin, who had unwittingly voiced her inner thoughts. With a smile, she patted her shoulder and added,

"Give it your all. If today doesn’t work, we’ll resume tomorrow."

Though the fleet had routine patrol duties, renting a cruise ship remained an option regardless.

Three days later.

A compact white cruise ship floated under mild sunlight—ideal weather for leisure. Tang Tong lounged against the railings, juice in hand.

Inside the Control Room, Zhu Xin tweaked the broadcast script for the umpteenth time. Three days of relentless announcements had yielded no response from the underwater realm. The vessel had lingered at these coordinates for two full days.

*Are the dragon race truly this obstinate?* She mused, recalling how even the most stubborn subjects during her prior assignments relented within a day. Distracted, her finger slipped across the music player’s interface.

*"Like a piece of seaweed, seaweed, swaying in the wind…"*

Tang Tong choked on her juice at the bow, the glass tumbling from her grip into the waves. "What *is* this melody?"

"Apologies, Chief! My hand slipped," Zhu Xin blurted out, rushing to the deck.

Massaging her temples, Tang Tong waved dismissively. The endless announcements had already frayed her nerves. "Let it play. Who knows if the dragons are even listening?"

"Perhaps music will lighten the mood."

Zhu Xin nodded hesitantly before darting back to amplify the track.

*"Like a piece of seaweed, seaweed…"*

Orange in hand, Tang Tong studied the placid sea. The absurdly catchy tune looped in her skull. "Chief," Zhu Xin ventured later, emerging as *"You’re my little apple, little apple, brightest cloud in the sky…"* blared forth, "must we stay indefinitely until they surface?"

"Correct." Tang Tong peeled her citrus fruit. With no new assignments from headquarters, she’d resorted to managing affairs digitally from this floating purgatory.

"Never heard these songs before."

"They’re vintage tracks—over two decades old. My father’s playlist." Zhu Xin reddened as the next synth-heavy chorus erupted. Tang Tong now battled twin concerns: her subordinate’s questionable musical tastes, and the invasive earworm hijacking her thoughts.

Beneath the hull’s shadow, a pale Carp flicked its opalescent tail toward the commotion. Surface-dwellers had clamored here for days—dolphins claimed humans sought audience.

Breaching the surface, the Carp beheld the metallic leviathan. *So this is their vessel?* It circled curiously, tail tracing languid arcs through the brine.

Tang Tong’s eyes narrowed as the luminous fish passed. Too elegant for an ordinary Carp, its scales shimmered with otherworldly luster. When the creature vanished into azure depths, she turned to observe Zhu Xin’s reaction—the junior officer remained oblivious, humming along to the mind-numbing refrain.

"Zhu Xin, how much do you know about the dragon race?"

"I’m somewhat familiar with various myths and legends." After learning about the incident in her assigned area and being summoned to assist, Zhu Xin had urgently immersed herself in dragon-related folklore.

"Have you heard of the White Dragon Disguised as a Fish?" Tang Tong inquired, not waiting for a response before continuing.

"Long ago, a white dragon descended into the clear depths and transformed into a Carp. Many legends speak of dragons taking Carp forms to conceal their identities. The three dragons we seek all achieved their transformation into dragons through the Carp’s Leap over the Dragon Gate…"

"One of them is said to be white, isn’t it?" The remark seemed directed as much at herself as at Zhu Xin.

Zhu Xin’s confusion lingered until a glimmering movement caught her eye – a white Carp swimming nearer, its pearlescent scales outshining even the prized golden arowana in her personal aquarium.

With sudden whimsy, Tang Tong lobbed an orange segment into the water. The citrus landed precisely before the curious Carp, which dove to investigate. The fish’s eyes brightened as it nibbled the unexpected offering.

Delicious.

Resurfacing, the Carp lingered expectantly, its gaze fixed upward. Having heard dolphins speak of humans favoring beautiful fish, the vain creature flicked its tail rhythmically, anticipating more treats.

Tang Tong obliged by scattering several orange pieces. A smile played on her lips as she observed the agile fish leap for its snacks. While uncertain whether this gullible-looking creature was indeed their target, its evident intelligence surpassed ordinary Carp behavior.

"Zhu Xin, fetch provisions – we purchased ample fruits." As her companion departed, Tang Tong added teasingly, "Bring your personal snacks too. I’ll replenish them ashore."

The enthusiastic Carp devoured every morsel without showing physical change, swallowing Tang Tong’s final cookie crumb with gusto. "Return tomorrow if you desire more," the investigator declared, departing despite the fish’s dramatic belly-up protest.

Blowing contemplative bubbles, the Carp admired the crimson sunset while savoring memories of human food – vastly tastier than the Spiritual Energy-infused offerings from its brothers. The pleasant reverie shattered as it recalled its unauthorized excursion.

Panicked, the creature dove precipitously. At hundred-meter depth, its form elongated dramatically. Dragon whiskers streamed through seawater as silver scales ignited with otherworldly luminescence, revealing the magnificent white dragon recently photographed over the Yellow River.

Though online images showed blurred silhouettes of three dragons – the golden and white vividly apparent, the black obscured by stormclouds – this radiant being matched eyewitness accounts perfectly.

Plunging to abyssal depths, the dragon reached ten-thousand-meter territory within moments. Here, in the lightless deep sea, the Crystal Dragon Palace blazed like submerged starlight – its jewel-encrusted splendor justifying every myth. Marine life avoided this glowing dominion where three draconic rulers dwelled.

The palace’s spatial magic repelled seawater, creating an air-filled realm vast enough to dwarf even the dragon’s serpentine form. Crossing the threshold, the great beast shimmered into a little child’s shape – a three-year-old with pearly robes, silver crown, and delicate dragon horns adorning its forehead.

This crystalline sanctuary, separating land-like interiors from oceanic pressures outside, stood as eternal testament to the dragon race’s architectural mastery.

The plump little bundle hoisted himself up from the ground and drifted lazily toward the Dragon Palace. Before reaching his chambers, he was intercepted at the grand entrance.

"Little San, where have you wandered off to?"

A striking young man of nineteen hands’ height stood framed against the palace lights, his golden sleeves billowing like molten sunlight. A golden hair crown secured his night-dark tresses flowing down his back. He might have passed for human, were it not for the twin dragon horns curving from his forehead.

"Didn’t I decree daily practice sessions with your Second Brother?" The golden-robed figure plucked the white fluffball from the ground, administering a light swat to the errant youth’s posterior.

"I… I lingered too long in the gardens."

"Forgive me, Eldest Brother! It shan’t happen again!" The white puff nuzzled against the elder’s cheek, wisely omitting his true adventures beyond the palace.

"Your absence enraged Second Brother." The golden dragon cradled his charge toward a vast training ground where silver spear flashes pierced the air.

"Little Er."

The black-clad spearman froze mid-thrust. His horns, smaller than the elder’s yet more pronounced than the puffball’s, glinted as he approached. After bowing to his elder, obsidian eyes narrowed at the squirming bundle.

"Little San. Our appointed training hour passed with your absence."

"Second Brother!" The puff extended stubby arms pleadingly. "Time slipped away during my play!"

These three embodied the dragons who’d manifested over the Yellow River. Ao Yuan, the golden progenitor, had emerged fully formed from his transformation – an anomaly among their kind. While his carp memories blurred like river silt, he retained certainty about his status as heaven’s first true dragon.

Though compelled toward the East Sea after transcending, he’d lingered at the vanishing Dragon Gate. Ninety-nine heavenly strikes had claimed many aspirants, yet two survivors emerged: an injured black-scaled youth and a white dragonling barely out of infancy.

Ao Ming’s humanoid form mirrored fourteen winters, his bearing already solemn. Ao Lan’s manifestation as a three-year-old child baffled logic – until the white dragon confessed his pre-transformation encounter with an ancient monolith in the Yellow River’s depths, granting early mastery of Spiritual Energy.

Heaven itself bestowed their names. When the Gate dissolved, Ao Yuan’s sweeping tail had borne both youngsters eastward to subaqueous halls his instincts recognized. In that Spiritual Energy-rich sanctuary, bonds formed swiftly between the world’s sole dragons.

Ao Yuan cherished his charges with inexplicable familiarity, as if rehearsed in elder-brotherhood. Ao Ming’s disciplined nature balanced Ao Lan’s mischievous spark – though even the stern black dragon struggled against the youngest’s antics.

"Second Brother!" The white puff now wheedled, clinging to Ao Ming’s sleeve. "Might we visit Big Bai?"

The reference to their shark companion earned no mercy. "Neglected practice demands reparation tonight." Though affection warmed his tone, resolve steeled the spearman’s posture. Beneath indulgent skies, even dragon brothers kept their covenants.

"But big brother is going to teach writing tonight." The three-year-old bundle hugged Ao Ming’s leg, turning hopeful eyes toward Ao Yuan. "Right, eldest brother?"

"Enough. I’ve prepared supper first." Ao Yuan’s voice carried calm authority. "We’ll study characters and practice cultivation afterward."

The white-haired child slumped slightly, his jade-like horns dimming. "Yes, brother."

Ao Yuan exchanged a glance with Ao Lan, both noting the anomaly. Normally their youngest sibling would already be scrambling toward the dining hall.

Celestial flora glowed throughout the Dragon Palace corridors, millennia-old spiritual herbs perfuming the air with medicinal sweetness. Through arched windows, ponds shimmered with silver-scaled spiritual fish – Ao Yuan’s recent addition to their ancestral home.

The trio’s draconic heritage pulsed within them, though Ao Yuan’s held deeper memories – fragmented visions of pearl-encrusted halls and mercurial tides. These past days he’d combed the seabed, gathering useful treasures and confronting shadowy creatures that defied classification.

Three bowls steamed upon the spiritual crystal table. Ao Lan peered into his fish broth, the concoction swirling with Spiritual Energy yet devoid of seasoning. He blew carefully on his silver spoon.

Not nearly as flavorful as those human snacks we tasted that time…

Yet he drained his bowl dutifully. Eldest brother’s cooking, however plain, carried its own comfort.

"I’ll survey the outer seas tomorrow." Ao Yuan’s announcement froze the other two mid-sip.

"Beyond the Jiuzhou barrier?" Ao Ming’s chopsticks clinked against his bowl. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing’s wrong." The eldest dragon gazed westward where phosphorescent currents marked the boundary. "Merely… necessary."

Ao Lan’s lower lip trembled. "Can’t we come? Three dragons together could face anything!"

"Remember the leviathan I encountered?" Ao Yuan’s claws absently traced the table’s crystalline veins. "Its eyes held knowledge of realms beyond our waters. This compulsion to explore… it’s like when the tides called us eastward."

"Little Er will mind Little San." The decree left no room for debate.

Dawn found two younger dragons watching their brother’s silhouette fade into the abyssal gloom. Black-robed Ao Ming turned to his pouting sibling.

"Cultivation time, Little San."

"Second Brother…" Azure dragon scales shimmered through Ao Lan’s human guise as he clasped Ao Ming’s sleeve. "What if… what if I showed you something important? Up there?"

His finger pointed upward through liquid sapphire light.

"You know we’re forbidden…"

"Eldest brother said I mustn’t wander alone." Innocent eyes widened. "He never said anything about guided excursions."

When the smaller dragon nuzzled his cheek, Ao Ming’s resolve crumbled like sandcastles beneath tidal waves.

"One hour. Not a breath longer."

The resulting embrace nearly toppled them both. "Second Brother’s the best! Let’s go before the moon tides shift!"

Their laughter bubbled upward through the weight of ancient waters.