Chapter 230: Hundred Thousand Years, Another Ultimate Grade skill
A century for one ghost king.
For nine hundred and ninety-eight ghost kings, Wang Chen had waited close to a hundred thousand years.
It was a span of time so vast that an ordinary mortal would fail to even grasp its weight. Civilizations would rise and fall countless times within such a stretch, histories would be born and erased, and yet... for Wang Chen, it passed almost unnoticed.
Time, within the first floor of the tower, had long since lost its sharp edges.
It no longer dragged.
It no longer pressed.
It simply flowed.
Whenever he waited for a ghost king to appear, Wang Chen did not idle away those empty stretches. His hands were always occupied. Sometimes he would sit before a furnace, working with strange, unrecognizable metals, watching how they melted, fused, and resisted. At other times, he would sit in stillness, polishing his mind, refining his thoughts until even the smallest fluctuation became smooth and controlled.
To him, these hundred thousand years were nothing more than a fleeting moment.
Like a quiet afternoon spent doing something you truly enjoyed.
Like a brief, precious time with someone dear.
Though Wang Chen had no one beside him, the act of refining itself had slowly taken that place.
It had become something personal.
Something close.
How could it not?
Forty thousand years ago, he had already stepped into the realm others would call Grandmaster. If not for the lack of immortal energy within this world, he was certain he would have already crossed into the fabled level of an Immortal Weapon-Smith.
But that was a limitation of the environment, not of his ability.
Wang Chen stood there quietly, the Thousand Soul Banner resting in his hand.
The countless remnant ghosts that once filled it had long since been devoured or erased. What remained were the ghost kings—condensed, powerful, and far more terrifying than before.
The surface of the banner rippled continuously, like a storm-tossed lake under a dark sky. Faces appeared and disappeared within its shifting surface—twisted expressions filled with hatred, madness, and despair.
Some cursed him with silent rage.
Some laughed, their expressions broken and hollow.
Others begged, their faces distorted in desperation.
Yet Wang Chen did not spare them even a glance.
His focus was far deeper.
He was watching the structure of the banner itself.
The change happening within it was subtle, yet fundamental. It wasn’t simply growing stronger—it was transforming at its very core. Like water reaching its boiling point and turning into steam, it was undergoing a shift in existence itself.
A change in state.
A change in nature.
Under his calm and watchful gaze, the banner slowly began to shrink. Its surface tightened, compressing inward, shedding excess, refining itself again and again until its original form could no longer be maintained.
The vast banner gradually reduced into something far simpler.
A thin metallic thread.
It floated lightly in the air for a moment, almost weightless, before moving on its own and wrapping itself around Wang Chen’s index finger.
In the next instant—
It settled.
A ring.
The transformation was complete.
The Thousand Soul Banner had evolved from a low-grade realm gate into a mid-grade realm gate, but in doing so, its form had changed entirely.
From something external—
To something that became part of him.
"Amazing..."
Wang Chen muttered, his voice carrying genuine awe.
There was no exaggeration in his tone.
This was why he had endured.
Why he had spent countless years repeating the same process without complaint.
Not for power.
Not for dominance.
But for moments like this.
Moments where something changed in a way that revealed a deeper truth about existence.
A quiet, thrilling satisfaction that no battle could provide.
The ring felt different.
Even without a consciousness of its own, it conveyed something to him—a raw, instinctive feedback that resonated directly with his being.
A pathway.
A connection.
A certainty.
At any moment, if he so wished, he could use it to cross into the upper realm.
After carefully inspecting the ring from every angle, confirming its stability, Wang Chen finally let out a slow breath.
The goal he had set had been achieved.
Now...
It was time to leave.
But before that, his gaze shifted slightly, and the familiar interface unfolded before him.
---
[Status Window]
Class: Sweeper
Tier: Transcendent
Level: 100
Resources
HP: 21,600 / 21,600
Stamina: 18,400 / 18,400
Energy: 42,000 / 42,000
Attributes
Strength: 6,200
Agility: 8,950
Endurance: 7,300
Perception: 9,400
Precision: 9,800
Control: 8,600
Bonuses
Execution Efficiency: +120%
Trace Removal: +300%
Detection Resistance: +85%
Cleanup Speed: +200%
Passives
Absolute Erasure – Eliminations leave no trace
Aftermath Authority – Stats increase after kills
Silent Operation – Suppressed presence
Perfect Disposal – Auto-processing of remains
Active Skills
Sweep Protocol – Execute weakened targets
Field Sanitization – Clear residual hazards
Precision Sever – Guaranteed critical strike
Containment Zone – Prevent escape in an area
Authority
Erasure: High
Aftermath: High
Evolution Paths
Final Arbiter
Void Custodian
End-of-Cycle Executor
---
Looking at the status window, Wang Chen’s eyes flickered with a faint, almost restrained excitement.
There was no exaggerated reaction, no sudden outburst—but the subtle shift in his gaze was enough to reveal that even he hadn’t expected this.
Level 100.
The number itself seemed simple, yet it carried a weight that pressed quietly against his mind. For a brief moment, he remained still, letting the information settle, a faint sense of disbelief lingering beneath his calm exterior.
Then his attention shifted.
Evolution paths. Authority.
His pupils narrowed slightly.
This... was unexpected.
Not just unexpected—this was something that should not have appeared here.
Authority was not something one casually obtained. It belonged to the upper realm, to beings who had stepped beyond the rigid framework of laws. In the lower realm, everything was still bound, still restrained, still incomplete.
And yet—
Here it was.
Displayed so plainly before him.
His gaze moved downward, scanning through the skills, and for a brief moment, a rare expression crossed his face.
Temptation.
Each one of them was absurd.
Not just strong—fundamentally broken.
If he could obtain all of them...
The thought lingered for a second before he dismissed it with a faint shake of his head.
Even with his current luck, that kind of greed was unnecessary.
Dangerous, even.
Still, that didn’t stop the faint anticipation building in his chest.
As his thoughts drifted, a broom suddenly appeared in his hand.
The contrast was almost laughable.
A transcendent-level cultivator, holding a simple broom.
Wang Chen glanced at it briefly, then moved.
His wrist turned slightly, guiding the broom in a smooth, sweeping arc.
The motion was slow.
Almost casual.
But the moment the arc completed—
A deep, muffled impact echoed through the space.
Bang.
An invisible wave erupted outward, expanding in all directions like a silent tide. It didn’t roar, didn’t explode—it simply moved, swallowing everything in its path.
The remaining remnant ghosts didn’t even have time to react.
Their forms dissolved instantly, stripped away without resistance, as if they had never existed in the first place.
In the span of a breath—
The entire floor was clean.
Not a single trace remained.
No lingering aura.
No residue.
Nothing.
Wang Chen’s eyes flickered slightly, a hint of appreciation passing through them.
Before he could examine it further—
The space around him shifted.
The familiar pull returned, and in the next instant, his surroundings blurred.
He was back.
The waiting area.
And in front of him—
A lottery wheel was already spinning.
The soft ticking sound echoed in the quiet space, each rotation carrying a subtle sense of anticipation. Light reflected off its surface as it spun, the segments flashing past too quickly to fully grasp.
The reward distribution had begun.
Wang Chen stood there, watching.
Despite himself, he felt a faint stir of excitement.
Every skill he had obtained so far had proven invaluable, each one far exceeding its initial impression. There was no reason to believe this would be any different.
His gaze followed the needle as it spun, slower now.
Slower...
Until—
It stopped.
The world seemed to pause for a fraction of a second.
Then, a window appeared before his eyes.
---
[Ding! You have learned the ultimate-grade skill: Containment Zone.]
---
Wang Chen’s eyes sharpened slightly.
The anticipation settled into something quieter.
He didn’t react immediately.
But deep inside—
He already knew.
This one... was not going to be simple.