Heavenly Wheel Ascension

Ruo Xianxue flicked her nine tails, creating a vortex of purple energy that erased the projection. "Ten pillars? That is still one level below me during my era of glory. As the singular Sacred Devil Saint, all Devils and Demons originate from me."

"Ten pillars... and you were still above them," Zhi Xuan murmured, his voice containing an indescribable sense of respect coupled with sharp vigilance. "One such as you, who managed to survive the Era of the Fall of the Nine Heavens—such unimaginable majesty."

Ruo Xianxue did not respond. She plucked a leaf from the Tree of Life, which was beginning to sprout anew after the tremors of the Underworld River. She stared at the leaf, letting it wither into black dust with a single exhale.

Zhi Xuan withdrew from his sea of consciousness, opened his eyes, and gazed at the two massive cocoons before him. "At least I will remain here for a while until they crack. But will a Heavenly Tribulation descend as it always does when they advance?"

The question hung in the silent air of the plateau, accompanied by the whistling of a parched wind carrying the lingering scent of sulfur. Zhi Xuan watched the purple sky as it began to fade, leaving the eternal darkness of the Secret Realm laden with pressure.

Typically, whenever a creature of pure bloodline like a Dragon or an Ancient Insect crosses a mortal threshold, the Heavens send their wrath as a way to balance natural law. However, in this place isolated by the mists of grief, the laws of Heaven seemed to strike an invisible wall.

"The Heavenly Tribulation does not dare touch a place dominated by the aura of the Jiu-Quan," Ruo Xianxue’s voice echoed in his mind again, this time with a deeper tone. "This Secret Realm has its own laws. Here, Death is the sovereign, and heavenly lightning is but lost light. They will rise in silence, but when they emerge later... Heaven will demand its debt with compounded interest."

Zhi Xuan nodded slowly, his fingers forming additional protective mudras around the two cocoons. "If Heaven wishes to collect, then let it collect. The Heavenly Tribulation will only cause them to be reborn into versions of themselves that are no longer soft."

Time seemed to freeze on that desolate plateau. Days passed without dawn or dusk, marked only by the collective heartbeat of the two giant cocoons. Zhi Xuan remained cross-legged, his body like a marble statue covered in grey dust. Seven rotations of the artificial sun had passed when the first tremor occurred.

KRETAK—!

The sound of the crack was small, but to Zhi Xuan’s ears, it echoed like the collapse of a celestial pillar. Xiao Die’s cocoon began to split, releasing black vapor so cold it froze the ground in a ten-zhang radius. From the crevice, a pair of blood-red eyes peered out—no longer the innocent eyes of an insect, but a pair of deathly jewels harboring thousands of years of sorrow.

Shortly after, Ao Sheng’s cocoon exploded with a far more violent boom. Dark light soared high, forming a pillar of energy that pierced the grey clouds above. The raspy, authoritative roar of a dragon shook the plateau, triggering rockslides on the surrounding cliffs.

Zhi Xuan opened his eyes and rose with a fluid motion. Before him, two new figures stood. Xiao Die no longer took the form of a cheerful little girl. She now appeared as a stunning young woman, possessing a mystical and dangerous aura wrapped in an intoxicating lotus fragrance.

Her hair was as black as night, reaching down to her waist, and on her back, the Thousand Feathered Moth wings had fully mutated—wide, pitch black, with red eye-patterns that seemed to blink every time she moved. Every flap of her wings released black dust, which immediately melted and returned to her body.

Beside her, Ao Sheng stood gallantly. His body was now more upright and sturdy, nearly matching Zhi Xuan’s height. His pair of dragon horns curved sharply like swords intended to tear the sky, radiating destructive lightning that crackled incessantly before settling and receding into him.

"Senior," they spoke in unison. Their voices now possessed a deep resonance, a sign that their souls had reached the Crimson Lotus stage.

Zhi Xuan looked at them with an unreadable expression—there was a glimmer of satisfaction behind the coldness of his eyes. "You have washed yourselves in death to find life."

He wove threads in the air, forming two robes that represented each of them: one of ancient gold draped in dark silk, and the other a lotus-red with a transparent sash fluttering at the waist. Zhi Xuan sent the robes floating toward the two beings before him, who were still shrouded in the mist of their transformation.

The robes drifted like flower petals caught in the wind of fate, cloaking their bodies which had just been forged through suffering. As soon as the fabric touched their skin, the wild aura of their transformation instantly dimmed, hidden behind the layers of spiritual silk woven by Zhi Xuan’s will.

Ao Sheng donned the ancient gold robe with a newfound dignity; every movement he made carried a great weight, as if every step were a decree from a dragon sovereign. Meanwhile, Xiao Die, now clad in lotus-red, radiated a lethal elegance; her transparent sash fluttered even though there was no wind.

"This power..." Ao Sheng stared at his own palms, where dark-gold lightning still crackled faintly between his fingers. "I feel as though I could crush this mountain with a single fist."

"Do not let your new strength blind your heart," Zhi Xuan interrupted with a flat voice carrying unquestionable authority. "You have only just touched the threshold of true glory. The Crimson Lotus stage is but the beginning of washing away past humiliations."

Xiao Die stepped forward, her movement so light she seemed to glide above the air. She bowed deeply. "Thank you, Senior... for pulling us from the sweet dream that paralyzed us. If not for Senior’s cruelty at the edge of the Jiu-Quan, we might have remained insects and reptiles who only knew how to hide."

Zhi Xuan turned his body, looking toward the distance where the Core Tower still stood tall on the horizon, emitting a pillar of light that was beginning to dim—a sign that the process there was also nearing its peak.

"Our time in this place is almost up," Zhi Xuan said, waving his sleeve. "The Chaos Ocean Secret Realm will soon expel anyone who has no right to stay. And when that gate opens, the outside world will not welcome you with golden stairs."

He glanced back at the Gods Slaughter Crescent still tucked within his inner shadow, then turned to his two companions. "Those ancient clans will soon emerge with new Divine Transformation bodies. They will be arrogant; they will be like mortal kings and emperors, and they will seek out anyone who surpasses their achievements."

The two figures faded, becoming a small moth and a tiny golden dragon that tucked themselves behind the collar of Zhi Xuan’s robe. Zhi Xuan swept his surroundings, withdrawing the formation and tying back his long hair. With a subtle lunge, he transformed into a lengthening shadow, moving toward the Core Palace in the distance.

Zhi Xuan’s shadow split the barren plain like creeping lightning. Every inch of land he crossed released remnants of the Jiu-Quan aura, replaced by an increasingly pure and dense spiritual essence as he neared the radius of the Core Tower. On the horizon, the Core Tower no longer emitted a warm golden glow, but a sharp silvery-white aura—a sign that the Heavenly Laws within had finished weaving new bodies for the geniuses of the Ancient Clans.

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Zhi Xuan landed on one of the floating platforms, exactly in his original position before he had left for the Underworld Mountain. Silence enveloped the place, but it was the silence before a storm. The atmosphere around the tower felt so heavy it was as if space itself was holding its breath, awaiting the birth of the new sovereigns of the Lower Realm.

DUMMM—!

The majestic gates of the Core Tower burst open. No longer opening slowly, they were pulverized into dust of light by the pressure from within. From inside, the roar of the heavenly tribulations experienced by the Holy Sons and Daughters of the Ancient Clans carried a weight of destruction that vibrated through the air. A divine fragrance, a difference as vast as the height of the heavens, shot out as the Holy Sons and Daughters of the Ancient Clans emerged.

Zhi Xuan stood tall on the platform, looking up to face those who had undergone the Divine Transformation. Their auras were heavier, sharper, and full of dominance over the Domains they controlled. Zhi Xuan smiled coldly; he gave a faint bow and clasped his hands in acknowledgment.

"Congratulations to the Holy Sons and Daughters for stepping into the Divine Transformation stage," Zhi Xuan said, his tone calm and frigid. "Being of the same era as these Holy Sons and Daughters, this Zhi is honored to witness the rebirth of the Lower Realm's rulers."

Zhi Xuan’s flat yet sharp voice cut through the remaining rumbles of the heavenly tribulations still vibrating in the atmosphere. He stood in a white robe slightly dulled by the dust of the Underworld, creating a striking contrast with the geniuses of the ancient clans who were now enveloped in blinding divine light.

"Zhi Xuan," the voice came from Zhu Qinglan, who stood beside Zhu Yanghai. For a moment, as she intended to approach him, she was restrained by her brother; Zhu Yanghai shook his head.

All the Holy Sons and Daughters knew that after leaving this tower, the tension between Han Shanshan and Zhi Xuan would peak now that Han Shanshan had obtained what he sought: Divine Transformation. In this path, a Weaver Transformation practitioner would have no chance at all due to the fundamental difference in the nature of their Domains.

Zhu Qinglan looked at Zhi Xuan with a highly complex gaze; behind her eyes, which now radiated the eternal ice of the Divine Transformation realm, lay a worry she hid very closely. However, her brother’s warning was the bitter truth of the cultivation jungle. Their statuses were now separated by an essential abyss that could not be bridged by talent alone.

Han Shanshan appeared. His body now radiated a coldness capable of freezing the spiritual essence of his surroundings. His sharp eyes looked at Zhi Xuan, no longer with a sense of grudge, but with the disdain of a god toward an ant.

Behind him, figures like Qin Meiling and Feng Yaoyue descended with an elegance that surpassed mortal limits; their skin glowed like celestial marble, and every breath they took carried the scent of the Laws that had merged with their souls.

"Brother Zhi," replied Wang Mingshen, who landed with an aura far calmer yet possessing a depth like a bottomless ocean. "You are still here, waiting outside the door as if time never moved for you. What a pity, you missed the light inside the tower."

"Divine Transformation is not the end, Brother Wang," Zhi Xuan replied, straightening his back and letting the crater wind hit his face, which was as still as a dead lake. "This Zhi will also step onto the path the Holy Sons and Daughters now tread."

Han Shanshan laughed, like the rumble of an avalanche from the highest peak. He stepped through the air, and every footfall created cracking ice crystals, radiating the oppressive pressure of the Divine Transformation realm.

"Step onto it? With what, Gu Fengyan?" Han Shanshan asked, his voice booming, resonating with the domain laws he now held. "You are still trapped in the cocoon of Weaver Transformation. To me, you are now nothing more than dust blocking my view. The difference between us is no longer just talent, but the essence of existence. I am the sky, and you remain the earth."

Zhi Xuan merely stared at him with an unwavering gaze. Beneath his collar, he felt Ao Sheng and Xiao Die moving restlessly, their newly awakened predatory instincts wanting to tear apart the arrogance of the man before them. However, Zhi Xuan suppressed them with his will, signaling that the time for swords to speak had not yet fully arrived.

Feng Yaoyue, the phoenix girl who now appeared with a purer golden flame enveloping her body, looked at Zhi Xuan with a strange glint. "Senior Zhi, it is truly a pity. Had you entered with us, perhaps today you would be standing equal beside me, looking down at the world from the same throne."

"Holy Princess Feng overestimates me," Zhi Xuan replied flatly. "A throne gained from ancestral heritage inside a tower is indeed grand, but this Zhi prefers to carve his own path, even if it must pass through the darkest trenches."

Suddenly, the horizon of the Chaos Ocean Secret Realm shook violently. The grey clouds above began to swirl into a massive vortex, and silvery light began to descend, enveloping the entire floating plain. This was the sign that the secret realm's time limit had expired; the exit to the Nine Plains was about to be forcibly opened.

"The time has come," Chen Ling'er murmured, her pale purple eyes now radiating a much more complex wheel pattern. She looked at Zhi Xuan for a moment, as if trying to divine the fate of the white-robed practitioner in the outside world. "Brother Zhi, be careful. Out there, you are no longer a grand guest in everyone’s eyes."

Zhu Yanghai stepped forward, leading the Zhu Clan group. He gave one last sharp look to Zhi Xuan before he and Zhu Qinglan were sucked into the vortex of light. "Zhi Xuan, you owe the Zhu Clan an explanation if you manage to survive today."

One by one, the Holy Sons and Daughters vanished into the teleportation light. Han Shanshan was the last. Before his body was fully absorbed, he stared at Zhi Xuan with a bloodthirsty smile.

"Outside, before the gates of the Secret Realm, in front of the Great Elders of the Nine Clans... I will erase your existence, Gu Fengyan. Enjoy your remaining breaths as a failed genius."

Zhi Xuan stood alone on the platform, which was now starting to crack and crumble. Silvery light began to envelop him as well. He felt no fear, nor did he feel pressured by Han Shanshan’s threat.

"Failed?" Zhi Xuan whispered softly. "You searched for light inside the tower, while I have brought hell to the surface."

Zhi Xuan moved his finger, releasing the conscious bond connected to his main soul. "Your Excellency, come forth."

Instantly, the space around Zhi Xuan froze. The roaring crater wind that had been deafening suddenly vanished, replaced by a haunting silence, as if time itself were kneeling in fear. From the shadow beneath Zhi Xuan’s feet, a darkness denser than a starless night began to overflow, creeping up like a primordial mist carrying the scent of destruction.

From the vortex of darkness, a figure emerged. It was His Excellency, the body of the Ancient Devil—the main soul that had been submerged in the deepest oceanic trench. The figure stepped out with a cold majesty; his skin was as pale as marble, half-darkened by curses and adorned with pulsing runes of slaughter and the Ancient Devil. On his forehead, a single pillar stood tall, radiating a trembling authority.

His eyes, mirrors of the eternal void with one side blood-red—the other a manifestation of the Ancient Heavens—stared straight at the vortex of light that had just swallowed Han Shanshan and the others.

"Divine Transformation..." the voice of His Excellency sounded not through the ears, but resonated directly within the bone marrow of anyone who heard it. "Han Shanshan, you are truly just like back then."

With a subtle motion, the white-clothed body was drawn in and merged with His Excellency, forming a terrifying duality of forms. His Excellency closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, a cold flash struck from his gaze as he raised his hand, allowing himself to be swept away by the Secret Realm formation expelling all creatures.

The spatial laws, usually smooth, became coarse and sharp, trying to tear apart the body deemed an irregularity by the Secret Realm, but His Excellency only snorted coldly. Every spatial pressure that hit him was instead crushed into shards of energy, which he then swallowed into the single pillar on his forehead.

Meanwhile, in the Cang Hai Plains, specifically above the usually calm and deep Cang Hai Ocean, the atmosphere was far more tense. Nine flying ships of the Ancient Clans and the Heavenly Leaf of the Sacred Leaf Pavilion of the Sky hovered in the air, each radiating the aura of the Great Elders from the Nine Ancient Clans.

"They are coming," murmured the Great Elder of the Han Clan, his voice shaking the sea surface below. His wrinkled yet dignified face showed an unconcealed pride. "I can feel Shanshan’s aura. He has succeeded. Divine Transformation at such a young age... the Han Clan will lead this era!"

One by one, shadows shot out from the light portal. Han Shanshan landed on the Han Clan ship with a grand thud, followed by Zhu Qinglan, Wang Mingshen, and the other geniuses. Each of them brought a new glow of law, a statement that the map of power in the Nine Plains had changed today.

However, Han Shanshan did not immediately pay respects to his elder. Instead, he turned around, staring at the shrinking portal of light with a bloodthirsty gaze. He drew the Nine-Trench Ice Whip into his hand, radiating a coldness that caused the seawater beneath the ship to freeze instantly.

"Shanshan, what are you doing?" the Han Clan Elder asked with a furrowed brow.

"Waiting for an ant that dared to challenge a dragon, Elder," Han Shanshan answered with a cruel tone. "Someone who must die by my hand before he can even set foot on this land."