Heavenly Wheel Ascension

The Elders of the other clans, including the Zhu and Feng Clans, began to notice the rising tension. Zhu Qinglan looked as though she wanted to step forward, but the warning glance from her brother and the overwhelming pressure from the Zhu Clan's Great Elder kept her frozen in place.

Just as the light portal was about to close, an unnatural tremor swept across the entire ocean. It was not a silvery light that emerged, but an explosion of dense darkness, as if night itself were being squeezed through the eye of a needle. A figure stepped out from that void.

He did not fly; instead, he walked upon the air as if the vacuum itself were his private staircase. His robe was pitch black, bearing the same essence as the original manifestation of Zhi Xuan that the world once knew. His long, dark-purple hair danced in a sea breeze that had suddenly turned cold and carried the scent of brine.

"Who is he?!" one of the clan Elders exclaimed. "Is that the youth? Zhi Xuan?!"

Han Shanshan narrowed his eyes, a momentary flicker of confusion crossing his arrogant face. "Zhi Xuan? Why has he returned to his original appearance?"

Confusion spread among them. They assumed the Zhi Xuan before them was the same one they had known before he had suddenly appeared in white robes at the entrance of the Secret Realm. Seeing this form, they believed that his previous appearance had merely been a transformative disguise, and now he was revealing his true self.

"That body..." The voice came from Ye Xishui. Her sorrowful eyes gazed at him with total recognition as the silhouette of Zhi Xuan's dark form emerged from the robes. Her karmic bond trembled. "It is him... it is truly Senior Zhi. But why does he seem so different?"

On the other side, Zhu Qinglan also felt her karmic bond with the approaching man vibrate. It was as if the strange feeling she had experienced with the white-robed body was a mere illusion, and now she was looking at the face of the man who had occupied her thoughts for centuries.

"It is him... it is truly him, Brother," Zhu Qinglan whispered softly, anxiously rubbing her fingers as she looked at Zhu Yanghai. "The karmic bond cannot lie; it is him and no one else. But why did I feel like he was a stranger when he wore those white robes yesterday? Now, as he emerges from the Secret Realm... he truly looks like my Dao Protector."

"Yaoyue, have you discovered something?" Feng Haoyue asked, staring sharply at his younger sister, who was looking at Zhi Xuan with sparkling eyes. "Control your feelings. Look around; the other Holy Sons and Daughters are shocked because they think they saw a man in disguise return to his original face."

Feng Yaoyue did not answer her brother with words. Instead, she stepped to the edge of the Feng Clan's Phoenix ship. "Oh Gods, why is Senior Zhi becoming too much for Yaoyue to handle?"

"Previously, I felt Senior Zhi was washing away his karma by wearing white," Feng Yaoyue whispered with intense interest, even as she received a sharp glare from the Feng Great Elder. "And now, he has returned with his black robes. Brother Haoyue, hold me tight so I don’t run over there and hug him!"

"Brother, quick, hold me!" Feng Yaoyue whispered again, the blush on her cheeks contrasting with the aura of Divine Transformation flames still enveloping her. "If not, I will forget the dignity of the Feng Clan and go to him. Look at him, Brother! That aura... it’s no longer just coldness; it is a commanding majesty!"

Feng Haoyue massaged his temples, feeling the dignity of their clan was at stake due to the behavior of his sister, who was usually arrogant but now acted like a mortal girl in love. "Yaoyue, control yourself! You are a Holy Princess! The Great Elder is watching you with a gaze that could kill a dragon!"

However, Feng Yaoyue seemed not to hear. Her eyes remained fixed on the figure floating in the distance. To her, Zhi Xuan’s appearance in black robes with a dense dark aura was far more captivating than the white-robed body she met inside the Secret Realm; she found the previous form boring compared to this true face.

"The Great Elder can stare all he wants," Yaoyue said, her voice rising slightly and causing the elite disciples behind her to whisper. "But look at that man. He walks upon the air of Cang Hai as if this ocean were nothing more than a fish pond in his backyard. Doesn't he look like a God of War just returning from the slaughter of stars?"

"Yaoyue! Enough!" barked the Feng Great Elder, his voice carrying a suppressive vibration of Law. Yet, the Holy Princess only tilted her head, still wearing her undisguised look of adoration.

On the Zhu Clan's platform, the atmosphere was no less tense, but in a different tone. Zhu Qinglan stood frozen, her slender fingers gripping the ship's railing until the jade began to crack under her unstable icy aura.

"So... my suspicion was right all along," Zhu Qinglan murmured, her voice trembling between relief and deep confusion. "That white-robed body was merely a veil. The power I felt in the crater hall... the strange aura that made me doubt... it was all his game. But this man, the one standing there in black... he is the one who has filled every gap in my understanding of the Dao."

Zhu Yanghai looked at his sister with concern, then turned a searching gaze toward Zhi Xuan. "Our brother-in-law hid his essence even from us, Qinglan. Someone capable of deceiving the senses of a Divine Transformation practitioner while not yet reaching that realm himself... that is a terrifying ability."

Meanwhile, on the Han Clan ship, the atmosphere was frozen in thick killing intent. Han Shanshan, previously full of triumph, now felt his pride trampled by Zhi Xuan's calm appearance.

"Changing forms? Returning to your true face?" Han Shanshan hissed, his voice sounding like ice scraping against metal. "Do you think by changing your robes and revealing your face, you can hide the fact that you are but a Weaver Transformation ant in my eyes?"

"Great Elder!" Han Shanshan turned to the old man beside him. "Let me shatter this charade. Whoever he is, whether Gu Fengyan or Zhi Xuan, he has insulted the name of the Han Clan inside the Secret Realm. His head must be the first sacrifice for my spear after reaching Divine Transformation!"

"Noisy," His Excellency said, raising his hand, making the space around him seem to bow at his mere grip. "If you wish to fight, then wait twenty years."

"Twenty years?" Han Shanshan burst into laughter, a laugh that released waves of ice, shattering the clouds around him. "In twenty years, I will have surpassed all Holy Sons, and you will be but dust in history. Why should I wait for an ant begging for time?"

His Excellency—Zhi Xuan in his true form—did not return the laughter. He took a single step, appearing directly in front of Han Shanshan’s face. The tremor from such a close arrival made the Han Clan's flying ship vibrate slightly. He stared coldly, letting his dark sapphire eyes, which acted as the face of the world, gaze into Han Shanshan’s.

"Give me those twenty years," Zhi Xuan said coldly, staring darkly at Han Shanshan. "I promise you, if I lose this bet, I will renounce my status as the Dao Protector of Holy Fairy Zhu and Holy Fairy Ye, and I will behead myself before the eyes of the Nine Plains."

Instantly, a deathly silence fell over the Cang Hai Ocean. Zhi Xuan’s statement was not merely a challenge, but a blood oath that shook the foundations of a practitioner's honor. Risking his life and his status as a Dao Protector before the Nine Ancient Clans was an act of madness beyond mortal logic.

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"Twenty years to behead yourself?" Han Shanshan sneered, his eyes glinting with bloodthirsty madness. "How interesting. But what do I get if you—somehow—manage to survive those twenty years only to die by my hand?"

Zhi Xuan did not answer immediately. He turned slowly, gazing at the vast horizon of the Nine Plains, then looked back at Han Shanshan with a gaze that seemed to see beyond the man’s Divine Transformation body.

"What you get..." Zhi Xuan’s voice was low but resonated like thunder in the depths of the ocean. He stepped back and returned to his original position in the blink of an eye. "The Abyssal Reaping Crescent, which I have conquered, the Gods Slaughter Crescent."

Zhi Xuan moved his blackened left hand gracefully, and there appeared a scythe the size of a man. Even Holy Princess Chen and Holy Son Wang, who had previously only stared at that treasure from afar—not daring to take it due to its hazardous nature—were so shocked their pupils dilated.

Holy Princess Chen, Chen Ling'er, stepped to the edge of her ship, her pale purple eyes reflecting deep disbelief. "You... you actually took it? From the bottom of the Jiu-Quan flow?"

Wang Mingshen beside her also could not hide his shock. "Impossible. The soul-fading formation at the Underworld Mountain is a death trap for anyone below the Divine Transformation realm. How could a Weaver pluck it from the womb of death?"

Zhi Xuan held the black handle of the Gods Slaughter Crescent casually, as if the weapon of calamity were a common farmer's scythe. He looked at Han Shanshan, whose face had turned pale and then flushed red with an anger fueled by burning envy.

"This is the stake," Zhi Xuan continued, his voice calm yet carrying suppressive authority. "If the day of the twenty-year agreement comes, this weapon—equivalent to a divine instrument—will belong to the Han Clan if I lose. But if not..."

Zhi Xuan paused, his eyes flashing with a darkness that swallowed everything. "Then half of the Han Ancient Clan’s resources will be mine to support my cultivation until I reach Sacred Passage."

The roar of the waves in the Cang Hai Ocean seemed to stop instantly, swallowed by the suffocating silence following Zhi Xuan’s demand. The Great Elders of the Nine Ancient Clans, who had been watching with disdain, stood up in unison from the thrones of their flying ships.

"Audacious!" roared the Han Clan Great Elder, his voice shaking the horizon and creating waves dozens of feet high. "You, a practitioner with no clear clan background, dare to bet half of the Han Clan’s foundation? Who do you think you are, black-robed boy?!"

Zhi Xuan did not flinch in the face of that high-level pressure. "My name is Zhi Xuan, though you in Yao Gu know me as Gu Fengyan. This scythe is one of the Thirteen Calamity Banners."

He glanced briefly at Holy Son Wang, then at Holy Princess Chen before looking back at the Han Clan. "Holy Princess Chen, you who possess the Dao Fetus surely know; you didn't even touch this scythe in the Secret Realm. Isn't the value of this instrument a fitting match for Holy Son Han himself?"

Han Shanshan gripped his Nine-Trench Ice Whip so hard his knuckles turned white. The envy burning in his soul nearly surpassed his reason. He, a genius just bathed in the light of the Core Tower, had lost the most precious treasure of the Secret Realm to someone he considered an ant.

"That scythe..." Han Shanshan hissed, his eyes fixed on the blackish-red runes pulsing on the blade. "You are truly lucky, Zhi Xuan. But your luck today will be your curse tomorrow."

He then turned to his Great Elder, his voice loud with arrogant confidence. "Great Elder! Accept the bet! Twenty years is but a single breath in meditation to me. Before my pure Divine Transformation realm, twenty years from now, he will only be crawling in the dust. We will not only have his head but also that divine instrument for the glory of the Han Clan!"

The Han Great Elder narrowed his eyes, weighing the risks carefully. His gaze shifted to the Elders of the other clans who were beginning to whisper. The Zhu and Ye Clans seemed to side with Zhi Xuan, while other clans showed the same greed toward the scythe.

"Fine!" the Han Great Elder finally struck his staff against the ship's deck, his voice booming like a celestial decree. "Witnessed by the Nine Ancient Clans and the Cang Hai Ocean, this contract is engraved. Twenty years from now, in the Central Plains, you shall surrender your life and that weapon."

Zhi Xuan smiled thinly, a smile that did not reach his eyes, which were as deep as an abyss. He released his grip on the Gods Slaughter Crescent, letting the scythe fade into his inner shadow. Without another word, he punched the empty air, opening a void rift as he slowly backed away.

"This Zhi will not forget the kindness of the Han Ancient Clan," Zhi Xuan’s voice pierced through with a haunting smile. "And to the Qin Ancient Clan, this Zhi will always remember the day Holy Princess Qin Meiling accepted me as a grand guest."

The disappearance of the black-robed figure left a suffocating emptiness above the Cang Hai Ocean. The spatial rift that had just closed still left subtle vibrations that made the surrounding spiritual essence unstable.

"He is gone..." Qin Meiling murmured. The Qin Holy Princess stood frozen at the bow, her beautiful eyes still fixed on the spot where Zhi Xuan had vanished. His last words—that he would remember being accepted as a grand guest—felt like sweet honey and a cold warning in her ears.

On the other side, Feng Yaoyue seemed weak, leaning her body against her brother’s stiff arm. "Brother Haoyue, did you hear that? He challenged the entire Han Clan... and he did it with that smile. Truly... a man who is very troublesome for my heart."

Feng Haoyue did not respond. His eyes were fixed on Han Shanshan, who was now standing with his body trembling violently from suppressed rage. Han Shanshan’s Divine Transformation pressure exploded outward, creating a vortex that tormented the low-level disciples around him.

"Twenty years," Han Shanshan hissed, his voice hoarse. "I will use every second to ensure that when I take his head, he will beg never to have been born into this world!"

The Han Great Elder snorted coldly, waving his wide sleeves and ordering the clan’s ships to turn back. "Return! He thinks he can just walk away after speaking like that before the Ancient Clans."

Meanwhile, on the Zhu ship, Zhu Qinglan still stared at the sea, which was beginning to calm. The sea breeze swept her hair, carrying the faint scent of darkness left by Zhi Xuan.

"Qinglan," Zhu Yanghai called in a low voice. "That bet... you know how dangerous it is, right? In twenty years, Han Shanshan could reach the high levels of Divine Transformation. While our brother-in-law... he is only a mid-stage Weaver Transformation practitioner."

Zhu Qinglan turned around, her beautiful face calm, but with a new sharpness in her eyes. "Brother, it’s as if you’ve only just met him. You see him as a Weaver trying to chase the sky. But I... I have always seen that he wants to show that even a mortal can defy the Ancient Clans."

She then looked toward the Ye Clan ship, where Ye Xishui also seemed lost in her own thoughts. The two women who shared a karmic bond with the same man exchanged a brief look, an unspoken understanding forming between them.

"He didn't ask for twenty years to survive, Brother," Zhu Qinglan continued as she walked toward her meditation room. "He asked for twenty years to catch up to what he left behind."

On one of the ships, a woman with eyes that radiated charm smiled thinly and let out a soft sigh before leaving with the Shen Ancient Clan.

The majestic ships began to move away from the Cang Hai Ocean one by one, returning to their respective plains, but now carrying news that would soon shake the Nine Plains. The challenge of a mortal negotiating with an Ancient Clan, like two beasts clashing, would become the fire that burned in every teahouse and sect hall.

In a place far from the bustle of the ancient clan armadas, on a coral island hidden by eternal mists thousands of li from the Bai Ancient Clan territory, space suddenly formed a dark vortex and cracked. A black rift gaped open, spitting out a black-robed figure who landed with slightly unsteady steps.

The man immediately leaned against the damp coral cave wall, his hand clutching his chest while his breath came in short gasps. Forcing two existences of different natures to merge under the pressure of the outside world's laws had taken a heavy toll.

Light glowed as His Excellency immediately separated, leaving the white-robed version leaning wearily against the coral wall. He punched the empty air once more, creating a spatial rift that exhaled the breath of the void. His Excellency walked toward the rift, glancing back briefly.

"Do not cause trouble during these twenty years," the voice resonated directly into the white-robed soul. "Hide as far as you can; the Ancient Clans and the big rats will surely hunt for that scythe. I shall find the path to the second Great Constellation."

The white-robed Zhi Xuan coughed, blood seeping from his lips and staining the usually sacred silk with the contrasting red of life. He stared at the figure of His Excellency—his Ancient Devil body—with a tired but understanding gaze. This separation left an agonizing emptiness in his marrow, as if his soul had just been mercilessly split.

His Excellency spoke no more. With a single step that ignored the laws of distance, he entered the void rift he had created. His figure was swallowed by absolute darkness, heading into the depths of the void where he would crawl toward the Great Constellation without the aid of any ancient formations. The rift closed with a soft hiss, leaving Zhi Xuan alone in the coral cave, thick with the scent of moss.