The wind howling through the floating peaks of the Ascendant Realm was crisp, carrying the thick, refreshing scent of high-grade spiritual Qi. A streak of fluid darkness blurred across the jagged mountain paths, moving with such terrifying speed that it left afterimages in the golden mist. Shaktivel sat low on the back of the condensed Primordial Void Sovereign, his violet eyes locked onto the massive chasm opening up ahead.This was the Black-Lotus Valley.The valley was a massive, natural bowl surrounded by towering, purple-tinted stone cliffs that natural spiritual energy had carved over thousands of years. Deep within the valley, fields of dark, glowing herbs stretched out like a sea of midnight velvet, but the true treasure lay at the very center—a heavily fortified stone fortress carved directly into the mountain core, pulsing with the defensive arrays of the High Heavens Sect. This fortress was the outer region's primary resource vault, storing millions of raw spirit stones col

Chapter 13: The Descent upon the High HeavensThe golden mist surrounding the floating sanctums of the High Heavens Sect was usually a symbol of divine tranquility and unyielding authority. For tens of thousands of years, the supreme sect had looked down upon the lower mortal realms and the surrounding provinces of the Ascendant Realm as nothing more than cattle grounds—places to extract spirit stones, recruit malleable talent, and discard the weak.Tonight, that ancient tranquility was shattered into a million jagged pieces.High above the central floating island, where the grand ancestral palace stood bathed in starlight, the clouds didn't merely part; they burned. A sudden, violent tear in space ripped across the sky, crackling with dark violet lightning and thick, suffocating spatial rifts. The sheer atmospheric pressure descending from the rift caused the massive protective mountain arrays to groan, the defensive runes on the floating marble bridges flickering wildly in panic.Em

The outer boundary of the Ascendant Realm shattered with a sound like tearing silk.Across the vast spatial ocean that separated the outer provinces from the heart of the Grand Upper Realm, a streak of violet-gold lightning cut through the cosmic void. The Primordial Void Monarch—now a hundred-foot titan of midnight scales, glowing cosmic runes, and six massive wings wrapped in spatial lightning—glided through the void with absolute dominance. The spatial storms that usually pulverized ordinary Nascent Soul vessels harmlessly dissolved upon touching its midnight armor.Standing atop the Monarch's broad snout, Shaktivel held the High Heavens Divine Sword loosely in his right hand. His long black hair floated freely, tipped with dark purple flames that flickered in harmony with his newly formed Divine Nascent Soul.Inside his dantian, sitting cross-legged in the center of a roaring ocean of violet-gold spatial Qi, was a tiny, glowing infant figure—his Divine Nascent Soul. It mirrored Sh

The wind that swept across the Golden Sword Domain did not carry the scent of blooming spring or mountain pine; it smelled eternally of old, stagnant blood and the sharp, metallic tang of unyielding steel. For eight thousand years, this sprawling mountain range had been known by a different name—the Shakti Divine Mountain, the sacred cradle where nine empires bowed and the ancient sovereigns of the Central Realm once commanded the stars. Now, it was a gilded cage, its ancestral spirit veins ruthlessly hollowed out to feed the arrogance of the Heavenly Sword Empire.High above the central ridge, where the golden fog rolled across towering precipices carved to resemble giant, soaring blades, the Centennial Ancestral Trial was about to reach its zenith.Thousands of elite disciples, all clad in brilliant white and gold robes bearing the crest of crossed celestial swords, filled the vast stone amphitheater carved into the mountain's flank. At the center of the arena stood a massive, pulsa

The central sky above the floating Imperial Palace turned into a boiling, chaotic sea of gold, crimson, and pitch-black void. The absolute pressure radiating from the two Peak Ninth-Layer Nascent Soul monsters—Emperor Jian-Sheng and Sect Master Helios—forced the surrounding clouds to collapse, turning the air so heavy that ordinary cultivators thousands of feet below collapsed onto their knees, coughing up mouthfuls of fresh blood.Emperor Jian-Sheng’s golden dragon robes billowed violently. In his right hand, he held the Imperial Sovereign Sceptre, an Earth-Grade Peak Artifact that hummed with the stolen luck and dragon-vein aura of nine conquered worlds. His face, usually a mask of absolute, unyielding majesty, was twisted into a grotesque sneer of rage."A surviving rat from the lower dirt... reaching the Late-Stage Nascent Soul Realm?!" Jian-Sheng’s voice boomed across the sky like rolling thunder. "Ten thousand years ago, your ancestors fell because they were soft! They believed