A single line of gold pulsed before Lu’s eyes.

  He was calm.

  His heart was a windless lake.

  He had known this moment was coming. For two months he had played nothing but “Yin-Yang Endgames,” forging his soul, mastering the Tianyuan essence he’d siphoned. Ten months of work—finished in sixty days.

  Efficiency through the roof.

  Lu leaned against the Thousand-Blade Chair, rain-soft wind kissing his face. He tucked the Spirit Pressure Board into the Nether Profound Ring and let the spring drizzle cool his skin.

  With a thought, the system panel unfolded.

  Host: Lu

  Title: Qi Refiner (Permanent)

  Qi Layer: 4 (Progress: 30,236 / 100,000 strands)

  Soul Strength: 1,120 (1,000 available → Soul Sense +10)

  Body Strength: 1,100 (1,010 available → Divine Demon Blood +8)

  Strands: 21,793

  Spirit Liquid: 3 drops

  Condense Mind: 5

  Pending Cash-In: 96,100 strands

  World Tier: Five Phoenixes [Mid Martial]

  Tools: Spirit Pressure Board, Phoenix Plume Swords ×5

  Arts: Heaven-Toppling Gambit, Mind Condensing

  Free Points: 2,083

  “Cash in.”

  The word left his lips like a pebble into still water.

  Everything changed.

  Spirit qi roared into him—tidal, molten, endless.

  His dantian ballooned.

  His mind thundered.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  His soul screamed.

  Pain.

  First time in forever.

  The Thousand-Blade Chair groaned beneath the pressure.

  Far below, Wolong Ridge.

  Four pairs of eyes snapped open.

  Du Longyang’s throat went dry.

  “Land of immortals… is that Young Master Lu?”

  Ye Shoudao swallowed. “Only one direction fits.”

  They shot skyward, streaking toward North Luo City.

  Ten thousand meters up, the Origin Lake churned. Energy thick enough to chew cloaked the island.

  Lu ignored the onlookers.

  He was busy not exploding.

  Ninety-six thousand strands slammed home.

  Crack—

  Layer Four shattered.

  Layer Five bloomed.

  One hundred thousand strands.

  A qualitative leap.

  He exhaled.

  The breath carved the air, split space, left a black fissure hissing with annihilation.

  Du Longyang’s group arrived just in time to feel their knees buckle.

  “Above Infant Transformation?” the Empress whispered.

  No one answered.

  They couldn’t.

  The Origin Lake rose higher—fifteen thousand meters—until the air thinned and frost glittered on the rails.

  Lu sat alone, white robes snapping, surveying the continent like a bored god.

  Time to dust off an old quest.

  “Make the world forget White Jade Capital.”

  The Nine Hells Secret Realm would birth Nascent Souls by the dozen.

  Crystal legacies—pill, weapon, divination—waited for lucky hands.

  Tianyuan prodigies brought fire and new ideas.

  Dao steles promised a ceiling higher than Tianyuan’s wildest dreams.

  Everything was in place.

  White Jade Capital had shepherded the age of cultivation.

  Now it was a lid on the pot.

  Time to vanish.

  Let the world boil.

  Lu lifted a hand.

  Divine sense vanished from four Infant Transformation hearts; they couldn’t even see his silhouette anymore.

  Du Longyang’s confidence curdled.

  Four of them together?

  One slap.

  High above, thunder growled—yet the sky stayed blue.

  Golden arcs danced between invisible clouds.

  “Thunder tribulation… from beyond the world,” Lu murmured.

  He had faced tribulation before—world-born, trivial.

  This one came from outside the Five Phoenixes.

  Unbound.

  Unforgiving.

  Boom!

  A golden sun detonated overhead.

  Across the continent, mortals looked up and saw a second sun blaze for half a day.

  Space twisted.

  Every bolt carried doomsday weight.

  Du Longyang’s group saw only intermittent solar flares.

  Then—silence.

  The lake stilled.

  The island drifted in perfect calm.

  Lu sat unchanged, as if he’d merely finished a quiet game.

  “Still alive?” Ye Shoudao croaked.

  “Alive and bored,” Lu answered—though only the wind heard.

  A slit tore open the firmament.

  Radiance rained—not world-origin, something vaster.

  It poured into his flesh, his soul, his marrow.

  “System, what is this?”

  No answer.

  The system crouched, aura locked tight, playing dead.

  Lu’s eyes flashed.

  Hiding.

  Afraid.

  Afraid of the light—or what stood behind it.

  A wild idea sparked.

  If the light was precious…

  Why not drink the tap dry?

  His soul vortex spun.

  Suction erupted.

  The sky answered with greater force.

  His soul stretched, yanked upward into starless void.

  He rose, rose—until something vast and ancient noticed.

  A wall slammed down.

  His vortex gulped anyway, stealing mouthfuls of cosmic marrow.

  One glimpse: jeweled mega-worlds, radiant, terrifying.

  Then a boot to the soul.

  He crash-landed in his body, lips smacking.

  “Stingy.”

  The rift sealed.

  The system peeked out, trembling.

  > Skyscrapers rise from flat ground.

  > Congratulations, Host—Qi Refining Fifth Layer.

  > Spirit Qi: 100,000 strands.

  Lu rolled his eyes.

  “Welcome back, coward.”