Chapter 36

  The battlefield lay scorched, the skies cracked faintly where space had yet to fully mend. Craters dotted the terrain like the footprints of gods, and the land was quiet in awe. Amidst the silence, the two versions of Han Wuqing slowly merged back into one, his aura warping as soul and body synchronized once more.

  Blood trickled from his ears, his eyes, even his fingernails.

  “So this is the price,” Han Wuqing muttered hoarsely, swaying. “For pushing both body and soul to their limits…”

  From amidst the crowd, Zhou Yanyue, the esteemed one of the Ebonreich Empire, floated down with quiet grace. Her presence was ethereal, commanding — until now.

  She approached slowly, her imperial robes fluttering with each step. Her gaze studied him with a curious mix of respect and calculation.

  “Sect Leader Han Wuqing,” she said, voice clear, “your feats today were nothing short of transcendent. Even the heavens seem to have marked you.”

  She paused, then added smoothly, “The Ebonreich Empire would like to extend an invitation — to offer you a seat of great authority. We would assimilate the Grand Harmony Sect willingly, keeping your philosophies intact… and if you would have it…”

  Her voice softened.

  “…I would offer myself as your partner, in cultivation and in life.”

  That line sent ripples through the audience — the Six Soul Transformation cultivators stiffened, Peak Masters exchanged glances, and even the normally unreadable Aria looked visibly shaken, lips parting in silent disbelief.

  But Han Wuqing didn’t speak.

  He made his move.

  In the blink of an eye, he pinched the space between them—folding reality like fabric—and Zhou Yanyue was suddenly standing inches from him, pulled forward without ever taking a step.

  She flinched — not from fear, but from the sudden collapse of emotional distance. For the first time in centuries, her breath hitched.

  He looked into her eyes — quiet, unreadable.

  “Do you want that?” he asked, voice low. Not cruel. Not mocking. Just a quiet question that cut through her imperial mask.

  Zhou Yanyue blinked, her eyes wide. A faint pink crept onto her cheeks — subtle, but unmistakable.

  “I… wouldn’t mind,” she answered sheepishly, looking away just for a moment.

  Han Wuqing stepped back, blood still drying on his face, his gaze now distant again.

  “Then… I apologize,” he said gently. “I cannot reciprocate that feeling.”

  He turned slightly, addressing her and the crowd all at once.

  “As for joining the Empire — the Grand Harmony Sect’s path is cultivation itself. We seek truth, not power. Our goals diverge.”

  He paused, then added with sincerity:

  “But if ever there is a threat that endangers this world… know that we will stand beside you. All sects united — not under one banner, but under the shared will to protect what must not fall.”

  Zhou Yanyue said nothing for a long moment. She looked at him — not with scorn or offense, but with a strange, quiet admiration.

  And the sky above, once wounded, continued slowly stitching itself back together.

  The six Soul Transformation realm cultivators, along with Zhou Yanyue, took their leave—their purpose at the tribulation site now fulfilled.

  Left behind were Sect Leader Han Wuqing, the peak masters, Elder Guo, Adam, Mu Qing Li, Xiaoyan, Xiaomei, Aria, and the remaining disciples. They watched the powerful figures vanish into the distance, their departure leaving behind an air of quiet awe.

  Han Wuqing turned to address the group.

  “Let us return to the sect. Resume your duties and reflect well on what you’ve witnessed today.”

  With a wave of his hand, he enveloped them all within a spatial barrier. Then, with a sudden warping of the world, they were gone—racing through the skies at four hundred miles per second. The scenery around them blurred into incomprehensible streaks of color, too fast for their senses to process. Most could not even feel the wind rushing past—only the stillness of Han Wuqing’s protective domain and the tug of immense speed.

  ---

  During the Journey

  Xiaoyan glanced inward, directing his thoughts to Lunaria.

  “Master,” he asked, “back then… you spoke of the Dao. What exactly is it?”

  There was a moment of stillness, and then her voice echoed gently in his mind.

  “Since you’ve asked,” she said, “and since it will help you in the Core Formation realm, I shall explain.”

  “The Dao is known by many names across countless realms: laws, Tao, frameworks, principles, the fabric of reality. At its core, it is information—truths about how existence functions.”

  She paused briefly.

  “Let’s take the Dao of the Sword, for example. Tell me, Xiaoyan, what are swords most often used for?”

  “Killing?” he guessed.

  “Correct,” Lunaria affirmed. “And killing connects to the Dao of Death. Now, what does death lead to?

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “…Destruction?”

  “Exactly. The Dao of Death is a facet of the Dao of Destruction. And that, in turn, is part of an even greater, foundational Dao—the Dao of Chaos. One of the core Daos that governs all existence.”

  “So… there’s a hierarchy?” Xiaoyan asked, trying to keep up. “Core Daos… then foundational ones… and then…?”

  “Then there are the derived Daos—offshoots born from the greater ones. Finally, there’s the Personal Dao, a unique path you carve out for yourself. One that resonates with who you are.”

  Xiaoyan scratched his head, overwhelmed.

  “So… if I know all this already, does that mean I’ve… started comprehending a Dao?”

  Lunaria chuckled softly.

  “Just knowing about them isn’t enough. That’s like reading the name of a mountain from a map and thinking you’ve climbed it. To comprehend a Dao is to experience it, understand it, and become one with its truth.”

  “Let’s return to the Dao of the Sword,” she continued. “Say you fight a spear user and lose. Even though you understand how a sword works, their spear defeats you. If you then study how the spear works—its intent, its rhythm—you also begin to understand the Dao of Killing by Spear. That knowledge will deepen your understanding of your own Dao of the Sword.”

  “In this way, Daos are interconnected. By learning more, you refine your own.”

  Xiaoyan groaned.

  “This is complicated.”

  “No,” Lunaria said, her tone gentle. “It is simple… but it contains infinite variations. That’s what makes the Dao so wondrous—and so difficult to truly master.”

  While Lunaria and Lan Xiaoyan were having the conversation in Xiaoyan’s mind.

  Adam was thinking about what Elder Guo earlier said about the Mirror Trial.

  “It is a trial known only to those attempting to ascend from Soul Transformation. Rare, and feared. According to the ancient records, this is no mere test of strength or cultivation.”

  “A cultivator’s soul is laid bare—confronted by their truest self. Every buried regret, every suppressed desire, every contradiction they’ve ignored or denied… all of it takes form. It is not an enemy to defeat. It is the version of themselves they never allowed to exist.”

  Thinking about this, Adam was contemplating.

  "The Mirror Trial ain't no joke… If this is what everyone has to face when they reach the Soul Transformation Realm, then..."

  A chill settled in his bones. Not from fear, but from clarity. For all the battles he’d faced so far—beasts, cultivators, schemes—it was always an external force he could punch, dodge, outthink, or overwhelm. But this trial… this wasn’t something he could fight in the usual way.

  No technique could guard him from the version of himself that questioned everything.

  No weapon could silence the voice that whispered the truths he refused to acknowledge.

  He clenched his fists slowly.

  "I must stay true to myself.”

  “If I ever want to break through… I’ll have to face myself before I face the heavens.”

  After everyone returned to the sect,

  Sect Leader Han Wuqing turned to Adam and said, “Come with me.”

  They walked in silence through winding halls until they arrived at the quiet, incense-scented interior of the Jade Mirror Pavilion. The room was calm, but the air between them felt heavy.

  Han Wuqing faced him, his tone serious. “What is your connection with Zayk?”

  Adam blinked. “What do you mean?”

  Han Wuqing’s eyes narrowed slightly. “After reaching the Soul Transformation Realm, my perception of fate sharpened. I can now clearly see the threads of destiny that bind people. At first, I assumed your thread was tied to me through the sect… but I was wrong.”

  He stepped closer, the jade mirrors reflecting his solemn face from every angle.

  “If it was just the sect, our threads would be woven differently. But in that cave, both you and I were bound by threads leading to the same origin point. That point… is Zayk.”

  He paused, his voice low but unwavering. “So tell me. What is your connection to him?”

  Adam let out a slow sigh, shoulders slumping slightly. “I was… cursed by Zayk. It was an unfortunate situation.”

  Han Wuqing didn’t even blink. “I’ve walked the Path of Understanding. Lies are like ripples in still water to me. Zayk wasn’t someone who would curse another without reason.”

  He turned away briefly, gazing at one of the jade mirrors, as if seeing a memory etched in reflection.

  “After taking three of the Titan’s hearts, he vanished—left this land without severing his ties to our bloodline. The world itself… punished us for his actions. Suffering and hardship fell on our family, a penance for his sins. If he was going to abandon this world, he should have at least cut those threads. Left us free.”

  Adam’s eyes widened. “Wait… you’re part of Zayk’s family!?”

  Han Wuqing didn’t answer.

  The silence said enough.

  Adam took a breath and began explaining.

  “I made a deal with Zayk when I was stranded on that island… I accidentally activated a formation hidden beneath it. It was disguised as a blessing ritual, but in truth—it was designed to summon a higher being into the lower world.”

  Han Wuqing narrowed his eyes. “You triggered a forbidden summoning formation?”

  Adam scratched his cheek, awkwardly. “Not on purpose.”

  Han didn’t respond. His silence was louder than any accusation.

  “What did Zayk give you in exchange?” he asked flatly.

  “I asked for a memory manipulation ability.”

  Han Wuqing raised an eyebrow. “And what was the cost?”

  Adam replied, calm but honest. “Six thousand years of lifespan.”

  Han stared at him. Then blinked.

  “You absolutely don’t have that much lifespan.”

  Adam shrugged. “Zayk agreed to take the remaining lifespan gradually. Like how I only got 111 years after reaching Foundation Establishment. He’ll claim more after I break through to higher realms.”

  Han crossed his arms, voice sharpening. “That’s an incredibly high-risk deal—for him. What did he ask for if you fail?”

  Adam’s gaze darkened slightly. “My soul.”

  Han’s lips pressed into a line. “Your soul alone wouldn’t be enough to balance that deal.”

  Adam sighed and rubbed the back of his head. “He also added a condition… I’m not allowed to kill any being or contribute to their death, directly or indirectly.”

  Han Wuqing went completely expressionless.

  “…And you agreed to that?” he asked slowly.

  “I was a little desperate at the time,” Adam admitted with a weak laugh.

  Han Wuqing stared at him. “So that’s why you said you weren’t going to kill anyone…” He exhaled sharply, muttering under his breath. “You are fucking stupid for accepting that deal.”

  Adam raised a finger in protest. “No, correction. I already decided I wouldn’t kill even before making the deal. I’m just stubborn about it. No amount of berating, mocking, or torture is going to change my mind.”

  Han Wuqing looked at him with the expression of a man witnessing someone willingly jump off a cliff.

  “…Great,” he said dryly. “You’ve just confirmed you’re stubbornly fucking stupid.”

  Han Wuqing stared at Adam for a long moment, then shook his head slightly.

  “I’m surprised you even made it this far without killing anyone.”

  Adam gave a faint, knowing smile. “I know.”

  Han’s gaze sharpened. “Let me ask you something. What will you do if you’re left with no choice but to kill?”

  Adam replied without hesitation. “I’ll use my memory manipulation ability to make the person—or thing—forget why they even wanted to fight me in the first place.”

  He paused, then added, voice quieter but firm, “And if you’re asking about a situation where that’s not possible… then I’d rather kill myself.”

  Silence fell over the room like a blade hanging in the air.

  Han Wuqing slowly rubbed his temple, exhaling in disbelief. “Even after stepping onto the Path of Understanding, I still don’t understand you one bit.”

  Just as Han Wuqing let out a sigh, a calm knock sounded at the door.

  Peak Master Ai stepped in, her expression poised yet urgent. “Apologies for the interruption, Sect Leader,” she said, bowing lightly. “I bring a message from the Royal Palace.”

  Han Wuqing frowned. “What do they want now?”

  “They’re hosting a Grand Tournament,” she replied. “An imperial-scale event. Every sect within the empire has been invited to send their most promising disciples.”

  Han Wuqing narrowed his eyes. “A tournament… What are they up to this time?” He leaned back slightly, folding his arms. “Alright. What are the prizes?”

  Peak Master Ai pulled out a golden scroll from her sleeve and read from it with a composed tone.

  “For third place—an ancient artifact known as the Granitsa’s Subspace Cube. Though damaged, it still functions partially. It was once used to imprison beings within a subspace—capable of holding as many as one wished for as long as desired. Now, its sealing functions are broken. Any attempt to trap a being inside results in the cube rejecting and expelling them within 10 days.”

  She looked up from the scroll. “In its current state, it can serve as a spacious mobile dwelling—a temporary home for travel, or perhaps an emergency escape room. But beyond that, I see little practical use.”

  Han Wuqing nodded slightly. “Still not bad as a support tool. And second place?”

  Ai continued, her voice gaining a hint of intrigue.

  “Second place will be awarded the ‘Everflame Womb Crystal’—a rare elemental treasure.”

  Adam blinked.

  Peak Master Ai explained, “It’s a naturally formed crystalline seed, nurtured in the core of the Eternal Ember Volcano. Once planted within a spiritual environment, it generates a continuous stream of pure, stable fire-element Qi—capable of nurturing fire element cultivators, refining pills, and even tempering weapons. It’s compatible with formation arrays and can be safely harvested without elemental backlash. A treasure any sect could benefit from, regardless of who wins.”

  Han Wuqing raised a brow in genuine interest. “Now that’s useful. And for first place?”

  Peak Master Ai smiled slightly. “The Champion will receive a Royal Commission—a personal audience with the Imperial Blacksmith, who will forge a weapon of their choosing. No cost. No restrictions. A custom-made spiritual or semi-divine weapon, tailored to the winner’s affinity, fighting style, and body.”

  Adam’s eyes lit up, and even Han Wuqing leaned forward slightly.

  “That’s… a true prize.”

  Peak Master Ai added, “And in addition, the sect of the first-place winner will receive a reward of one million spirit stones.”

  Han Wuqing gave a small whistle. “Now it makes sense. They want to stir the pot.”

  Han Wuqing leaned back with a sigh, eyes narrowing.

  “If the royal palace is hosting this themselves… then not showing up will give them the perfect excuse to meddle. Maybe even declare us uncooperative. Typical political bait.”

  He waved his hand lightly.

  “You may leave now, Peak Master Ai.”

  She bowed gracefully and left, the heavy doors closing with a quiet thud behind her.

  Silence settled.

  Adam took a breath. “Sect Leader… I want to participate in the Grand Tournament.”

  Han Wuqing turned his head slightly, eyeing him. “Are you sure about that?” His voice was calm, but edged. “You realize the matches are death battles, right? It ends in either death… or being forced out of bounds.”

  Adam nodded. “I know.”

  He smiled faintly. “But I’m not aiming for the top prize. I want third place.”

  Han Wuqing raised a brow. “Why third?”

  Adam’s eyes glinted. “Because the Granitsa’s Subspace Cube is useful—for me. With my memory manipulation ability, I could just put someone into a memory-induced coma, toss them inside, and walk away. I don’t need to kill anyone to win.”

  Han Wuqing stared at him, silent for a long moment.

  “…Huh.” A rare flicker of amusement touched his face. “You can be pretty smart when you want to be.”

  Adam gave him a shrug, as if to say, I have my moments.

  “And,” Adam added, “if there’s a position for disciples to help with healing, I want to join that as well. I can at least reduce casualties that way… if they’re still alive after the match.”

  Han Wuqing groaned and rubbed his face. “Now why would you…”

  He paused. Then sighed again, defeated.

  “…Well. Whatever. Do what you want. Who am I to go against your freedom?” His eyes narrowed slightly, but not in anger. “You’re the only

  one who’ll suffer for whatever stupidity you pull. That ridiculous rule of yours guarantees no one else will get dragged down with you.”

  Adam just grinned, saying nothing.

  Han Wuqing turned away and muttered under his breath, “Stubbornly stupid and weirdly moral… The heavens really do have a sense of humor.”