Outside the Ancestral Mountain, a formidable formation array pulsed with ancient power.
Spiritual light shimmered across countless runes, circulating in endless loops.
Each pulse pressed against Han Tian Yi’s body like invisible chains, testing him, weighing him, probing his cultivation foundation. He remained motionless, breathing slow, mind calm, allowing his spiritual sense to flow along the edges of the array, feeling its intricate rhythm.
Minutes passed.
Then the formation trembled. The faintly glowing runes dimmed, and a narrow path opened, winding upward through the mist.
Han Tian Yi stepped forward, each footfall measured, alert to the condensed spiritual energy that radiated from the array.
A sudden burst of laughter shattered the quiet road, wild and untamed.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! So you are the descendant with the Cursed Body Constitution?”
A towering figure appeared from the mists, moving like a coiling dragon.
His eyes were sharp, radiating a demonic aura as he circled Han Tian Yi, judging him with the precision of one who had seen centuries of cultivators rise and fall.
“Greetings, Great Ancestor Han Shin Tao.”
Han Tian Yi said, bowing with proper respect, his spiritual sense subtly flowing through his meridians to stabilize his body under the oppressive aura.
“HAHAHAHA! Do not be so formal!”
Han Shin Tao’s voice thundered.
“Call me Grandfather, is that understood?~”
Han Tian Yi’s eyes flickered.
This was the demonic ancestor, the one whose cultivation path had once drenched the mortal and immortal realms alike in blood. He had expected a powerful, imposing youth, brimming with demonic energy… yet before him stood a composed young man, movements precise, aura calm, every action restrained.
Han Shin Tao narrowed his eyes.
Is the record true? The Cursed Body Constitution… yet he moves with the composure of a seasoned cultivator. How… clever. How polite…
“How could I act otherwise, Great Ancestor? You are one of my role model.”
Han Tian Yi said, voice soft but firm, humility laced with reverence, as though honoring the man before him not as a relative, but as a master of life and death.
Han Shin Tao threw back his head and laughed, the sound rolling over the mountains like thunder.
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“Ah! So you truly understand how to speak with care…” His eyes glittered with amusement. “From this moment onward, call me Grandfather.”
“Yes… G-Grandfather.” Han Tian Yi replied, bowing once more, pretending to be flustered young man.
“Excellent! HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
The laughter shook the air.
The mist swirled around them, and even the mountain seemed to lean closer to witness the meeting.
From a distance, the youth and the ancestor could have been mistaken for brothers, so alike was the composure and poise between them.
They walked toward the pavilion, and Han Shin Tao peppered him with questions. Han Tian Yi answered each one calmly. Only giving vague answers.
When they reached the discussion hall, the four remaining ancestors were already seated. Spiritual pressure rolled off them in thick waves, pressing against Han Tian Yi’s chest, testing his foundation, probing his resolve. Even at the threshold, his dantian throbbed under the invisible weight.
Han Tian Yi bowed deeply.
“Greetings, Great Ancestors. I am called Han Tian Yi.”
His voice was calm, steady.
Inside, however, his meridians flared with tension—Han Yaoyao’s probing spiritual energy had already swept the room, brushing his foundation, testing his limits. A single misstep, a slight falter, and he would be seen as unworthy.
He could not allow it.
“Enough, Yaoyao.” Han He Ling’s commanding voice resounded. “You might kill the child if you continue.”
The pressure eased slightly as she withdrew, muttering a soft, “Hmph!”
Han Tian Yi bowed again. “Thank you for your mercy, Great Ancestor, Fairy Yaoyao.”
The word ‘Fairy’ lingered on purpose, causing the eternal child to flush slightly.
Because of her constitution, no one called her a fairy before.
“I greet, Grandfather.” he said to Han Tian Long.
“I greet, Great-Grandmother.” he said to Fairy Han Tie.
“I greet the Great Ancestor.” he said to Han He Ling.
Having already greeted Han Shin Tao, he did not repeat it.
Han He Ling’s lips curved faintly. “Hohoho, such a respectful child. Come, sit.”
Spiritual energy condensed beneath him, forming a chair of pure spiritual energy. Han Tian Yi lowered himself onto it, his movements were elegant.
“Is it true that you actually know how to assimilate with the Dao, Tian Yi?” Han Shin Tao asked, blunt and direct.
“Yes, Grandfather.”
The other four ancestors exchanged subtle glances.
“Grandfather?”
Han Shin Tao laughed again. “I told him to call me Grandfather! After all, he's from my bloodline!”
It was indeed the truth.
Han Tian Yi descended from his bloodline.
Before the founder of the Han Clan passed away, he had two sons and one daughter. Han Shin Tao came from the line of the eldest son, who had become patriarch.
Meanwhile, Han He Ling, traced his line from the founder’s daughter and so did Han Yaoyao, Han He Ling’s granddaughter. Both of them were Tian Yi’s great-uncle and great-aunt.
Upon hearing Han Shin Tao's words, Han He Ling merely sighed, a trace of exasperation passing over his composed features.
Han Tian Long finally spoke. “Tell us how you become one with the Dao, Little Yi.”
Han Tian Yi inclined his head.
“Before I tell all the ancestors how to be one with the Dao, I will first share my understanding.”
His gaze swept slowly across the hall.
“The Dao is not a throne to be claimed, nor a power to be seized.
It is the law that allows all things to exist.
It is the circulation of spiritual energy, the flow of time, the transformation of cause into effect.
When we cultivate, we are not taking from the Dao. We are learning to exist without resisting it.
Every Dao—Sword, Flame, Life, Death—are not separate.
They are reflections of the same truth.
No one holds the whole Dao. Those who seem favored by Heaven… are not chosen. They are aligned. Those who suffer are not abandoned they are walking against the current.”
He inhaled slowly. The hall seemed to breathe with him.
“Now… I will tell you how one truly assimilates with the Dao.”
A phantom spiritual core materialized above his palm, glowing with faint light.
“All of you believe the spiritual core is the foundation. Once it shatters, the path ends.”
He lifted his hand, fingers trembling slightly.
“But the core is not your foundation, it is your cage.”
The phantom core pulsed, then shattered violently. Fragments of spiritual energy drifted and vanished.
“You condense spiritual energy, polish it, call it strength. But it is only a container. The Dao cannot fit in a container. To assimilate with the Dao, the core must be completely destroyed. Not cracked, not damaged—destroyed.”
The ancestors’ spiritual senses tingled. The air grew cold, heavy, as if a storm pressed down on them.
“When the core is shattered, everything is lost. Your cultivation, your lifespan, your protection. You are no longer a cultivator.
You are nothing.
And in that state, you must accept death.
The Heaven and Earth Tribulation is not a chance, it is the Dao’s fury, its test. It lashes at those who dare to control it. Only those who survive… are recognized by the Dao.
Only then may one walk beside it.”
His gaze met theirs, steady.
“This is why no one has reached the Dao God Realm. Not because it is impossible, but because no one dares destroy what they have spent their life building.
Cultivators fear death, but more than that, they fear becoming nothing before becoming everything.”
The hall fell into suffocating silence.
Even the ancestors, beings who had stood at the peak of the Saint Realm for countless years felt the weight of that truth for the first time.
To shatter one’s core was not cultivation. It was a gamble with existence itself.
Advance and risk annihilation.
Hesitate and remain forever at the Pinnacle of the Saint Realm.
For the first time in centuries, the Han Clan’s elders tasted...
Fear.
