By fusing a fragment of a True God's soul—preserved within the Divine Soul Hall of the Pure Land—with the Primordial Flame Stone and other Divine stones, the impossible could be made real. A True God could be reborn.
The fusion process itself was complex, requiring not only the perfect synchronization of divine energy but also a balance of power that only the most ancient beings could oversee. It was not instantaneous, nor was it without risk. The revival would take time—fifteen to twenty years—an eternity to mortals, but to those who had walked the path of divinity…
It was nothing.
At the end of that long process, the True God who had perished would return. Their body, their soul, their divine essence—all restored to perfection. Not a trace of death would remain. To the world, it would be as if they had never fallen in the first place.
And among the Gods, such a thing was neither a miracle nor a gamble. It's another chance at life! This process can only be done once!
It was inevitable.
"When Brother Rahu returns, we will know what happened then."
Both gods exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable.
And yet—within the depths of their eyes, there was no hesitation.
No uncertainty.
No fear.
Only absolute belief.
They nodded, no further words needed. Their understanding was shared in the silence between them.
To them, it was not a question of if Dian Rahu would return—
But when.
When the fusion and rebirth will be complete, when the god will emerge once more!
"So… how is my daughter-in-law doing?" Meng Kongchan suddenly shifted the conversation, his voice carrying a rare touch of warmth amid the heavy atmosphere.
For a moment, the weight of their previous discussion seemed to ease—if only slightly.
Since their fateful expedition into the Endless Fog Sea years ago, Meng Kongchan and Hua Fuchen had initially traveled together, their combined strength granting them some measure of safety against the unknown horrors lurking within. But in the face of the abyssal expanse that stretched endlessly before them, where time and space twisted beyond mortal comprehension, they had no choice but to split up.
The Endless Fog was not merely vast. It was a world beyond the lands of the living—a domain so unfathomably large that even the Gods, who ruled over the heavens, could not measure its true extent.
No records. No maps. No boundaries.
Only mist, shadow, and silence.
Even the oldest beings who had lived since the dawn of creation did not know its limits.
In the end, separating had been the only choice.
Hua Fuchen let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head as old memories surfaced. His voice was softer now, tinged with an emotion that even the passage of time had failed to erase.
"Back then… you knew how deeply my Caili loved your son."
A wry smile ghosted his lips, but there was no joy in it—only the echoes of heartache and helplessness.
"If not for the Abyssal Monarch's strict order to avoid reckless action… if not for the near-disaster that nearly claimed her life at the hands of the Qilin Beast and the Fog Monarch…"
His voice grew quieter, almost distant, as if recalling those moments pained him.
"Caili would have long, long ago thrown herself into the depths of the Fog Sea to search for him."
There was a pause, heavy with unspoken grief.
She would have followed him into the abyss, no matter the cost.
Because to her, there was no 'waiting.' No 'logic.' No 'restraint.'
Only love.
His voice carried a faint trace of helplessness. This love his daughter held… it was painful to witness. It burned too deeply, too fiercely, beyond reason or restraint. And yet, what could he do?
Fate was never truly in their hands.
Not even as the strongest beings in the world.
Not even as Gods.
They could command the heavens, sunder the earth, and wield powers beyond mortal imagination—yet, in the face of destiny, they were powerless. They had once believed otherwise. He and Hua Caili's mother had learned that lesson the hard way.
Meng Kongchan listened in silence. He felt touched, but more than that—he felt sorrow.
Yun Che—Meng Jianyuan—was not just his son. He was his greatest pride, his brightest hope, his deepest love.
Yet now, he was lost to the Endless Fog.
The very same Fog Sea that had swallowed countless beings, an unfathomable void where even Gods feared to tread. And despite their divine might, despite the boundless efforts of those who had joined the search, Yun Che remained unfound.
Even the Gods could not bring him back.
Sometimes… the heavens were too cruel.
Yun Che's talent had been unparalleled—a prodigy standing at the pinnacle of the Abyss itself. He had been meant to soar across the heavens, to carve a path that no one else could follow.
Yet before he could even truly rise—his fate had vanished into the unknown.
Meng Kongchan appeared to bear it well. His composure was unshaken, his voice steady, his presence unfaltering. But Hua Fuchen knew better.
He had known this man for far too long.
Deep down, Meng Kongchan was breaking.
He was a father first, before a God. And what father could endure this?
A heavy silence fell between them before Hua Fuchen finally spoke again, his expression darkening as another painful thought surfaced.
After a pause, he said, his voice thick with sincerity—
"I'm sorry… about the boy, Jianze."
Meng Kongchan's gaze flickered, his expression unreadable. A beat of silence passed before he finally responded.
"Don't be. He was an eyesore anyway."
He turned away as he spoke, his voice calm, indifferent— almost as if he truly didn't care.
But the slight tremor in his body betrayed him.
And though his face remained hidden from view, had one looked closely, they would have seen it—
The faint glistening mist gathering at the corner of his eyes, threatening to fall.
Hua Fuchen could only sigh in his heart.
This friend of his…
Even if Meng Kongchan had never truly seen Jianze as a good son, even if their relationship had been cold and distant, at the end of the day—he was still his flesh and blood.
And fate had shown no mercy.
Just when Jianze had finally begun to change, just when he had turned away from his selfish arrogance and started supporting his younger brother, Meng Jianyuan— he was taken. His life was cruelly stripped away, reduced to nothingness by the abyssal dust's corrosive force.
A fate more terrifying than mere death. Not even a trace of his existence had been left behind.
And as for Meng Jianyuan…
His most beloved son—the child who had carried all of Meng Kongchan's hopes and dreams—had been stolen away.
Taken by the Fog Monarch.
It was a loss that neither time nor power could erase.
But what made it all the more unbearable was that Meng Jianyuan was not just Meng Kongchan's son.
He was meant to be Hua Fuchen's son-in-law.
His daughter's future husband.
A bond once believed to be fated—woven by destiny itself—had instead unraveled into a living nightmare.
And now, Meng Jianyuan's fate remained unknown.
The only glimmer of hope lay in the revival of Dian Rahu.
Perhaps… perhaps when the strongest True God returned, he would have the answers they so desperately sought.
---------
As the Abyssal Monarch's decree was received, it spread across the Divine Kingdoms like a divine decree that could not be disobeyed. In that moment, there was no hesitation, no pride, and no arrogance.
All forces, from every Divine Kingdom and beyond, made the unanimous decision to retreat from the Endless Fog.
It did not matter who they were, what power they wielded, or where they stood in the grand hierarchy of the heavens.
They chose to leave.
Even the most battle-hardened warriors, those who had never once feared war, understood what this meant.
When the Fog Monarch had first manifested in the Pure Land—or anywhere beyond the Endless Fog—he had never appeared alone. Each time, without exception, he had been accompanied by the Abyssal Qilin God, its towering presence serving as an ominous display of power before the world.
This had happened more than once. More than twice. It had happened too many times.
And so, the world had come to a conclusion.
The conclusion that the Fog Monarch's strength, beyond his ability to control abyssal beasts and command abyssal dust, was likely not on par with the True Gods.
Perhaps he was powerful, but not absolute.
Perhaps he relied on the Qilin God to make up for his own limitations.
Perhaps, if they were prepared, the True Gods of the Six Divine Kingdoms could truly stand against him.
But Dian Rahu's death shattered those illusions into dust.
That single event had overturned everything they had once believed.
Now, there was no room for doubt.
The Fog Monarch was a being at the True God level.
A True God who did not just command the abyssal beasts, nor merely summon the abyssal dust—but one who could wield the Endless Fog itself.
A True God who could control the abyssal dust at will.
A True God who could manipulate the very sea of fog, bending it to his command.
A True God whose power could suppress and corrode profound energy, reducing even the mightiest beings to nothingness—
All while remaining completely unaffected.
Even for True Gods, such an existence was unfathomable.
And against such a being…
Even the strongest could only flee.
They wisely chose to retreat.
Yet, despite the mass withdrawal of all Divine Kingdom forces, one faction remained behind.
They did not hesitate. They did not waver.
And more than that—they did not simply stay.
They went to great lengths to conceal themselves, erasing every trace of their presence from the land, sky, and even the abyssal mist itself. No energy signatures. No disturbances. No clues left behind.
They had not heard the declaration from the Abyssal Monarch—nor had they ever expected to.
Because they were the Dragons.
And when their Lord gave an order, they followed without question.
No matter how absurd, reckless, or incomprehensible the command seemed—they obeyed.
Even if they did not understand the reasoning.
Even if the logic behind it was shrouded in secrecy.
Their duty was not to question. Their duty was to act.
And so, they moved with unshakable conviction, carrying out a task that no outsider could possibly comprehend.
Their mission was simple—yet beyond reason.
Escort Shen Wuyi.
To a certain place.
A place, that still borders the Endless Fog Sea.
The fog churned violently around them, thick and oppressive, its unseen weight pressing against their bodies like an invisible force. All around, abyssal beasts prowled in the shadows—twisted monstrosities born from the Abyss itself, their presence radiating a dark, corrosive energy.
Yet, for the Dragons, these creatures were nothing more than obstacles.
Most of them barely reached the Divine Master Realm, and at best, only a handful had stepped into the early stages of the Divine Extinction Realm. Compared to the overwhelming might of their kind, these abyssal beasts were hardly a threat.
They stood on the very border between the Ancestral Dragon Mountain Range and the Endless Fog Sea—a place where the two realms intertwined, where the mist bled into their sacred lands like a creeping tide.
Unlike the lands of the humans, where vast territories stretched far from the Abyss and entire kingdoms could exist without ever feeling its presence, the Dragons lived close to the endless veil of fog.
Too close.
It had always been that way. From the beginning of time, the Endless Fog had loomed at the edges of their domain—its presence ever-constant, its dangers ever-present.
For others, the Abyss's Endless Fog was a distant nightmare.
For the Dragons, it was always near.
--------
"Grand Elder... did the Lord really tell us to come here?"
A voice rang out, laced with unease. Though it was spoken softly, it carried across the silent mist like a ripple through still water.
The Grand Elder's expression remained impassive, though a flicker of irritation surfaced in his ancient eyes.
"If it weren't for the Lord's orders, why would I have brought you all here?"
His tone was sharp, carrying a weight that left no room for further questioning.
This was not the first time this question had been asked.
This man had repeated it again and again.
For weeks.
And still, despite all that had transpired—
Despite their unwavering loyalty—
None of them truly understood why they were here.
They had received no news.
No word of what had transpired with Divine Regent Dian Rahu.
No word of the battle.
No word of anything at all.
They were utterly cut off from the outside world—stranded in a realm of silence, with nothing but the suffocating mist and the weight of uncertainty pressing down upon them.
They waited. And waited. And waited.
By all logic, God Dian Rahu—a being whose might stood above all—should have already claimed victory.
With him leading the battle against the Abyssal Qilin God—and with their own Dragon Lord assisting him—slaying the Qilin should have been a simple task.
A matter of time.
And yet—weeks had passed.
Weeks, since they had been ordered to retreat from the battlefield.
Weeks, since they had been told to wait here, in the depths of the Endless Fog Sea.
The command had been given before the battle had even begun.
Before a single blow had been exchanged.
And now—
Their Lord had still not returned.
None of them knew.
None of them could have known.
That Dian Rahu had fallen.
That their "Lord" the one they followed with unwavering loyalty—had succumbed as well.
That his form had been twisted, his very existence corrupted beyond recognition.
That he was no longer the Dragon Lord they had sworn to follow—
But a monstrous Abyssal Beast.
Yet, in their ignorance, they still believed.
Still waited.
Still clung to the certainty that their Lord would return.
"It shouldn't be long now."
The Grand Elder broke the silence, his voice filled with conviction, his belief unshaken.
"We've been here for three weeks—the Lord should be arriving soon."
But no sooner had the words left his lips than the air around them shuddered.
A tremor rippled through the fog, spreading outward like a silent storm.
And then—
A draconic presence surged through the mist, vast and suffocating.
An ancient force awakening from the abyss, pressing against their souls like an unseen hand gripping their very essence.
It was powerful. Overwhelming.
"See! The Lord is coming!"
The Grand Elder of the Ancestral Dragon Clan exclaimed, his voice filled with conviction, his eyes flashing with unrestrained excitement.
At once, every dragon turned their gaze toward the direction he was looking.
And then—they felt it.
The unmistakable aura of their Lord.
Powerful. Overwhelming. Familiar.
Yet…
Something was wrong.
Deeply, terribly wrong.
Xia Qingyue, held firmly in the grasp of one of the Dragon Clan Elders, trembled slightly as her weary eyes flickered.
Bloodied and bruised, her body bore the marks of relentless torment. Her cultivation had been sealed, her profound energy forcibly suppressed, rendering her powerless. She was little more than a prisoner in their hands.
Yet at this moment—her gaze lifted.
Drawn by an unseen force, her violet eyes locked onto the direction of the approaching Dragon Lord.
Even in her weakened state, even through the haze of pain, she could feel it.
Something was wrong.
Deeply, terribly wrong.
Her affinity with the Abyssal Dust, while not on par with Yun Che's, still granted her an acute sensitivity to its movements—to its whispers, to the subtle shifts that others failed to notice.
And now—she sensed it before anyone else.
The presence flooding toward them was not right.
The closer their Lord came, the denser the Abyssal Dust became.
At first, the dragons thought it was mere residue, remnants of the Endless Fog that had clung to him as he passed through. But soon, they realized—this was no ordinary energy.
The Abyssal Dust wasn't lingering around him.
It was following him.
Swirling thick and oppressive in his wake, moving as if it were alive, as if his very presence commanded it. The fog itself seemed to bend and twist around him, coiling like a living thing, an unnatural storm heralding his arrival.
"Wait… that…!"
A voice broke the tense silence, laced with disbelief.
And then—
They saw it.
Their divine senses spread outward, scanning the mist, piercing through the dense fog—
And what they found sent an icy chill through their very souls.
A realization so terrifying, so impossible, so utterly devastating that their blood ran cold.
Their faces turned ashen.
Their bodies stiffened.
Their souls trembled in horror.
"ROARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!"
A deafening, abyssal roar shattered the oppressive silence. The very air trembled, the fog convulsed, and an invisible force crashed down upon them like a tidal wave of despair.
Then—it came.
Like a meteor streaking through the mist, the Abyssal Dragon Lord shot forward with unimaginable speed, its monstrous form tearing through the endless fog like a force of pure destruction.
And beside it—emerging from the abyssal shadows—the Abyssal Qilin.
A beast of pure nightmare, its corrupted body pulsing with a gray radiance, galloped forward like a deathless titan, its every step shaking the very fabric of space.
Their **Lord—**the being they had followed with unwavering faith—
Had become an Abyssal Beast.
The truth struck them like a divine calamity, sending shivers through their very souls. Horror twisted their features, but even as their minds screamed in denial—
Instinct took over.
"Run.....RUN!!!!!"
The desperate cry tore through the air.
Panic erupted.
The gathered dragons, once proud and fearless, turned on a desperate flight. Their bodies blurred into motion, streaking toward the edge of the Endless Fog with everything they had.
"The abyssal beasts cannot leave the Endless Fog! As long as we return to the Dragon Mountain Range, we'll be safe!" the elder roared, his voice booming with forced conviction.
Yet—even as the words left his mouth, a chilling realization struck him.
Three years ago...
The Fog Monarch had appeared in the Pure Land itself.
And he had brought the abyssal beasts with him.
For a split second, fear flashed through the elder's mind. If it had happened once, could it happen again?
He did not speak of it. He buried the thought deep within, suppressing the terror clawing at the edges of his mind.
The others needed hope.
If he let doubt take root, panic would consume them all.
Instead, he gritted his teeth, his divine energy surging as the abyssal beasts drew near.
"ROARRRRRR!!!!"
With a thunderous roar, the Grand Elder of the Ancestral Dragon Clantransformed.
His body expanded, bones twisting and stretching as scales like molten gold erupted across his skin. His dragon form burst forth, a majestic yet desperate sight as he unleashed a devastating blast of draconic energy toward the encroaching monsters.
But it was meaningless.
No matter how high his status—no matter that he stood as the Grand Elder of the Ancestral Dragon Clan—his strength was only at the peak of Level Eight Divine Limited Realm.
And against the two abyssal horrors before him—
Against the Abyssal Qilin God, standing at the very peak of the Divine Limited Realm—
Against the Abyssal Dragon Lord, at the early stage of Level Nine Limited Realm—
Both beings of which the body was pretty much indestructible...
He was nothing.