After what felt like an eternity to Yun Che, he finally began to steady his turbulent thoughts. Slowly, painstakingly, he tried once again to gaze upon the divine sword embedded within the world inside his profound veins. Yet each time, the result was the same—an excruciating, soul-piercing pain that tore through him without mercy. It was unbearable, and in the end, he was forced to give up.
"Well of Samsara… the plane beyond death…" Yun Che murmured under his breath, the words rolling from his lips like a sacred chant. "Well of Samsara… Mirror of Samsara…!"
A flicker of realization struck him like lightning.
In an instant, Yun Che extended his will, and a mirror slowly rose into the air before him- It felt… warm.
For a reason he could not explain, it held a faint, almost familiar warmth.
But no matter how deeply he searched his memories, how hard he tried to summon some forgotten connection—it escaped him. He could not understand. He could not grasp the truth. His knowledge of this world, of its deepest secrets, was too shallow.
Then it struck him—his understanding of the Abyss, they were all based on conjecture, on scattered knowledge he had gleaned through Meng Jianxi's reports and his own fragmented understanding.
But that wasn't enough anymore.
He needed more than theories.
He needed truth.
And if there was anyone who had truly walked the divine path and touched the core secrets of the Abyss—it was a True God.
Dian Rahu.
He was once a god who walked this world at its highest peak. Surely, he would know. Surely, there would be answers buried deep within his soul.
Without hesitation, Yun Che raised his hand.
With a flick of his fingers, a dense crystal—pulsing with abyssal energy—rose into the air before him. Inside it, sealed and perfectly preserved, was the Divine Soul of Dian Rahu.
Its presence was oppressive, heavy with divine remnants.
"Bang!" The crystal shattered as a weak soul burst forth.
"Ugh…" The soul groaned in pain as it made contact with the dense abyssal dust. While inside the crystal, the dust had not devoured him—only kept his soul frozen and trapped. But now, the moment the soul comes to the outside world, the abyssal dust, it sensed this "life," it surged forth, eager to consume him.
Yet through the pain, Yun Che noticed a cruel smile forming on the soul's face.
…
With a wave of Yun Che's hand, the abyssal dust receded, granting space to both the man and the soul. As the dust pulled away, a flicker of panic crossed the soul's face—only to vanish as it quickly regained composure and shouted.
"Hahaha… You damn Meng Jianyuan! Just wait, the Abyssal Monarch will come and kill you! Hahahah!"
"You'll die without even a complete corpse!" Dian Rahu's soul immediately taunted Yun Che.
Yun Che's brows tightened.
"UGHHH!!!"
Ignoring the taunts, Yun Che activated his soul search technique on the weakened divine soul. He had prepared for resistance—but perhaps due to its severely weakened state, the search passed through effortlessly.
"UGH…!!!"
Dian Rahu groaned in agony as Yun Che forcefully pried open every secret buried within. The soul writhed in pain, but could do nothing until the search ended. When Yun Che finally withdrew, locking the soul in place with his profound energy, it was so drained it couldn't even scream. Frozen in place, it simply hovered there in silence.
"Nothing… on the Well of Samsara…" Yun Che murmured. Unfortunately, even the gods seemed to know nothing of such a place. Yet he was certain it existed—that realm beyond death, a fragment of the ancient era.
"The Ancient True Gods should know about it!"
His mind raced, threads of speculation weaving into something clearer. His eyes flickered with darkness as he settled on his next move.
With a wave of his hand, the frozen soul was once again swallowed by dense abyssal dust.
"You want to revive? Hahaha, not a chance!"
Through the soul search, he had uncovered the secrets the gods tried to keep hidden. No wonder Dian Rahu's soul felt far weaker than expected—its divinity had already returned to the Pure Land. What remained was no longer a God soul, but a mere Divine Limit Realm soul—one Yun Che could crush with ease.But he won't and never will!
But still… he had been this close to disaster. If he had destroyed Dian Rahu's soul completely, the rebirth might have succeeded. That kind of revival—built on the sacrifice of the soul—required nothing to remain. But now… now that a piece of it was preserved under his control, the rebirth would never succeed!
"As long as even the tiniest shred of your soul remains in the outside world… you will never return!"
Yun Che's expression was cold, but his heart was still heavy with the weight of what almost happened. Slowly, he stepped into the Primordial Profound Ark, bracing himself—preparing to face his daughter… and Xia Qingyue.
Yet just as he entered, far away in the depths of the Endless Fog—millions of miles deeper—a distant space trembled. A flash of dark light surged through the mist. Had Yun Che extended his divine senses even slightly… he might have sensed it. He might have seen the pitiful figure, wounded and ragged, dragging themselves through a crack in space.
But he didn't.
Because Yun Che firmly believed no one else could possibly reach the forbidden depths of the Endless Fog. And so, he saw nothing.
---------
"Crack… Bang!!!"
Deep within the Pure Land, inside an ancient hall where profound energy gathered like a roaring sea, the void tore apart—ripped open with a violent shudder. A figure was hurled out, crashing hard onto the stone floor.
"Cough… cough… urgh—puke!!"
Blood splattered across the ancient tiles as the man convulsed, his body trembling uncontrollably. His right arm was entirely corroded—devoured by abyssal dust so dense it seemed to pulse with malevolent life. The corruption was still spreading, gnawing into his flesh.
"Bang!"
A moment later, another figure emerged from the shattered void. Unlike the first, this one was not flesh and blood. It was a being entirely formed of condensed profound energy—an outline of shadow shaped into a humanoid form, pulsing with dark light. Every inch of it radiated cold pressure.
The figure walked to the fallen man, its steps slow but weighty.
"You were reckless. You could've died."
Its voice was deep and resonant, like thunder wrapped in shadow.
The man on the ground gritted his teeth, barely able to lift his head.
"Huff… Huff… I thought… I had a chance…" he gasped between ragged breaths, his eyes filled with unwilling and stubbornness.
Without hesitation, he summoned his power, and a jagged blade of energy formed in his remaining hand. With a fierce cry, he brought it down—slicing off the entire corrupted arm. The severed limb fell to the ground with a sickening thud, twitching as abyssal dust hissed from the cut off arm.
He clenched his teeth through the agony, his body drenched in sweat.
Moments later, brilliant profound energy surged from within him, concentrating at the shoulder. The torn flesh quivered, and slowly—inch by inch—a new arm began to regenerate, glowing faintly as it took shape.
Time passed.
Within an hour, the arm was whole once more, smooth and unblemished, as if the corruption had never touched him.
Looking at the man before him, the figure in black could only shake his head slowly.
"This time… I used too much power. I'll need time to recover. Even the opening of the passage to the Eternal Blessed Land may be delayed," he said, his voice fading into the shadows as his form dissolved and vanished into the void.
The man, whose arm had just been restored, remained silent for a moment, then slowly steadied his breath and rose from the ground. His eyes burned with quiet intensity.
"Yun Che… your growth is monstrous."
"But it's still not enough."
"You must become stronger… only you can reach that place!"
With heavy steps, he walked forward and seated himself on a grand obsidian throne, carved with ancient runes that pulsed with abyssal light. As he sat, the oppressive aura of a monarch returned to his body—cold, vast, and sovereign.
He was none other than the mighty Abyssal Monarch, Mo Su.
Earlier, he had used a forbidden Heavenly Treasure to spy on Yun Che from across the Endless Fog. Thanks to the treasure's concealment and his immeasurably high cultivation plane, Yun Che had never sensed his presence.
From the very beginning—long before Yun Che was ever "kidnapped" into the Pure Land—Mo Su had already begun to suspect that Yun Che wasn't truly from the Abyss. The way he carried himself, the faint traces in his aura… everything pointed to one conclusion: he came from the God Realm.
That suspicion turned to certainty when the Heavenly Treasure informed him that Yun Che's aura had briefly vanished within the Pure Land… only to return moments later, now carrying the unmistakable scent of the Endless Fog Sea.
That day, Mo Su had wanted to speak with him—to say that it was fine, that he understood. There were so many things he wished to ask. But before he could… Yun Che was taken.
After bidding farewell to the gods and his four High Priests, Mo Su silently activated the Heavenly Treasure and crossed the vast Abyss. With its power, and his own unfathomable cultivation, he slipped into the Endless Fog Sea unnoticed by any will or sense.
Though they hailed from different worlds, Mo Su felt genuine concern for Yun Che's safety. Afterall, he is his big brother's inheritor.
And then… within the vast expanse of the Endless Fog, where even his divine sense extended close to hundreds of millions of miles…
He found Yun Che.
And what he saw stunned him— Yun Che… was controlling the abyssal dust.
Yun Che's ability to control the abyssal dust was even more flawless than Xia Qingyue's. It was in that moment that Mo Su's eyes widened with shock—
Yun Che… was the Fog Monarch himself.
Realizing the truth, Mo Su quietly devised a plan as he observed Yun Che's every move. Over time, his understanding deepened. Yun Che indeed possessed the power to command the abyssal dust, but his current cultivation was still far too low. He could not reach the true depths of the fog—not that place.
The place that held the essence of all creation.
So, Mo Su began to plot.
He would push Yun Che. Shape him. Create opportunities for him to grow stronger—strong enough to reach that place, to awaken what no being had touched since the ancient era.
From the very beginning, Yun Che had been under Mo Su's silent gaze.
But as Yun Che's strength soared, so too did his mastery over the abyssal dust. The stronger he became, the harder it was for Mo Su to follow him. The abyssal dust itself began to shield him from even Mo Su's divine senses.
Then today after he found a trace of Yun Che aura, he quickly came and at that time, he saw the blinding light—that moment when a connection formed between Yun Che and that place. Mo Su, sensing his one chance, rushed forward with everything he had. He didn't care what that light was, all he cared about was this opportunity!
The light even weakens the surrounding Abyssal Dust!
But he had overestimated his luck. After travelling close to billions of miles, the light suddenly receded.
As the divine light from the mirror receded, a torrent of corrosion erupted in its wake—so fierce and overwhelming that even he, a being infinitely close to the Creation God Realm, was feeling it corrosion at fastest speed.
Clutching his mutilated arm, drenched in abyssal decay, Mo Su could only grit his teeth in bitter frustration.
He had lost this round.
With no other choice, he too retreated—hiding himself in a secluded space just millions of miles from Yun Che's location. He dared not draw closer. He had to move slowly, cautiously, fearful that Yun Che might sense him. If that happened, everything would collapse. His entire plan would be ruined.
Only after witnessing Yun Che vanish did he finally turn back, returning to the Pure Land—guided by the spirit of the Heavenly Treasure… and the bitter sting of undeniable defeat.
Still, he began shaping his next plan.
No matter who they were… no matter what they were… they were nothing more than chess pieces on his board.
As long as she could return—
As long as she could truly stand by his side once more—
Then the sacrifice of everything…
would be worth it.
----------
Inside the Pure Land, the group led by High Priest Wan Dao was brought before a grand and sacred hall—one rarely seen by mortal eyes. The air was thick with an ancient, reverent aura, and towering divine statues lined the walls, each emanating a solemn, eternal presence.
This was no ordinary place.
It was a forbidden sanctuary—a domain where only the gods themselves were permitted to tread. And yet now, a group of chosen few had been granted the right to step into its hallowed confines.
Their footsteps echoed softly against the polished stone as they entered, silence falling over them like a divine decree. The pressure in the air made it difficult to breathe, and the deeper they walked, the heavier their hearts became.
Then, their gazes were pulled toward one statue in particular—a majestic, awe-inspiring figure wreathed in radiant light.
As the brilliant glow washed over them, their eyes widened, and their pupils contracted in unison. The power… the aura… there was no mistaking it.
God Source.
It was the God Source of their fallen Lord.
An overwhelming wave of reverence, grief, and longing surged through the room. Some lowered their heads, others clenched their fists, and a few struggled to hold back tears. The presence of the God Source stirred not just memories—but the very essence of their faith.
"Stay," High Priest Wan Dao said firmly, raising a hand to halt the group. He gestured for everyone to sit in respectful silence, his expression unreadable beneath the weight of duty.
Around them, more figures began to gather.
It wasn't just the Boundless Divine Kingdom.
Gods, elders, and Divine Children from other Divine Kingdoms were arriving—each one bearing the heavy dignity of their title. Representatives from nearly every realm that had been granted access to the Pure Land Meeting were now present in this sacred space.
All… except for one.
The Lightless Divine Regent was absent.
But even in her absence, the atmosphere remained charged. This was no mere meeting. This was a gathering of powers at the peak of the divine realms, called to witness something that had not occurred in countless ages.
The sacred hall was now filled with figures who, under normal circumstances, would never be permitted to step foot in such a divine place.
And yet, the High Priests had not stopped them. In fact, they had welcomed them—openly and without hesitation. Some even found themselves enjoying a slice of the famed celestial cake baked by none other than High Priest Six Laughs (Liu Xiao), who greeted each guest with his signature cheerful grin, as if this were a grand festival rather than a solemn rite.
Gods stood tall and composed. Elders whispered in hushed tones. Even the youngest Divine Children, normally kept at a respectful distance, were allowed to sit close, their eyes wide with anticipation.
A rare and sacred event was about to unfold.
A once-in-a-lifetime chance… to witness the rebirth of a God.
Such an opportunity was almost mythical. Even among gods, rebirth was a phenomenon veiled in mystery and doubt. The process could take decade… perhaps two. And even then, the chances of failure were still there.
But none of that dulled the spark in their eyes.
When High Priest Wan Dao raised his hand, silence rippled across the room. The God Source—glowing with divine brilliance—descended slowly, landing gently in his palm. It pulsed with life, ancient and pure.
The eyes of those from the Boundless Divine Kingdom shimmered with hope and unwavering expectation. This was their Lord—their faith, their foundation. They believed, with all their hearts, that the revival would succeed. Many had already resolved to remain here, camping outside the hall for as long as it took—until their Lord completed the rebirth and returned to the world.
And truth be told, they weren't alone. Even among those from other Divine Kingdoms, the same thought was beginning to take root. If the High Priests didn't drive them out, they too would stay—witnesses to a miracle that may never come again.
But within the crowd of Boundless Divine Kingdom members, there was one whose expression differed from the rest.
Hidden behind reverence and solemnity… a flicker of madness burned in his eyes. As his gaze locked onto the God Source cradled in High Priest Wan Dao's hand, that madness began to twist—growing more volatile by the second. It was the kind of madness that had been simmering, festering, and was now on the verge of eruption.
High Priest Wan Dao's gaze swept calmly across the room, his tone laced with quiet authority.
"I trust I don't need to remind anyone how to behave."
Then—with a snap of his fingers—the formation around the hall surged to life. Brilliant golden light erupted, cascading across the chamber as ancient seals ignited in the air, locking the space in a sacred web of divine power.
The ceremony… was about to begin.
"Bang… Bang… Bang… Bang!!!"
Within the radiant formation, High Priest Wan Dao dropped one Divine Abyssal Stone after another. Each one struck the ground with a deep, echoing thud, fusing into the array in a pulse of light. These were the sacred stones given as payment by the Boundless Divine Kingdom—for the sole purpose of resurrecting their fallen Lord.
After placing the final stone, he dusted off his hands and nodded slightly.
"That should be enough," he said, stepping back to observe the array. The moment the last stone settled, the formation surged—the brilliant light rising even higher, casting divine shadows across the ancient hall.
But amidst the awe, a questioning voice broke the silence.
"Why… is he only using a few of them?"
An elder from the Boundless Divine Kingdom frowned, eyes narrowing as he realized only a small portion of the Divine Stones had been used.
"..."
The words hung in the air, and slowly, one by one, the others began to realize the same thing.
Their heads turned—first toward the High Priest, then toward each other—expressions stiffening with the same bitter truth.
"We've been conned…"
The realization struck like cold iron. Their hearts ached—not just from the loss of their sacred resources, but from the sting of being outplayed so easily.
Still, what could they do?
They could only offer bitter smiles, shaking their heads in resignation. Deep down, they understood. The High Priest wasn't being greedy. He was being pragmatic. Even a figure of his stature wouldn't waste excess divine resources unless absolutely necessary.
At the end of the day… they had no one to blame but themselves.