Every joint in his body emitted a cracking sound, enduring the burden of a shifting reality that seemed intent on rending flesh from bone. Suddenly, the pressure vanished.

  BOOM!

  The Seven Star Boat shot out of the spatial rift at a terrifying speed, slamming into a thick expanse of clouds before finally slowing to a stable hover. The fresh yet sharp scent of air immediately rushed into Zhi Xuan’s lungs—the scent of the Yao Gu Plains.

  The sky above was no longer a cracked mirror, but a vast blue horizon with a sun radiating true warmth, no longer a manifestation of oppressive laws. Zhi Xuan spat a clump of thick blood onto the boat's floor, his face deathly pale, yet his eyes flashed with a sharpness never seen before.

  He stared at his palm; the meridian lines there now appeared deeper, flowing with energy that was a harmonious yet lethal fusion of the four seasons and ancient blood.

  "We... have returned," Zhi Xuan whispered, his voice raspy but carrying an authority capable of vibrating the surrounding air.

  The silence that had once suffocated him gradually faded, replaced by the low roar of energy in the dense atmosphere of the Yao Gu Plains. Zhi Xuan stood with the remaining strength he squeezed from his marrow, looking toward the horizon where dozens of pillars of light shot out from different spatial rifts.

  These were the remaining geniuses. Some descended back to the Square of Holy Light; many fell prostrate upon the marble floor, gasping for air as if they had just crawled out of their own internal graves.

  Zhi Xuan turned slowly, his neck feeling as stiff as rusted iron. There, atop an elegantly floating jade palanquin, the figure of Yan Fenghuang stood tall. Although his flaming golden robes appeared torn in several places and his countenance betrayed immense exhaustion, his Heavenly Eye still flashed sharply—though this time, a trace of gloom was hidden behind the glow of his fire.

  Not far away, Ye Ming appeared with a mountain-like aura that now felt heavier and more silent. He gave a slight nod toward Zhi Xuan, a silent acknowledgment between men who had tasted their respective internal hells. However, Zhi Xuan’s attention was quickly diverted by the weakening toll of a bell.

  The Eighth Prince of the Empire, previously so arrogant, now sat cross-legged atop his carriage which had lost its grandeur. His face was deathly pale, and the Immortal Seven-God Bell hovering beside him appeared dimmed, as if it had lost half of its divinity. The Great Saint was right; even an Immortal treasure could not mend a Dao Heart cracked by one's own soul mirror.

  "Seventy days within the Dao mirror, and only a handful truly brought home enlightenment," Zhi Xuan muttered coldly.

  Zhi Xuan shot downward, causing the marble of the square to momentarily emit a faint spiritual wave; the weight of Zhi Xuan’s foundation was now increasingly dense, as if he were one of the geniuses from the three plains who had returned with grand enlightenment.

  The sound of Zhi Xuan’s footsteps touching the marble surface of the Square of Holy Light was no longer a mortal tap, but a low-frequency thud that vibrated the spiritual foundation of the place. The white marble, reinforced by high-level formations, seemed to groan, emitting ripples of golden light that attempted to neutralize the heavy aura brought by the silver-haired youth.

  He immediately dropped into a cross-legged position, regardless of his surroundings. He tapped his waist and produced a small jade bottle containing dew from an ancient peach tree, a gift from Hua Lian Xi. Without hesitation, Zhi Xuan raised the jade bottle to his mouth, swallowing the drops of dew to calm his soul, which had been in turmoil since the Sacred Heaven Secret Realm.

  The ancient peach dew flowed down his throat like a clear, icy river, bringing a cooling sensation that instantly extinguished the fires of unrest within his meridians. Zhi Xuan closed his eyes, letting the pure energy from the Holy Daughter's gift wash through every inch of his fractured energy channels.

  A thin white mist began to rise from his skin, carrying with it the remnants of the scent of ash from the Nine-Level Pagoda and the deathly chill of Winter. Around him, the Square of Holy Light bore witness to the return of young dragons and phoenixes. The atmosphere was solemn yet tense; there were no cheers, only the scent of blood and cold sweat from those who had just gambled their lives against themselves.

  Suddenly, light yet authoritative footsteps approached him. Zhi Xuan did not open his eyes, but his spiritual senses caught the presence of figures he recognized well: the Holy Sons and Holy Daughter alongside an Imperial Elder.

  "Seventy days, seventy years of internal wandering, and you return carrying majesty upon your shoulders, Zhi Xuan," the voice was soft yet commanding, coming from the Imperial Elder who now stood a few paces before him.

  Zhi Xuan regulated his heavy breathing, forcing the Heavenly Samsara Wheel to spin in a smoother rhythm. He slowly opened his eyelids; the sapphire glow in his eyes now appeared deeper, containing a calm darkness and a mysterious flash of silver light.

  "Imperial Elder," Zhi Xuan replied with a faint nod. He looked at Zhu Yanghai, Hua Tianming, and Hua Lian Xi, who stood near the Elder.

  Zhu Yanghai was the first to step forward, his face showing a mix of relief and uncertainty. "I'm glad you're back, brother-in-law!"

  Zhu Yanghai took a long stride, ignoring imperial protocol to ensure the youth before him still possessed a complete pulse of life. Beside him, Hua Tianming stood with arms crossed, his sharp eyes scrutinizing every inch of change in Zhi Xuan.

  Meanwhile, Hua Lian Xi remained silent, her fingers interlaced in front of her chest. Her gaze held both tenderness and a touch of dread as she saw Zhi Xuan’s silver hair, which now truly radiated an alien gray glow.

  "Seventy years," Zhu Yanghai continued calmly. He moved his hand and produced a Divine Black Jade Stone. "Absorb it. Only you, Ling Huo, and Ye Ming are left."

  Zhi Xuan accepted it, shattering the Divine Black Jade Stone, which immediately created a mist of essence that made Zhi Xuan's body feel light. He closed his eyes for a moment, absorbing the soothing jade essence. However, the statement that only he, Ling Huo, and Ye Ming remained made him furrow his brow and reopen his eyes.

  "Holy Son Zhu, what do you mean by that?" Zhi Xuan asked with a curious gaze. "Liu Feng and the Eighth Prince—did they not succeed?"

  Zhu Yanghai went silent for a moment, his sigh feeling heavy as if carrying a burden of thousands of catties of celestial material. He glanced toward the square where the Eighth Prince was being supported by eunuchs, his body shaking violently. Then his gaze shifted to the figure of Liu Feng, who sat brooding with a hollow stare, as if his soul were still left behind in the labyrinth of illusions.

  "Succeeding in getting out does not mean succeeding in conquering, Zhi Xuan," Zhu Yanghai answered in a low tone fraught with bitterness. "Physically they are here, but their Dao Hearts are cracked. Liu Feng... he is trapped in an endless cycle of regret; his meridians are half-shattered because he tried to force his will upon laws he did not understand. As for the Eighth Prince, his Seven-God Bell saved his body, but he lost the courage to step any further. For him, the path of cultivation has become a nightmare."

  Zhi Xuan listened intently, feeling a cold shiver creep along his spine. He remembered the Nine-Level Pagoda and the shadow of the Emperor at the edge of the river of time; if he had hesitated for even a moment or allowed fear to take hold, he too might have ended up with the same hollow stare as Liu Feng.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Zhi Xuan turned his gaze toward Liu Feng. The wind genius, usually agile and unpredictable, now looked like a dried leaf detached from its branch; his body was present, but his aura was empty.

  The realization made Zhi Xuan tighten his hold on Mei Hua. In this cruel world of cultivators, the distance between being a soaring dragon and a crushed worm was separated only by a thread of determination.

  "A cracked Dao Heart..." Zhi Xuan hissed, his voice as cold as ice on a mountain peak. "That Secret Realm did not test physical strength; it dissected the truths most hidden by the soul. They were not defeated by natural laws; they were defeated by themselves."

  Hua Tianming stepped forward, his golden robes billowing as he stood beside Zhu Yanghai. His sharp eyes locked onto Zhi Xuan’s sapphire eyes, as if wanting to pierce the veil of sapphire glow enveloping the youth's pupils. "Do not think too much of them, Zhi Xuan. The Xing Luo Plains never lacks geniuses, but it always lacks complete winners. You, Ling Huo, and Ye Ming are the remaining embers that will determine our dignity in the next round."

  Hua Lian Xi approached with steps as smooth as a sweep of night wind. She stared at Zhi Xuan’s silver hair with an unreadable expression—there was gratitude that the youth was safe, but also anxiety seeing the alien aura now residing within Zhi Xuan’s blood.

  "The peach dew bottle... you finished it?" Hua Lian Xi asked softly, her voice trembling slightly. "I can feel the life essence within you warring with something very ancient. Zhi Xuan, what exactly did you encounter in the deepest level of the Secret Realm?"

  "I merely encountered the end of a season," Zhi Xuan replied in a flat tone that left no room for further questions. "And attained the enlightenment of Man-Sword Unity, along with an advancement in my Dao."

  He turned toward the Imperial Elder, who still stood motionless with eyes closed, as if communicating with a higher entity. "Elder, what comes next? I mean, only I, Ling Huo, and Ye Ming remain."

  Zhi Xuan shifted his gaze toward Mu Chen and the four other geniuses from the Yao Gu Plains who showed success; even the Laws they possessed appeared increasingly dense, as if they had met no failure at all. Meanwhile, from the Feng Mie Plains, Yan Fenghuang along with three other comrades found success, while one other met failure.

  He turned his gaze back to the Imperial Elder. "The second stage must be a test in the center of the arena. The 'bait strategy' intended for five geniuses has now vanished, leaving only the three of us."

  The Imperial Elder slowly opened his eyelids, revealing a pair of clouded pupils that radiated wisdom as deep as an ancient ocean. He looked sadly toward the fading pillars of light on the horizon, then shifted his gaze to Zhi Xuan, Ling Huo, and Ye Ming, who stood like reefs amidst a storm.

  "The bait strategy has indeed broken along with the cracking of your comrades' Dao Hearts," the Imperial Elder's voice echoed, heavy and authoritative, cutting through the spiritual clamor on the square. "However, destiny is not a rigid chessboard. When two pieces fall, the remaining piece must transform into a king capable of cleaving the enemy's lines."

  He flicked his wide robe sleeves, and instantly a massive jade scroll unfurled in the air, displaying a map of the arena that would be the silent witness to the next bloodshed.

  "The second stage," the Elder continued, "is the final stage. Every test has changed based on the agreement of the three Plains. Sage Qing, I, and the Feng Mie Elder have decided to place the Heavenly Night Rain Bell."

  "You will not fight the other geniuses, thus reducing the losses incurred," the Imperial Elder continued, pointing to a bell emblem in the center. "Every strike will receive a counter-attack. Previously, the Yao Gu Plains was the winner in this stage, with sixteen bell strikes."

  Ling Huo and Ye Ming, who had previously stayed back, now shot forward to approach, sitting beside Zhi Xuan in a cross-legged position. Their faces showed a heat that carried vengeance; seeing their comrades eliminated by the Dao mirror, even their first stage had suffered a loss.

  "The Heavenly Night Rain Bell..." Ye Ming murmured, his voice as heavy as a mountain rockfall. He clenched his rough hands, spiritual dust falling from between them. "A test of counter-attacks. The greater the ambition we strike with, the greater the destruction that will befall our own bodies."

  Ling Huo snorted, her red hair strands flaring along with the surge of anger in her eyes. "Sixteen strikes? Only sixteen and they're already proud? If the Yao Gu Plains could reach that, then we must shatter their record into pieces. I will not let Liu Feng's failure be in vain."

  Zhi Xuan remained calm, his eyes staring sharply at the visualization of the bell on the jade scroll. "Elder, does this mean the second stage is purely about physical endurance and the purity of the Dao Heart? Whoever can withstand the most shocks will be the one to bring home the Plains' dignity?"

  The Imperial Elder nodded slowly. "Correct, Zhi Xuan. However, the Heavenly Night Rain Bell does not only retaliate with physical force. It retaliates with soul tremors. Every toll will strike your soul. If your soul is not stable, a single strike could make you suffer eternal madness."

  Zhu Yanghai furrowed his brow, approaching and whispering beside Zhi Xuan. "Brother-in-law, you just emerged in the most unstable condition among them. Are you sure you can withstand the soul tremors of that bell?"

  Zhi Xuan smirked slightly, a smile that did not reach his eyes. "Instability is another form of power that has yet to be tamed. Do not worry, Holy Son Zhu. If that bell wishes to collapse my soul, it will only find that I have swallowed everything that was meant to be my downfall."

  "How arrogant," a cold voice cut through their conversation.

  Mu Chen stepped closer. Behind him, the four other geniuses followed with threatening auras. "Brother Zhi Xuan, we meet again."

  Zhi Xuan rose, standing tall and clasping his hands in a faint nod. "Brother Mu Chen, we meet again."

  Mu Chen did not return the nod, but instead gave a look of superiority. "Brother Zhi Xuan here was perhaps lucky to emerge from the Dao mirror with a whole Heart."

  On the other side, one of the geniuses behind him spoke in a calm tone, but implied a subtle insult. "But the Night Rain Bell is no place for luck. It is where true talent is tested."

  "The Xing Luo Plains has already lost two people. Wouldn't it be better if you withdrew now before your Dao Hearts are completely shattered?" snapped another genius, his face radiating a calm dominance, as if there was no competition when they looked at the Xing Luo envoys.

  Zhi Xuan raised the corner of his lips, a thin smirk laden with retaliatory contempt appearing on his pale face. "Luck? Brother Mu Chen, if you consider surviving a soul judgment as luck, then I fear your view of the cultivation path is too narrow."

  Ling Huo, beside Zhi Xuan, snorted loudly, red fire beginning to creep along her sleeves. "Your mouths are quite sharp for people who only rely on numbers. The competition is held on your land, but that doesn't mean you will be the winners!"

  Ye Ming also stood up, his sturdy body like a mountain pillar casting a shadow over the Yao Gu geniuses. "We lost comrades, that is true. However, a wounded tiger is far more dangerous than a dog barking in a pack."

  Mu Chen narrowed his eyes, a cold flash emanating from his pupils as he stared at Zhi Xuan. "A wounded tiger is still a creature heading toward its end. Brother Zhi Xuan, look at yourself. Are you sure you can deliver even a single strike to the Night Rain Bell without making your body explode?"

  Zhi Xuan took one step forward, causing the marble beneath his feet to crack finely. "Exploding or not, that is my business. However, I am quite curious... if sixteen strikes is your highest record, does that mean the limit of your heavens only goes that far?"

  He released a bit of his Half-Step Soul Transformation aura which he had been suppressing, shocking everyone there as they stared at Zhi Xuan's aura, which was now almost like a Soul Transformation expert, radiating an aura that momentarily suppressed the Five Element realm of Mu Chen and the startled Yao Gu geniuses.

  The air around Zhi Xuan suddenly froze, not because of the winter chill, but because of the density of the spiritual essence he intentionally released. Mu Chen gasped, his feet instinctively taking a half-step back as he felt a ripple of energy so pure yet chaotic hit his spiritual senses.

  "Half-Step to Soul Transformation?" Mu Chen hissed, his eyes widening in disbelief. "How is it possible? Someone who just emerged from the Dao Mirror should not have a realm enlightenment, but you... this aura... it makes no sense!"

  The Yao Gu genius behind Mu Chen, who had just been belittling him, now stood frozen. Their faces, previously full of triumph, turned deathly pale. The pressure Zhi Xuan radiated was not just the pressure of a cultivation realm, but the aura of someone who had swallowed the laws of nature into his own veins.

  Zhi Xuan casually brushed back his silver hair, even though every inch of his muscles still throbbed with pain. "Brother Mu Chen, the cultivation path indeed makes no sense to those who only walk beneath the Heavenly Laws. You ask if I'm sure I can strike that bell? I'm actually worried that you all won't be able to withstand my strike."

  "You are truly arrogant, Zhi Xuan!" barked one of the Yao Gu geniuses who possessed the earth element. "You bring the aura of death and darkness; the Night Rain Bell will crush you in the first toll!"

  Zhi Xuan turned toward the speaker, his sapphire gaze so sharp that the earth genius felt as though his soul were being pierced by thousands of ice needles. "If death is what that bell fears, then I am the demise that will knock upon its door."

  "My, my, look what's happening here?" Yan Fenghuang’s voice suddenly appeared as he walked with an oppressive stride. The Heavenly Eye that seemed to burn the square now appeared even stronger, proof of his overwhelming success.