In the ancient immortal realm, the azure stone paths lay silent.
Three thousand ancient roads stretched hazily into the distance, with only Shi Hao seated in meditation, silently contemplating the profound truths.
After attaining enlightenment in one place, he would move to another, repeating this cycle for four months, tirelessly deciphering the ancient Great Dao.
Half a month later, he no longer sat in meditation but walked soundlessly along the stone steps, wholly immersed in his enlightenment.
The steps shimmered, many of the azure stones flickering with faint runes. He had forgotten everything else, moving like a mindless husk, ceaselessly pacing day and night, unable to stop.
Outside, observers watched with strange expressions.
What was he trying to achieve? To fully comprehend all three thousand azure stone paths? Impossible. The time was too short, too rushed. Even if he spent his entire life here, it wouldn’t be enough!
“He’s lost his mind,” someone sneered. “Look at him—dazed, lifeless, his eyes devoid of light, wandering aimlessly. If he keeps this up, his vitality will wither away.”
A True One expert from the Lion-Dragon Sect spoke coldly, his voice laced with mockery and hatred. Shi Hao had slain too many of their people, even costing them a Heavenly God.
“Even now, he hasn’t shown any special ancient flames to ignite himself and lay the foundation for divinity. He hasn’t even found his own path—just wandering like a mindless corpse. He’s on the verge of demonic possession. If he perishes like this, it’ll be a joke!”
Others from the Fire Cloud Cave laughed scornfully, watching Shi Hao walk endlessly without progress. He hadn’t even summoned an ordinary spirit flame, let alone a famed “immortal seed” or “ancient flame” renowned across the three thousand provinces.
“While others make breakthroughs and prepare for their perfect ascension, he remains lost and foolish, waiting to be hunted.”
Many in the outside world bore hostility toward Shi Hao—especially the Celestial Clan and the ancient sects overseeing the Sin Province. His past actions, such as slaying the Seven Gods in the lower realm, had earned him deep enmity.
The Heavenly Kingdom, the Netherworld, the Beast Sea—each was a terrifying force, their influence vast enough to make hearts tremble.
Five months passed. Shi Hao traversed all the paths, yet the azure stone steps behind him remained hazy, occasionally flickering with faint light.
Meanwhile, within countless radiant “bubbles” of worlds, pillars of flame surged into the heavens, scattering the clouds!
People were ascending to godhood. By now, sixty to seventy percent had succeeded—over three million Venerables had become deities!
This was terrifying. These were all geniuses, and once they unleashed their power, the results would be astounding.
Even the strongest prodigies and ancient freaks had made shocking progress, occasionally manifesting rare phenomena that stirred uproar.
“Someone has fused with immortal blood, another has planted a divine sapling—both astonishing feats. Now, their auras are veiled, no longer visible.”
A few were particularly special. Their profound insights and unique divine substances caused bizarre transformations when merging with their bodies.
At this point, the three thousand petals no longer reflected them—perhaps a form of protection.
“Look! What is that? What has he fused with?”
A True God exclaimed, his voice trembling like an unstable youth.
Others turned to the stone stele and gasped.
An ancient freak had not taken a treasure flame but a black liquid. As it merged with him, it extinguished the flames within his body.
“What is he doing? Trying to snuff out his divine fire?” No one understood, their faces filled with shock.
Even sect masters were moved. None could identify the liquid, sensing only that it was extraordinary, containing countless laws.
“This might be something born from the dawn of creation—the division of yin and yang. Could it be the primordial yin condensed into source liquid?” the Heaven Mending Sect’s leader mused.
Hearts raced. Even the great sect masters stared intently.
Such a treasure was beyond rare, yet he had found it to ascend to godhood.
But was primordial yin source liquid suitable for ignition? Wouldn’t it extinguish his divine fire, preventing his metamorphosis?
Indeed, his inner flames dimmed, as if on the verge of dying out.
“This man is extraordinary. He’s taking a different path—not directly igniting himself but planting a new Dao. If he succeeds, it will shake history.”
A woman spoke from a silver war chariot—a member of the current imperial clan.
Soon, the man was engulfed in black light, vanishing from sight.
“What about Six Crown King Ning Chuan?” someone asked.
His figure appeared on a stele—clad in pristine white, his silver hair cascading like a celestial being.
He had yet to act, a sealed treasure box beside him emitting mysterious ripples that faintly pierced through the ancient realm.
What was inside?
What would Ning Chuan use to fuse with his Dao, and how high would he ascend?
“Months have passed. Why hasn’t Ning Chuan moved? What is he waiting for?”
“That treasure might rival the Ten Crown King’s sapling—utterly heaven-defying.”
“But this is dangerous. If others emerge first, they might hunt him down.”
This was no idle speculation. The strongest would inevitably clash, and those who ascended earlier would seize the advantage.
“Surely he has a plan—a hidden sanctuary where none can find him.”
Suddenly, another stele erupted with blinding light, drawing gasps and darkening the faces of some sects.
“Someone has begun hunting!”
Newly ascended gods, now stabilized, moved through the ancient realms, pursuing rivals.
Some even targeted famed young supremes still in seclusion, aiming to kill them before they could emerge.
Though the gods avoided direct conflict, the seeds of chaos had been sown.
“Ah—!”
An elder roared in anguish before a stele, his sect wailing in grief. A beautiful middle-aged woman screamed in heartbreak.
“What happened?”
“A prodigy has fallen—slain before fully igniting his divine fire, ambushed by a newly ascended god.”
A tragedy. A dazzling prodigy, destined for greatness, had perished.
“Which sect did this? I’ll annihilate them!”
“A rogue cultivator, masked by strange arts. Even sect masters cannot pierce the veil.”
Deaths began to mount, the cruelty escalating.
As heroes sought fortunes, some inevitably fell—some to deadly traps, others to terrifying native creatures.
“What are those beings? Do powerful races dwell within the ancient realm?”
In one small world, a black citadel unleashed armored warriors, slaughtering intruders.
In another, swarms of insects reduced dozens of gods to bloodied skeletons.
The ancient realm held treasures, but also horrors.
Yet most survived, reaping great rewards.
Life and death hung in balance—otherwise, none would dare enter.
“Heh… haha…” The Lion-Dragon Sect laughed in relief.
“After five months, our prodigy has succeeded—ignited himself and ascended!” a Heavenly God rejoiced.
This prodigy was exceptional, undefeated across multiple provinces, and his “ancient flame” was extraordinary.
His rise was assured—not only could he vie for the greatest treasures, but he could also hunt others.
The Fire Cloud Cave, the Floating Truth Valley—these ancient sects, allied and mighty, watched eagerly as their disciples ascended.
“Our prodigy isn’t far from the three thousand azure paths. If he finds that Sinful Blood descendant, he’ll kill him.”
“With his divine senses and followers, he’ll surely locate him.”
The Lion-Dragon Sect’s smiles widened, their hatred for Shi Hao palpable.
Meanwhile, the Netherworld, the Heavenly Kingdom, and the Beast Sea also celebrated as their elites ascended.
Soon, attention returned to Shi Hao.
Seeing his stagnant state, the Lion-Dragon Sect sneered.
“How amusing—no progress at all. Our prodigy won’t even need to dirty his hands. A few gods could crush him.”
“Good! Our supreme youth has emerged!” the Floating Truth Valley exulted.
“They’ll find that Sinful Blood descendant. He won’t live.”
Suddenly, movement flickered on a stele—Shi Hao had stirred.
He sat cross-legged, his body alight—not with ordinary flames, but with clusters of blazing Dao runes.
All watched intently.
Then, laughter erupted—he was burning himself!
“Hahaha!” The Lion-Dragon Sect roared. “After months of silence, he’s burning holes in his own body! What a fool!”
“No need to kill him—he’ll do it himself!”
Yet the Lion-Dragon Sect’s elder and the Fire Cloud Cave’s master remained silent, their eyes narrowed, faces grave.
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