Undoubtedly, these Sacred Trees were ancient beyond measure, far surpassing those seen earlier. Their radiant auras surged like thousands of divine rainbows converging here.
Ordinary Sacred Trees stood only a foot tall, but these were as tall as a person, their bark resembling dragon scales, their branches twisting and turning—each one unique. Their leaves, carved like jade, shimmered with holy light.
“Whoosh!”
A golden thread shot through the air, swift as lightning, distorting the void.
“Clang!”
With a flick of his hand, Shi Hao intercepted it. Sparks flew between his fingers—it was a Golden Silkworm, no longer than a thumb, yet impossibly hard. An ordinary True God would have been pierced through.
Shi Hao frowned. These insects were numerous—he had seen many on the Sacred Trees.
However, with the Imperial Butterfly here, he wasn’t overly concerned. Still, unease gnawed at him. The place was too quiet, as if danger lurked unseen.
This was his instinct upon entering the grove. The ancient forest held hidden perils. He had come to cultivate, but trouble seemed inevitable—he had to uncover it first.
“Hmm? My magic is usable again.”
As he ventured deeper into the woods, his power returned. Instantly, he expanded his sole Heavenly Passage, shielding himself within.
“Screech!”
A shrill cry echoed as a streak of purple light lunged at him—a crazed violet marten, eyes bloodshot.
It tore through the void with terrifying force—an actual Heavenly God!
Shi Hao’s heart jolted. A Heavenly God dwelling here? He turned and fled. A maddened Heavenly God was the most fearsome, utterly unreasonable.
“Ooooh…”
Bestial roars erupted as thousands of violet martens surged forth, all at the Deity level.
But the true horror was among them—three crazed Heavenly Gods. This was beyond shocking!
Clearly, this was a powerful tribe nesting among the Sacred Trees. Cultivating here would be near impossible.
Shi Hao fled in disarray.
“Thud!”
Despite his strength, with three strands of immortal qi swirling around him, a violet claw still struck his shoulder, leaving bloody holes.
An ordinary person hit by a Heavenly God would have been pulverized instantly.
Gritting his teeth, Shi Hao activated the Divine Ability of Shrinking the Earth to an Inch. In a few flashes, he vanished beyond the forest. At the periphery, his magic faded, forcing him to rely on his formidable physique to escape.
He barely shook off the three mad Heavenly Gods.
Thankfully, their insanity clouded their judgment—otherwise, it would have been disastrous.
Much later, Shi Hao circled back. The area had calmed, but a closer look sent chills down his spine.
He found the violet martens’ nest. The three Heavenly Gods weren’t the worst—there was an ancient marten, its fur purple streaked with white, decrepit and half-conscious, slumbering within.
“A Sect Master!”
This was a super tribe. A terrifying Sect Master-level being lurked in their den.
How could he handle this? Shi Hao’s head spun with frustration.
Earlier, he had considered luring the three Heavenly Gods away one by one, trapping them in a dead zone. But now, with the ancient marten present, provoking them would be suicidal.
Unwilling to give up, he waited for days until an odd fluctuation rippled through the area.
The violet martens vanished, retreating deep underground.
Shi Hao tensed. Something was amiss. In the distance, a swamp split open, emitting dazzling light and strange vibrations.
“What is that?” His heart pounded.
“A formation!” Shi Hao realized—a remnant array from the previous era.
The wave swept past, causing Golden Silkworms and venomous insects to drop like stones, falling into slumber. The quicker ones fled into burrows.
Shi Hao shuddered. He had no intention of sleeping here. Summoning the Ten Thousand Spirits Diagram, he shielded himself and bolted for the forest’s edge.
Yet, the wave was too fast. In an instant, it engulfed the ancient land, catching him.
Before his eyes, dormant insects ceased moving entirely—lifeless.
“A sinister formation, killing in slumber!” Shi Hao recoiled. The Ten Thousand Spirits Diagram glowed, forming a protective barrier that resisted the wave.
Otherwise, he might have met the same fate.
The swamp’s radiance flickered unevenly, surging and receding like tides.
As the wave retreated, insects emerged from hiding, scavenging the dead for food.
“This place is eerie. The underground formations spare rocks—those hiding within are safe.” Shi Hao muttered.
Instead of venturing in, he dashed toward the Sacred Trees.
This was the disaster’s epicenter. The violet martens had vanished, leaving utter silence.
“Time to cultivate!”
Though perilous, he had no choice. Once the martens returned, his chance would be lost.
He tasked the Imperial Butterfly and the God-Slaying Stone to guard him, ready to wake him if danger arose.
The Sacred Trees blazed gloriously—some golden, others emerald-leaved, some silver-barked, all exuding sacred energy.
Shi Hao needed them for his breakthrough.
Sacred Trees were unique treasures.
They could “burn” the body—not with literal flames, but with light resembling fire, a manifestation of heavenly laws. This light tempered both body and dao.
**Sacrificial Sanctification**—the realm Shi Hao sought to enter.
This stage was notoriously treacherous. Many cultivators skipped it entirely, deeming it too dangerous.
After True God, the truly exceptional could ascend directly to Heavenly God.
Yet legends claimed that only those who underwent Sacrificial Sanctification could become true Kings Among Gods. Thus, the most gifted chose this path.
Rumors said that without this trial, eternal life was impossible—the pinnacle of divinity would remain out of reach.
For most, immortality was a distant dream. Across epochs, who had truly escaped death? All returned to dust.
Thus, ninety percent of cultivators ignored Sacrificial Sanctification. Only the supremely confident dared attempt it.
This realm was bizarre. One’s cultivation fluctuated wildly—sometimes rivaling a Heavenly God, other times plummeting below even the Divine Flame Realm.
Enemies striking during a weak phase spelled doom.
Despite the risks, Shi Hao had no choice. To reach the summit, this trial was unavoidable.
Even ancient legends agreed—those who underwent it emerged stronger.
Some didn’t consider it a true realm, as Sanctified beings could battle Heavenly Gods, blurring the lines.
Yet this “tempering” was lethally dangerous, deterring most.
Success meant supremacy—earning titles like Sage or Godking.
Failure meant eternal stagnation, or worse—falling beneath even True God or Divine Flame levels.
Many prepared sacrificial artifacts to bear the realm’s backlash, sparing their own cultivation.
Thus, many potential Heavenly God-tier artifacts were reduced to mere “Sacred Tools.”
“Power surging and waning—some soar as dragons, others plunge into abysses.”
This was Shi Hao’s warning to himself. He couldn’t afford carelessness.
Secluded in the misty grove, he first perfected his True God realm before attempting the sanctification.
This didn’t take long—he was already near perfection.
Cultivating the Willow Deity’s methods, his foundation solidified. Within half a month, he reached peak True God, ready for the trial.
“Stay alert. Guard me well,” Shi Hao instructed the Imperial Butterfly and the God-Slaying Stone.
“Relax. We’ll flee with you before those martens return,” the stone quipped shamelessly.
**Boom!**
Shi Hao’s aura shifted, drawing essence from the Sacred Trees. Flame-like radiance engulfed him—not fire, but dao light, fragments of law tempering his body and path.
This was the holiest baptism in existence.
“Hey! Are you ascending?” the stone yelped.
Space around Shi Hao fractured, showering luminous rain. Immortal mist billowed, sacred light radiating.
Shi Hao himself was startled. Sacrificial Sanctification was even stranger than described.
This realm often birthed inexplicable phenomena—ascension lights, phantom halls, even mysterious paths appearing in the void.
Ancient records spoke of cultivators vanishing onto such paths, never to return.
Some peerless figures had disappeared this way, their fates unknown.
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