Chapter 170: The Dark Angel King (3)

No matter what, for Sa’an, even if he could survive with Yun Shang’s rescue, it would be as good as death for a proud king. How could a true Dark Emperor allow others to save him?

The Kadith Dragon Clan would never intervene because they knew well that Sa’an would rather die than let others interfere.

The invisible sword had materialized, yet it had nurtured a more powerful, faster, and inconceivable force. Unstoppable and heavy as ten thousand tons, it pierced straight toward Sa’an’s head. Sa’an had nothing to block it.

Yet he lifted his head and smiled. On his handsome, even somewhat bewitching face, a smile bloomed that no one could understand. This smile was profound, capable of piercing into one’s soul.

Then, starting from Sa’an’s long hair, his face, shoulders, slender body, and every part of him, radiant light began to shine. This light could no longer be described in human language; not even hundreds of thousands of suns could rival it. The others here had to use their powers to shield their eyes, lest they be blinded.

Sa’an’s entire body was enveloped in that radiant glow. This immense brilliance was like the universe’s first big bang, concentrating all energy at a single point and erupting. Or like the first glimmer of light appearing in the sky after ten thousand years of darkness, a brightness that turned all darkness into light and all light into darkness.

This unimaginable brightness slowly expanded, accompanied by an extraordinary power, seemingly unstoppable forever. Yang Hao’s invisible sword was rendered utterly ridiculous by such a power. Without even touching it, it was struck away into some unknown place.

No matter what, even if Saan could survive with Yun Shang’s rescue, for a proud king, it was already no different from death. A true Dark Emperor would never allow himself to be saved by others.

The Cadis Dragons would never intervene, for they knew well that Saan would rather die than accept outside help.

The Invisible Sword had revealed itself, yet it now carried an even more formidable, swifter, and unimaginable force—unstoppable, weighing like a mountain as it thrust toward Saan’s head. Saan had nothing to block it.

Yet he raised his head and smiled. His handsome, almost eerie face bore an enigmatic grin, so profound it seemed capable of piercing hearts.

Then, starting from Saan’s long hair, his face, shoulders, slender body, and every part of him erupted with a radiance so intense it defied human description. Not even a hundred thousand suns could rival it. The others present had to shield their eyes with their power to avoid being blinded.

Saan was entirely engulfed in that light, like the first cosmic explosion, where all energy concentrated into a single point before bursting forth. Or like the first ray of light after ten thousand years of darkness, turning all darkness into light and all light into darkness.

This unimaginable brilliance expanded slowly, carrying an extraordinary force that seemed unstoppable. Yang Hao’s Invisible Sword appeared utterly ridiculous in the face of such power—it didn’t even make contact before being flung away to who-knows-where.

**”The Great Radiance Technique! Damn it, it’s the Great Radiance Technique!!”** Cadis roared in fury as the dragons swiftly wrapped their wings around themselves.

Compared to them, the demons fared far worse. Many mid and lower-tier demons were engulfed in black smoke, their bodies scorched by the overwhelming light.

This was no surprise. Though they were all part of the divine races, the dark-aligned demons were inherently attuned to darkness—their mortal enemy was light. And now, Saan had unleashed the highest-tier light technique. Fortunately, his target wasn’t the demons below, or countless lives would have been lost.

The Great Radiance Technique was revered as the supreme art among the divine races. Legends said only the King of Radiant Angels could wield it. Few in this world had ever witnessed it, for those who did were often consumed by its brilliance, pierced through by the Sword of Light.

In the buried war between gods and demons, the Radiant Angels’ last stronghold was besieged by the Dark Angels. The battle raged until corpses littered the land, and the Dark Angels were on the verge of total victory. But at the critical moment, a twelve-winged Radiant Angel unleashed this forbidden technique—an endless surge of blinding white light erupted from the temple, withering the wings of the Dark Angels. That single technique annihilated thousands of Dark Angels, reversing the tide of war.

From then on, none dared attack the Radiant Angels’ temple, for the Great Radiance Technique was etched within its walls, ready to slay any who bore darkness.

Yet now, after ages of silence, the Great Radiance Technique had reappeared. And what was truly shocking—it was being wielded by Saan, the King of Dark Angels.

A ruler of darkness, wielding the pinnacle of light—was Saan truly the fusion of darkness and light, an invincible god beyond all challenge?

Amid the demons’ howls, Saan’s radiance did not fade. Instead, it grew brighter, expanding further, even creeping toward Yang Hao in the distance.

Yang Hao was now reaping the consequences of his actions. He had assumed the divine races were like his past foes—easy to ambush and defeat. But how could he have known the pride of a king? A king could die, could perish, but could never be defeated. So Saan risked harming his own kind, risked upheaving the world itself, just to unleash the Great Radiance Technique. He would never allow a mere mortal to harm him—not even a single feather.

Now, nothing in this world could stop the Great Radiance Technique as it closed in on Yang Hao. He felt its oppressive force. He had always believed darkness alone was evil, yet under this blinding white pressure, he sensed something sinister—an alluring, intoxicating malevolence that promised only death.

Yang Hao couldn’t even move, yet he wasn’t surprised. Perhaps, for him at this moment, battling the Dark King and witnessing this supreme technique before death was already the best possible outcome.

The white radiance expanded rapidly, devouring everything—air, sunlight, clouds, even time itself—engulfed by the endless white. At an unimaginable speed, the light reached Yang Hao. When the first ray touched his fingertip—

He felt pain.

This pain was unlike any before. Yang Hao had suffered many times—when wounded by enemies, when his beloved died for him, when loyal subjects were buried, even when Hunyuanzi was devoured by the Black Dragon. Each time, the agony had been unbearable.

But this was unprecedented. It seared his skin, seeped into his blood, and pierced his heart. His fingertip burned—literally. A white flower bloomed there, its holy yet sinister glow consuming his flesh bit by bit.

Then, another flame erupted from Yang Hao’s dantian—a black fire, unnoticed until now. As the Great Radiance Technique struck, this black fire surged forth, clashing violently with the white light.

Yang Hao writhed in torment.

Light and darkness—two opposing forces—converged within him. Unbeknownst to him, this was a pivotal moment, an epochal instant the universe had awaited since time immemorial.

All Yang Hao felt was being torn apart. He couldn’t know that the black flame stemmed from the Black Dragon’s breath, transformed into dark power. When it collided with the light, the energy unleashed was the universe’s deepest secret—the very force behind creation and destruction.

Yet Yang Hao was caught in a vortex, two opposing energies shredding his skin, meridians, and blood. He was on the verge of being ripped to pieces.

**”AHHHHHHH!!!”** Yang Hao screamed as light pierced his mouth, palms, heart, limbs—everything.

White and black light merged, creating a spectacle of surreal beauty. Yang Hao was now a blazing figure in the sky, a roaring flame above the clouds.

The most stunned were the high-ranking divine beings watching. Yun Shang and Cadis were speechless. Only they understood what was happening—yet they refused to believe it. For this was a legend, a tale even the divine races considered myth.

To trace this legend’s origin, one had to return to the birth of the universe. The cosmos emerged from a mysterious explosion eons ago—the Big Bang, history’s greatest enigma. From it came the vast universe, stars, life, gods, and mortals.

And with it, two forces: light and darkness, forever opposed. The divine races split accordingly—Yun Shang’s Radiant Clan and the Radiant Angels on one side, Saan and the Cadis Dragons on the other. Eternal enemies.

Yet a legend persisted: if one could fuse light and darkness within, they would surpass all divine power, becoming the invincible War God—the Universe’s Sovereign.

But legends remained legends. None had ever achieved it, for light and darkness canceled each other out. To balance them was near impossible.

Even if someone, by chance, harbored both, equilibrium was key. If one force dominated, the other would be suppressed, preventing true power from emerging. Only perfect balance could birth the God of Radiance.

Among the Cadis Dragons, legends spoke of three dragon breaths transforming one into a dragon.

Among the Radiant Clan, three infusions of light could ascend one to godhood.

In truth, both spoke of the same path. The true Universe’s Sovereign had to endure six near-death metamorphoses.

First, the Black Dragon’s breath. Second, the Golden Dragon’s—the highest among dragons. Third, the Apocalypse Trial of a thousand dragons.

For light, the first was the Great Radiance Technique’s baptism. The next two remained unknown, for none had lived to tell.

By sheer coincidence, Yang Hao had endured the Black Dragon’s breath at Dragon Cliff, thanks to Hunyuanzi’s Breath Pill. Now, Saan’s Great Radiance Technique was light’s first trial.

If Yang Hao survived, he would become the universe’s most miraculous anomaly—the first to fuse light and darkness, a candidate for Cosmic Divinity.

**”Impossible!!”** Yun Shang stared at the blazing figure in the sky, where Yang Hao’s form was lost in the clash of forces.

**”ROAR!!”** The Black Dragon howled, sensing the world tremble—the sky, earth, even clouds shifting subtly, as if trembling before a king’s arrival.

The world darkened, then flared anew. The clouds parted, revealing a pristine blue sky.

The flames around Yang Hao and Saan’s radiant sphere vanished in a deafening explosion—so powerful even the divine races staggered. The shockwave sent Dark Angels tumbling from the skies.

Demons and gods below fared worse. Lower-tier beings like Xinmei collapsed, enduring what felt like a divine earthquake.

The cataclysm lasted ten minutes, toppling structures across the divine realm. When it subsided, only one survivor remained.

If Saan’s Great Radiance Technique had won, Yang Hao would be dead—his transformation incomplete.

If Yang Hao had won, Saan would have fallen, proving even the Great Radiance Technique couldn’t stop him.

Amid lingering tremors, the divine races looked skyward—only to see Saan standing unharmed, his six silver-lined wings now pure black.

Yang Hao, however, was a charred wreck, plummeting lifelessly to the ground. Divine senses revealed inner flames still devouring his dwindling life.

**”He lost,”** Cadis growled. **”Loss means death. He’s no savior.”**

Yun Shang’s face twitched, but he couldn’t argue. The facts were clear. Yang Hao had failed the trial.

Yet then—Saan’s icy voice cut through: **”He won.”**

**”Won?”** Cadis roared in disbelief. But then it fell silent.

A single feather drifted down—once black, now silver.

From Saan’s wing.

Gasps erupted. An angel’s feathers were their power. Losing one meant Yang Hao had prevailed—his flames could have torn Saan’s wings, yet only a feather fell.

This didn’t mean Yang Hao surpassed Saan, but it proved the Great Radiance Technique hadn’t destroyed him. Instead, it had tempered him, completing the first fusion of light and darkness.

Though Yang Hao lay broken, burning from within, he had passed the trial.

Yet no one moved to extinguish his flames—stunned into inaction.

Silence reigned. Yang Hao’s life ebbed away.

Then—a breeze, carrying blue droplets that quenched his inner fire.

A stranger approached—white-haired, enigmatic, smirking with roguish charm.

He knelt beside Yang Hao, his expression softening as if seeing his own child. With a wave, the wind and rain ceased.

Yang Hao stirred, forcing open scorched eyelids to meet the stranger’s gaze.

For some reason, warmth flooded his heart, tears welling as he rasped:

**”Master…”**

Then darkness took him again.

The stranger smiled tenderly, lifting Yang Hao’s limp form. Ignoring the awestruck gods, he strode away without a word.

Comparatively, among the demon clans, they were relatively fortunate. Other mid and low-tier demons suffered far worse under this unstoppable brightness. One by one, thick black smoke rose from their bodies, clearly burned by the light.

No matter what, even if Saan could survive with Yun Shang’s rescue, for a proud king, it was already no different from death. A true Dark Emperor would never allow others to save him.

The Cadis Dragons would never intervene, for they knew all too well that Saan would rather die than accept outside help.

The Invisible Sword had revealed itself, but it now carried an even more powerful, faster, and unimaginable force, unstoppable and bearing down on Saan’s head like a mountain. Saan had nothing to block it.

Yet he looked up and smiled. His handsome, almost demonic face broke into an enigmatic expression—one so profound it could pierce the soul.

Then, starting from Saan’s long hair, his face, his shoulders, his slender body, and every part of him erupted with a light so intense it defied human description. Not even a hundred thousand suns could rival its brilliance. The others present had to shield their eyes with their power to avoid being blinded.

Saan was entirely engulfed by this radiant sphere, like the first cosmic explosion, where all energy was concentrated into a single point before bursting forth. Or like the first ray of light after ten thousand years of darkness, illuminating all shadows and turning all brightness into darkness.

This unimaginable radiance slowly expanded, carrying an extraordinary force that seemed unstoppable. Yang Hao’s Invisible Sword appeared utterly insignificant in the face of such power—it didn’t even make contact before being flung away into oblivion.

“Great Radiance Technique! Damn it, it’s the Great Radiance Technique!!” Cadis roared in fury as the dragons swiftly wrapped their wings around themselves.

Compared to them, the demons fared worse. Many mid and lower-tier demons were scorched by the overwhelming light, their bodies emitting thick black smoke.

This was no surprise. Though both were divine beings, the dark-aligned demons were inherently opposed to light. And the Great Radiance Technique Saan had unleashed was the pinnacle of light-based magic. Fortunately, his target wasn’t the demons below—otherwise, countless would have perished.

The Great Radiance Technique was revered as the supreme art among the divine. Legends claimed only the King of Light Angels could wield it. Few in the world had ever witnessed it, for those who did were often consumed by its brilliance, pierced by the Sword of Light.

During the buried War of Gods and Demons, the final stronghold of the Light Angels was besieged by the Dark Angels. The battle raged until corpses littered the field, and victory seemed certain for the Dark Angels. But at the critical moment, a twelve-winged Great Light Angel unleashed this forbidden technique. Endless white radiance poured from the stronghold, withering the evil wings of the Dark Angels and slaying thousands in an instant, reversing the tide of war.

From then on, none dared attack the Light Angels’ sanctuary, for the Great Radiance Technique was etched within its walls, ready to annihilate any who bore darkness.

Yet now, after ages of silence, the Great Radiance Technique had resurfaced. And what truly shocked all was that its wielder was none other than Saan, the King of Dark Angels.

A ruler of darkness had unleashed the highest art of light. Could it be that Saan was truly the fusion of darkness and light—the invincible god of this world?

Amid the demons’ howls, Saan’s radiance did not wane. Instead, it grew brighter, expanding further, even creeping toward Yang Hao in the distance.

Yang Hao was now reaping the consequences of his actions. He had assumed the divine were like his past foes—easy to ambush and defeat. But he never imagined the pride of a king. A king could die, could perish, but could never be defeated. Thus, Saan risked harming his kin and altering the world itself to unleash the Great Radiance Technique. He would never allow a mere mortal to harm him—not even a single feather.

Nothing in the world could stop the Great Radiance Technique as it closed in on Yang Hao. He felt its oppressive force. He had always believed darkness alone was evil, yet under this blinding pressure, he sensed a sinister aura—one laced with enchantment, intoxicating yet fatal.

Yang Hao couldn’t move, but he wasn’t surprised. Perhaps, for him now, fighting the Dark King and witnessing such a supreme technique before death was the best possible end.

The white sphere of the Great Radiance Technique rapidly expanded, devouring everything—air, sunlight, clouds, even time itself—into its endless whiteness. At unimaginable speed, the light reached Yang Hao. When the first ray touched his fingertip—

He felt pain.

A pain unlike any before. Yang Hao had suffered many times—when wounded by enemies, when his loved ones died for him, when loyal subjects were buried, even when Hunyuanzi was devoured by the Black Dragon. But this pain was unprecedented, searing his skin, invading his blood, piercing his heart. His fingertip burned, and indeed, white flames bloomed there, scorching his flesh bit by bit.

Meanwhile, another fire surged from his dantian—a black flame, unnoticed until now. As the Great Radiance Technique attacked, this dark fire stirred, rising unbidden to clash with the white radiance.

Yang Hao writhed in agony.

Light and darkness, forces of opposing natures, converged within him. Unbeknownst to him, this was a pivotal moment—one the universe had awaited since time immemorial.

All Yang Hao felt was tearing. He couldn’t know the black flame was the transformed essence of the Black Dragon’s breath, nor that its collision with the Great Radiance Technique unleashed energies from the cosmos’s deepest secrets—the very forces behind creation and destruction.

Yet to Yang Hao, it was as if he’d been sucked into a vortex. Two opposing energies flooded his body, shredding every inch of his skin, meridians, and blood. He was being torn apart.

“Ah!!! Ah!!!!!” Yang Hao screamed. The light pierced his roaring mouth, his palms, his heart, his limbs—everything was engulfed.

White and black light merged, creating a spectacle of surreal beauty. Yang Hao became a blazing figure in the sky, a ball of fire above the clouds.

The most stunned were the high-ranking divine beings watching. Yun Shang and Cadis were speechless. Only they understood what was happening—yet even they refused to believe it, for it was a legend even among the gods.

To trace this legend’s origin, one must return to the birth of the universe. The cosmos began with a mysterious explosion eons ago—the Big Bang from a singularity, history’s greatest enigma. From it emerged the vast universe, stars, life, gods, and mortals.

With the explosion came two forces: light and darkness, distinct and opposing. The divine split into two factions—one led by Yun Shang’s Flash Clan and the Light Angels, the other by Saan and the Cadis Dragons. These factions were eternal enemies.

Yet a prophecy stated that whoever fused light and dark within themselves would surpass all divine power, becoming the invincible War God and ascending as the universe’s sovereign—the Cosmic King.

But it remained only a legend. No one had ever achieved it, for light and dark were antithetical—mutually destructive. Even if someone miraculously harbored both, balance was key. One force would dominate, suppressing the other, preventing true fusion. Only at perfect equilibrium could one ascend as the God of Light.

Among the Cadis Dragons, legends spoke of three dragon-breath baptisms transforming one into a dragon.

Among the light-aligned divine, three infusions of radiant power could make a god.

In truth, both referred to the same path. The true Cosmic King must endure six near-fatal transformations.

The first was baptism by the Cadis Black Dragon’s breath, the second by the Golden Dragon’s (the dragonkind’s mightiest), and the third by the apocalyptic trial of a thousand dragons.

For the light path, the first was the Great Radiance Technique. The latter two remained unknown, for none had ever endured them.

By sheer chance, Yang Hao had survived the Black Dragon’s breath at Dragon Cliff with Hunyuanzi’s Breath Pill, completing his first dark transformation. Now, Saan’s Great Radiance Technique offered the first light baptism.

If Yang Hao endured, he would become the universe’s most miraculous anomaly—the first to fuse light and dark, a candidate for Cosmic King as ordained by the Creator.

“Impossible!!” Yun Shang stared at the blazing figure in the sky, where Yang Hao’s form was lost amid the clashing forces.

“Roar!!” The Cadis Black Dragon shrieked at the heavens, sensing the world tremble. The sky, the earth, even the clouds shifted subtly—as if trembling before a king’s arrival.

The world darkened, then flared anew. The clouds parted, revealing a pristine blue expanse.

The fierce flames around Yang Hao and Saan’s radiant sphere vanished in a deafening explosion—one so vast even the divine staggered. The very fabric of space quaked, sending Dark Angels tumbling from the skies.

Demons and lesser divine fared worse. Xin Mei and others prostrated, enduring what felt like a divine earthquake.

The cataclysm lasted ten minutes, toppling structures across the divine realm. When it subsided, all eyes turned skyward.

This was the aftermath of an explosion—the collision between Yang Hao’s transforming body and Saan’s Great Radiance Technique. In such a clash, only one could survive.

If Saan’s technique prevailed, Yang Hao would die, his transformation incomplete. If Yang Hao won, Saan would fall, proving his resilience against even the Great Radiance Technique.

Despite lingering tremors, the divine below craned their necks, unsure whether to hope or despair. Their first sight was Saan, standing unharmed upon the clouds, his six silver-tinged wings now folded back to pure black.

Yang Hao, however, was a charred wreck, plummeting lifelessly to the ground. Divine senses revealed invisible flames still devouring him from within—soon, he’d be ashes.

“He lost,” Cadis rumbled. “Loss means death. He was no savior.”

Yun Shang’s face twitched, but he had no rebuttal. The facts were clear. Yang Hao had failed the first fusion trial. He wasn’t the Creator’s chosen king.

A sigh escaped Yun Shang. His strength drained away, leaving him too despondent to even extinguish Yang Hao’s flames. All watched as the fire consumed what little life remained in him. To them, if Yang Hao wasn’t the prophesied one, he was expendable.

Then, a voice cut through the silence like ice.

“He won.”

Saan’s words fell from the sky.

“Won?” Cadis roared. Impossible—Yang Hao was at death’s door, while Saan stood unscathed. The outcome was obvious.

Yet soon, the dragon gaped soundlessly. Something drifted down from the sun’s path—a single feather, insignificant at any other time, but now, everything.

It was black at first, pure as a demon’s heart. But as it fell, its hue lightened—gray, then white, until it landed as a gleaming silver plume.

A feather from the Dark Angel King’s wing.

Gasps arose. All knew an angel’s feathers were extensions of their power. To dislodge one was to wound the angel itself.

Saan’s lost feather meant Yang Hao had prevailed. His flames could have torn Saan’s wings, yet only this single feather fell.

It didn’t mean Yang Hao surpassed Saan, but clearly, the Great Radiance Technique hadn’t destroyed him. Instead, it had tempered him, completing his first fusion of light and dark.

Though Yang Hao lay broken, his life ebbing in the flames, he had endured the trial.

Still, no divine moved to save him—not out of indifference, but sheer awe. They stood frozen, forgetting Yang Hao had mere seconds left.

Silence reigned, thick as time itself. Only Yang Hao’s flickering life remained in motion.

Then, a breeze stirred, carrying dampness. Blue droplets fell from the wind, seeping into Yang Hao’s skin, cooling the inferno within.

With the wind came a stranger—a man in his thirties with snow-white hair and an air of roguish charm. His expression softened as he neared Yang Hao, as if beholding his own child. With a wave, the wind and rain ceased.

Yang Hao stirred weakly, forcing open scorched eyelids to meet the stranger’s gaze.

Yet inexplicably, warmth surged in his chest, spilling as tears. His lips trembled.

“Master…”

Then, darkness took him again.

The stranger smiled tenderly, lifting Yang Hao’s frail form. Ignoring the stunned divine, he strode away without a backward glance.

No matter what, even if Saan could survive with Yun Shang’s rescue, for a proud king, it was already no different from death. A true Dark Emperor would never allow others to save him.

The Cadis Dragons would never intervene, for they knew all too well that Saan would rather die than accept outside help.

The Invisible Sword had revealed itself, but it now carried an even more powerful, faster, and unimaginable force—unstoppable and bearing the weight of a thousand mountains—as it thrust toward Saan’s head. Saan had nothing left to block it.

Yet he raised his head and smiled. His handsome, almost demonically charming face bloomed with a smile no one could decipher—a smile so profound it could pierce straight into the soul.

Then, starting from Saan’s long hair, down to his face, shoulders, slender body, and every inch of him, an unbearably radiant light erupted. This light was beyond human description, outshining even a hundred thousand suns. The others present had to shield their eyes with their power just to avoid being blinded.

Saan was entirely engulfed in that sphere of light—like the first great explosion of the universe, condensing all energy into a single point before unleashing it. Or like the first ray of light after ten thousand years of darkness, turning all darkness into light and all light into darkness.

This unimaginable brilliance slowly expanded, carrying an overwhelming force that seemed unstoppable. Yang Hao’s Invisible Sword appeared utterly insignificant in the face of such power, flung away without even making contact.

“Great Radiance Technique! Damn it, it’s the Great Radiance Technique!!” Cadis roared in fury as the dragons swiftly wrapped their wings around themselves.

Compared to the demons, they fared better. The mid- and lower-tier demons suffered far worse in this unstoppable radiance, their bodies emitting thick black smoke as they were scorched by the light.

This was no surprise. Though all belonged to the divine races, the dark-aligned demons were inherently tied to darkness—their mortal enemy was light. And the Great Radiance Technique Saan had unleashed was the pinnacle of light-based magic. Fortunately, his target wasn’t the demons below, or countless lives would have been lost.

The Great Radiance Technique was revered as the supreme art among the divine races. Legends said only the King of Radiant Angels could wield it. Few in this world had ever witnessed it, for most who did had already been consumed by its light, pierced through by its sword.

In the buried war of gods and demons, the last stronghold of the Radiant Angels was besieged by the Dark Angels. The battle raged until corpses littered the land, and just as the Dark Angels were about to claim victory, the twelve-winged Radiant Angel unleashed this forbidden technique. Endless white light poured from the stronghold, withering the dark wings of the enemy. That single technique slaughtered ten thousand Dark Angels and reversed the tide of war.

Since then, none dared attack the Radiant Angels’ stronghold, for the Great Radiance Technique was etched within its walls, ready to annihilate any who bore darkness.

Yet now, after ages of silence, the Great Radiance Technique had resurfaced. And what truly shook the world was that its wielder was none other than Saan, the King of Dark Angels.

A ruler of darkness had unleashed the highest art of light. Was Saan truly the union of darkness and light—the undefeatable god of this world?

Amid the demons’ howls, Saan’s radiance did not fade. Instead, it grew brighter, expanding further, even creeping toward Yang Hao in the distance.

Yang Hao was now reaping the consequences of his actions. He had assumed the divine races were like his past foes—easy to ambush and defeat. But he never imagined how fiercely a king guarded his dignity. A king could die, could perish, but could never be defeated. Thus, Saan risked harming his own kind, risked upheaving the world itself, just to unleash the Great Radiance Technique. He would never allow a mere mortal to harm him—not even a single feather.

The unstoppable Great Radiance Technique drew closer to Yang Hao. He could feel its oppressive force. He had always believed darkness alone was evil, yet under this blinding white pressure, he sensed a sinister aura—one laced with enchantment, intoxicating yet fatal.

Yang Hao couldn’t even move, but he wasn’t surprised. This outcome seemed inevitable. Perhaps, for him at this moment, fighting the Dark King and witnessing this peerless technique before death was the best possible end.

The white sphere of the Great Radiance Technique rapidly expanded, devouring everything around it—air, sunlight, clouds, even time itself. At an unimaginable speed, the light reached Yang Hao. When the first ray touched his fingertip—

He felt pain.

This pain was unlike any before. Yang Hao had suffered many times—when wounded by enemies, when his loved ones died for him, when loyal subjects were buried, even when Hunyuanzi was devoured by the Black Dragon. Each time, the agony had been unbearable.

But this was unprecedented. It was true pain—starting from his skin, seeping into his blood, piercing his heart. His fingertip felt like it was burning, and indeed, it was. A white flower bloomed there, its holy yet sinister glow consuming his flesh bit by bit.

Meanwhile, another flame surged from Yang Hao’s dantian—a black fire he hadn’t even known existed within him. But as the Great Radiance Technique attacked, this black fire stirred, rising unbidden to clash with the white light.

Yang Hao writhed in agony.

Light and darkness—two opposing forces—converged within his body. Perhaps he didn’t realize it, but this was a pivotal moment in history. Across eons of cosmic existence, countless lives had risen and fallen, as if waiting for this very instant.

All Yang Hao felt was tearing. He couldn’t know that the black flame was the transformed dark power of the Black Dragon’s breath. When it collided with the light-based technique, the energy released stemmed from the universe’s deepest secrets.

Even the birth and destruction of the cosmos originated from such energy.

But Yang Hao was caught in a vortex. Two utterly different forces surged into him, shredding every inch of his skin, meridians, and blood. He was nearly torn apart.

“Ah!!! Ah!!!!!” Yang Hao screamed. Light pierced through his roaring mouth, his palms, his heart, his limbs—everything was engulfed.

White light and black light merged, creating a spectacle of surreal beauty. Yang Hao was now a blazing figure in the sky, a roaring flame above the clouds.

The most shocked were the high-ranking divine beings watching. Yun Shang and Cadis could no longer speak. Only they understood what was happening, yet even they refused to believe it—for this was a legend, a tale even the divine races considered myth.

To trace this legend’s origin, one had to go back to the birth of the universe. The cosmos everyone lived in stemmed from a mysterious explosion billions of years ago—the Big Bang from the cosmic singularity, history’s greatest enigma. From that explosion came the vast universe, stars, life, divine races, and ordinary beings.

At the same time, two forces emerged: light and darkness. These opposing powers divided the divine races into two factions—one led by Yun Shang’s Radiant Angels, the other by Saan and the Cadis Dragons. The two factions were sworn enemies, locked in irreconcilable conflict.

Yet a legend persisted: if someone could merge light and darkness within themselves, they would surpass all divine power, becoming the invincible God of War—and ascend as the universe’s true ruler.

The Cosmic King.

But legends remained legends. No one had ever achieved this, for light and darkness were opposing forces—mutually destructive, canceling each other out. To unite them was near impossible.

Even if someone, by sheer chance, gathered both powers, balance was key. If one force dominated, the other would be suppressed, preventing the full potential from erupting. Only when light and darkness reached perfect equilibrium could one become the God of Radiance.

Among the Cadis Dragons, legends spoke of three dragon-breath baptisms to ascend as a dragon.

Among the light-aligned divine races, three infusions of radiant power could forge a god.

In truth, these spoke of the same thing. The true Cosmic King had to endure six near-fatal transformations.

The first was baptism by the Black Dragon’s breath, the second by the Golden Dragon’s—the dragon race’s mightiest—and the third by the apocalyptic trial of a thousand dragons.

On the light side, the first was the Great Radiance Technique’s baptism. The latter two remained unknown, for none had ever experienced them.

This was the so-called twist of fate. At Dragon Cliff, Yang Hao had endured the Black Dragon’s breath thanks to Hunyuanzi’s Dragon Breath Pill, completing his first transformation. Now, Saan’s Great Radiance Technique was the first baptism of light.

If Yang Hao survived, he would become the world’s most miraculous anomaly—the first to merge light and darkness, a candidate for the Cosmic King ordained by the Creator.

“Impossible!!” Yun Shang stared at the roaring flames in the sky, within which Yang Hao’s body was nowhere to be seen—caught between light and darkness.

“Roar!!” The Cadis Black Dragon howled at the sky, sensing the world tremble. The heavens, the earth, even the clouds underwent subtle shifts—as if trembling in anticipation of the king’s arrival.

The world darkened, then blazed with light. The clouds parted, revealing the sky’s purest blue.

The fierce flames around Yang Hao and Saan’s radiant sphere vanished in a deafening explosion—so powerful even the divine races couldn’t endure it. Space itself quaked, sending Dark Angels tumbling from the skies.

The divine and demonic races on the ground fared no better. Lower-tier beings like Xinmei collapsed, barely enduring this divine earthquake.

The cataclysmic tremors lasted ten full minutes, nearly leveling every structure in the divine realm. Only then could people see what had happened in the sky.

This was the aftermath of an explosion—the collision between Yang Hao’s transforming body and Saan’s Great Radiance Technique. In such an explosion, only one survivor was possible.

The outcome was clear. If Saan’s Great Radiance Technique prevailed, Yang Hao would die—unable to complete his transformation, unfit to be the Cosmic King’s candidate.

If Yang Hao won, Saan would perish. Only by withstanding the Great Radiance Technique could Yang Hao prove his miracle.

Despite the lingering tremors, the divine races below eagerly looked skyward. Whether in disappointment or relief, they first saw Saan standing unharmed on the clouds—cold and aloof as ever, his six silver-glowing wings now folded back into pure black.

Yang Hao, however, was a charred wreck, seemingly roasted alive as he plummeted to the ground, landing motionless with no signs of life.

Divine senses revealed that though no flames were visible on Yang Hao’s body, an inner fire still raged within him. Soon, it would consume him entirely.

“He lost,” Cadis growled. “And losers die. He is not the savior.”

Yun Shang’s face twitched, but he remained silent. There was no refuting the Black Dragon. The facts were clear: Yang Hao had lost, died, failed the first baptism of power fusion. He was not the Creator’s chosen king.

Yun Shang sighed, feeling utterly drained. He lacked even the strength to extinguish the flames within Yang Hao. All divine beings watched as the fire slowly devoured Yang Hao’s dwindling life. To them, if he wasn’t the savior, he was expendable—worthless.

Only one voice could change everything.

Saan’s icy words fell from the sky: “He won.”

“Won?” Cadis roared in disbelief. Yang Hao was at death’s door, while Saan stood unscathed. The victor was obvious.

But soon, the dragon fell silent, gaping at something drifting down from the sky—a single feather, insignificant yet unyielding, descending from the sun’s source through time and clouds.

This feather had once been black—pure, demonic black. But as it fell, its color faded to gray, then white, until it landed as a gleaming silver feather.

It had fallen from the Dark Angel King’s wing.

Uproar ensued. Everyone knew an angel’s feathers were fused with their wings—symbols of power. To pluck a feather was to sever a wing.

Saan’s lost feather meant Yang Hao had prevailed in their clash. His flames could have torn Saan’s wings, yet only a single feather had fallen.

This didn’t mean Yang Hao surpassed Saan, but it proved the Great Radiance Technique hadn’t harmed him. Instead, it had strengthened him, completing his baptism—the fusion of light and darkness.

Though Yang Hao lay charred and motionless, his life ebbing under the inner flames, he had indeed passed the trial.

Still, no divine being moved to extinguish his fire—stunned into inaction, forgetting that Yang Hao had mere seconds left before the backlash consumed him entirely.

Silence replaced breath, freezing time itself. The world stood still, save for Yang Hao’s dwindling life—perhaps just a flicker away from extinction.

Yet the divine races remained statues.

Then, a breeze swept in, carrying moist droplets of blue rain. Where they touched Yang Hao’s body, they seeped in, cooling and quenching the inner flames.

With the rain and wind came a stranger—a man in his thirties with snow-white hair, an air of roguish charm, and a faint smirk. He approached Yang Hao, his expression softening as if seeing his own child. With a wave, the wind and rain dispersed.

Yang Hao stirred weakly, forcing open his scorched eyelids to meet the stranger’s gaze.

For some reason, warmth surged in Yang Hao’s heart, welling into tears. His lips trembled as he whispered, “Master…”

Then, he passed out once more.

The stranger smiled warmly, lifting Yang Hao’s frail form. Without a glance at the stunned divine beings, he strode away, head held high.

In the buried divine-demon war, the final hall of the Light Angels was besieged by the Dark Angel army. The two sides fought until the battlefield was littered with corpses. Finally, the Dark Angels were about to achieve total victory. But at a crucial moment, the twelve-winged Light Angel finally used this forbidden technique. Endless bright white light poured out from the hall, illuminating the wings of the Dark Angels, causing their evil wings to wither and fall off. This technique killed over ten thousand Dark Angels, instantly reversing the battle tide.

No matter what, even if Saan could survive with Yun Shang’s rescue, for a proud king, it was already no different from death. A true Dark Emperor would never allow others to save him.

The Cadis Dragons would never intervene, for they knew well that Saan would rather die than accept outside help.

The Invisible Sword had revealed itself, yet it now carried an even more formidable, swifter, and unimaginable force—unstoppable and crushing, it descended toward Saan’s head with the weight of ten thousand mountains. Saan had nothing to block it.

Yet he raised his head and smiled. His handsome, almost demonically charming face bore a smile no one could decipher—a smile so profound it could pierce the soul.

Then, starting from Saan’s long hair, his face, his shoulders, his slender body, and every part of him erupted with a radiance so intense it defied human description. This light surpassed even the brilliance of a hundred thousand suns. The others present had to shield their eyes with their power to avoid being blinded.

Saan was entirely enveloped by this light, which resembled the universe’s first great explosion—all energy concentrated into a single point before bursting forth. Or perhaps it was like the first ray of light after ten thousand years of darkness, illuminating all shadows while turning all brightness into darkness.

This unimaginable radiance slowly expanded, carrying an extraordinary force that seemed unstoppable. Yang Hao’s Invisible Sword appeared utterly insignificant in the face of such power, flung away without even making contact.

“Great Radiance Technique! Damn it, it’s the Great Radiance Technique!!” Cadis Dragon suddenly roared in fury. The dragons swiftly spread their wings, wrapping themselves tightly within.

Compared to others, the demonic clans fared slightly better. The mid and lower-tier demons suffered far worse—their bodies wreathed in thick black smoke, clearly scorched by the light.

This was no surprise. Though they were all part of the divine races, the demonic clans, who ruled over darkness, were inherently attuned to shadow. Their mortal enemy was light. And now, Saan had unleashed the highest technique of radiance—the Great Radiance Technique. Fortunately, its target was not the demons below, or countless lives would have been lost.

The Great Radiance Technique was revered as the supreme art among the divine races. Legends claimed that only the King of Radiant Angels could wield it. Few in this world had ever witnessed it, for those who did were often consumed by its brilliance, pierced by the Sword of Light.

In the buried war between gods and demons, the final sanctuary of the Radiant Angels was besieged by the Dark Angel legions. The battle raged until corpses littered the land, and victory seemed certain for the Dark Angels. But at the critical moment, the twelve-winged Radiant Angel unleashed this forbidden technique—an endless torrent of blinding white light surged from the sanctuary, withering the evil wings of the Dark Angels. That single technique slaughtered ten thousand Dark Angels, reversing the tide of war.

Since then, none dared attack the Radiant Angels’ sanctuary, for within its walls lay the Great Radiance Technique, a power capable of annihilating any who bore darkness.

Yet now, the long-dormant Great Radiance Technique had resurfaced. And what truly shocked all was that the one wielding it was none other than Saan, the King of Dark Angels.

A ruler of darkness, unleashing the highest art of light—was Saan truly the union of darkness and radiance, an invincible god beyond all challenge?

Amid the demons’ howls, Saan’s light did not fade. Instead, it grew brighter, expanding further, even creeping toward Yang Hao in the distance.

Yang Hao was now reaping the consequences of his actions. He had assumed the divine races were like his past foes—easy to ambush and defeat. But how could he have known the weight a king placed on his dignity? A king could die, could perish, but he could never be defeated. Thus, Saan would rather risk harming his own kind, risk altering the heavens and earth, than allow an ordinary man to harm him—not even a single feather.

The unstoppable Great Radiance Technique drew closer to Yang Hao. He felt its oppressive force fully. He had always believed only darkness was evil, yet under this blinding pressure, he sensed a sinister aura—one laced with enchantment, intoxicating yet fatal.

Yang Hao couldn’t move, yet he wasn’t surprised, as if this outcome had been foretold. Perhaps, for him now, fighting the Dark King and witnessing this peerless technique before death was the best ending he could hope for.

The white sphere of the Great Radiance Technique expanded rapidly, devouring everything around it—air, sunlight, clouds, even time itself—engulfed by endless white. At an unimaginable speed, the light reached Yang Hao. When the first ray touched his fingertip—

He felt pain.

This pain was unlike any before. Yang Hao had suffered many times—when wounded by enemies, when his beloved died for him, when loyal subjects were buried, even when Hunyuanzi was devoured by the Black Dragon. Each time, the agony had overwhelmed him.

But this was unprecedented. It was true pain—starting from his skin, seeping into his blood, piercing his heart. His fingertip burned, and indeed, it was burning. A white flower bloomed there, its holy yet sinister glow consuming his flesh bit by bit.

Meanwhile, another flame surged from Yang Hao’s dantian—a black fire, buried within him unnoticed until now. As the Great Radiance Technique struck, the black fire stirred, rising unbidden to clash with the white.

Yang Hao writhed in torment.

Light and darkness, forces of opposing natures, converged within him. Perhaps he didn’t realize it, but this was a pivotal moment—an epochal instant the universe had awaited since time immemorial.

All Yang Hao felt was tearing. How could he know the black flame was the transformed essence of the Black Dragon’s breath? When it collided with the radiant technique, the energy unleashed stemmed from the universe’s deepest secrets.

Even the birth and destruction of the cosmos originated from such power.

Yet Yang Hao was caught in a vortex, two opposing energies flooding his body, shredding every inch of his skin, meridians, and blood. He was nearly torn apart.

“Ah!!! Ah!!!!!” Yang Hao screamed. Light pierced his roaring mouth, his palms, his heart, his limbs—everything was bathed in radiance.

White and black light merged, creating a spectacle of unparalleled beauty. Yang Hao was engulfed in dazzling flames, burning midair above the clouds.

The most shocked were the high-ranking divine beings watching. Yun Shang and Cadis Dragon were speechless. Only they understood what was happening, yet even they found it impossible—a legend even among gods.

To trace this legend’s origin, one must return to the universe’s birth. The cosmos everyone lived in stemmed from a mysterious explosion eons ago—the Big Bang from the singularity, history’s greatest enigma. From it came the boundless universe, stars, life, gods, and mortal beings.

After the explosion, two forces emerged—light and darkness, distinct and opposing. The divine races, aligned with these forces, split into two factions: one led by Yun Shang’s Radiant Angels, the other by Saan and the Cadis Dragons. These factions were irreconcilable enemies.

Yet a legend persisted: if one could merge light and darkness within themselves, they would surpass all divine power, becoming the invincible God of War—the universe’s true ruler.

But legends remained legends. None had ever achieved this, for light and darkness were opposing forces—mutually destructive, canceling each other out. To unite them was near impossible.

Even if someone, by chance, harbored both, balance was key. When one force dominated, the other was suppressed, preventing true power from emerging. Only when light and darkness reached perfect equilibrium could one ascend as the God of Radiance.

Among the Cadis Dragons, legends spoke of three baptisms by dragon breath transforming one into a dragon.

Among the Radiant Angels, three infusions of light could elevate one to godhood.

In truth, these spoke of the same path. The true ruler of the universe had to endure six near-fatal transformations.

The first was baptism by the Black Dragon’s breath, the second by the Golden Dragon’s—the highest among dragons—and the third was the trial of a thousand dragons.

For light, the first was the Great Radiance Technique. The latter two remained unknown, for none had lived to experience them.

This was fate’s design. At Dragon Cliff, Yang Hao, aided by Hunyuanzi’s Dragon Breath Pill, survived the Black Dragon’s breath—his first transformation. Now, Saan’s Great Radiance Technique was light’s first trial.

If Yang Hao endured, he would become the world’s greatest miracle—the first to merge light and darkness, a candidate for the universe’s divine ruler.

“Impossible!!” Yun Shang stared at the blazing flames in the sky, within which Yang Hao’s form was indiscernible—caught between light and darkness.

“Roar!!” The Cadis Black Dragon howled at the sky, sensing the world tremble. The heavens, the earth, even the clouds shifted subtly—as if trembling in anticipation of a king’s arrival.

The world darkened, then blazed anew. The clouds parted, revealing a pristine blue sky.

The flames around Yang Hao and Saan’s radiant sphere vanished in a deafening explosion—a sound so vast even the divine races recoiled. Space itself quaked, sending Dark Angels tumbling from the clouds.

Those below fared no better. Lower-tier beings like Xinmei collapsed, enduring the divine realm’s cataclysmic quake.

The earth-shaking tremor lasted ten minutes, toppling nearly every structure in the divine realm. Only then could the aftermath be seen.

This was the aftermath of an explosion—the collision between Yang Hao’s transforming body and Saan’s Great Radiance Technique. In such an explosion, only one survivor remained.

The outcome was clear: if Saan’s technique prevailed, Yang Hao would die, his transformation incomplete. If Yang Hao won, Saan would fall—proving his miracle.

Despite lingering tremors, the divine races below craned their necks, unsure whether to despair or rejoice. Their first sight was Saan, standing unharmed upon the clouds, his six silver-tinged wings now folded into pure black.

Yang Hao, however, was a charred wreck—seemingly roasted alive. He plummeted from the sky, crashing lifelessly to the ground.

Divine senses revealed no visible flames, yet true fire raged within him. Soon, it would consume him entirely.

“He lost,” Cadis Dragon growled. “Defeat means death. He is no savior.”

Yun Shang’s face twitched, but he remained silent. There was no refuting the Black Dragon. The facts were plain—Yang Hao had failed, died, unworthy of the creator’s chosen path.

Yun Shang sighed, drained of strength, unable even to extinguish the flames devouring Yang Hao. To the divine races, if Yang Hao was not the prophesied one, he was expendable.

Only one voice could change everything.

Saan’s icy words fell from the sky: “He won.”

“Won?” Cadis Dragon roared in disbelief. Yang Hao lay dying, while Saan stood unscathed. The victor was obvious.

Yet soon, the dragon fell silent. Something drifted down from the sky—a single feather, insignificant at any other time, but now, everything.

The feather, once pure black, lightened as it fell—turning gray, then white, finally landing as a gleaming silver strand.

It had fallen from the Dark Angel King’s wing.

All knew an angel’s feathers were part of their wings—their power. To pluck one was to sever their strength.

Saan’s lost feather meant Yang Hao had triumphed. His flames could have torn Saan’s wings, yet only a single feather fell.

This did not mean Yang Hao surpassed Saan, but clearly, the Great Radiance Technique had not destroyed him. Instead, it had tempered him—completing his first fusion of light and darkness.

Though charred and motionless, Yang Hao had endured the trial.

Still, no divine being moved to quench his inner flames—stunned into inaction, forgetting he had mere seconds left to live.

Silence reigned, time itself frozen. Only Yang Hao’s life ebbed away.

Then, a breeze swept in, carrying dampness. Blue raindrops fell, seeping into Yang Hao’s skin, cooling the flames within.

With the rain came a stranger—a man in his thirties with snow-white hair, his face grave yet tinged with roguish charm.

He approached Yang Hao, warmth flickering in his eyes as if beholding his own child. With a wave, the wind and rain ceased.

Yang Hao stirred weakly, eyelids fluttering open to meet the stranger’s gaze.

For some reason, warmth surged in Yang Hao’s heart, tears welling as he whispered, trembling, “Master…”

Then, darkness took him once more.

The stranger smiled tenderly, lifting Yang Hao’s frail form. Ignoring the stunned divine races, he strode away without a word.

No matter what, even if Saan could survive with Yun Shang’s help, for a proud king, it was already no different from death. A true Dark Emperor would never allow others to save him.

The Cadis Dragons would never intervene, for they knew well that Saan would rather die than accept interference.

The Invisible Sword had revealed itself, but it now carried an even more formidable, faster, and inconceivable force—unstoppable and crushing, descending upon Saan’s head with the weight of ten thousand mountains. Saan had nothing to block it.

Yet, he raised his head and smiled. His handsome, almost demonically charming face bore a smile no one could decipher—a profoundly unsettling grin that seemed capable of piercing straight into the soul.

Then, from his long hair to his face, his shoulders, his slender body, and every part of him, an unbearably bright light erupted. This radiance was beyond human description, surpassing even the brilliance of a hundred thousand suns. The others present had to shield their eyes with their power to avoid being blinded.

Saan was entirely engulfed by the light, which resembled the first great explosion of the universe—condensing all energy into a single point before erupting. Or perhaps it was like the first ray of light after ten thousand years of darkness, illuminating all shadows and turning all brightness into darkness.

This unimaginable brilliance slowly expanded, carrying an extraordinary force that seemed utterly unstoppable. Yang Hao’s Invisible Sword appeared laughably insignificant in the face of such power, flung away without even making contact.

“Great Radiance Technique! Damn it, it’s the Great Radiance Technique!!” Cadis roared furiously as the dragons swiftly wrapped their wings around themselves.

Compared to others, the demonic dragons fared better. The mid and lower-tier demons suffered far worse—their bodies emitting thick black smoke, clearly scorched by the light.

This was no surprise. Though they were all part of the divine races, the dark-aligned demons were inherently attuned to darkness, making light their mortal enemy. The Great Radiance Technique Saan had unleashed was the pinnacle of light-based magic. Fortunately, its target wasn’t the demons below, or countless lives would have been lost.

The Great Radiance Technique was revered as the supreme art among the divine races. Legends claimed only the King of Radiant Angels could wield it. Few in this world had ever witnessed it, for those who had were often consumed by its brilliance, pierced through by the Sword of Light.

During the buried war between gods and demons, the final sanctuary of the Radiant Angels was besieged by the Dark Angel legions. The battle raged until corpses littered the land, with the Dark Angels on the verge of total victory. But at the critical moment, the twelve-winged Radiant Angel unleashed this forbidden technique—an endless surge of blinding white light erupted from the sanctuary, withering the wings of the Dark Angels and slaying thousands in an instant, reversing the tide of war.

From then on, none dared assault the Radiant Angels’ sanctuary, for the Great Radiance Technique, inscribed within its walls, stood ready to annihilate any who bore darkness.

Yet now, the long-dormant Great Radiance Technique had resurfaced. What truly shocked all was that its wielder was none other than Saan, the King of Dark Angels.

A ruler of darkness had unleashed the supreme art of light. Was Saan truly the union of darkness and light—the invincible god none in this world could ever defeat?

Amid the demons’ agonized screams, Saan’s radiance did not wane. Instead, it grew brighter, expanding further, even creeping toward Yang Hao in the distance.

Yang Hao was now reaping the consequences of his actions. He had assumed the divine races were like his past foes—easy to ambush and defeat. But how could he have known the weight a king placed on his dignity? A king could die, could perish, but he could never be defeated. Thus, Saan risked harming his kin and altering the very fabric of the world to unleash the Great Radiance Technique. He would never allow a mere mortal to harm him—not even a single feather.

The unstoppable Great Radiance Technique closed in on Yang Hao. He felt its oppressive force firsthand. He had always believed darkness alone was evil, yet under this blinding white pressure, he sensed an eerie malevolence—seductive, intoxicating, but fatal in its embrace.

Yang Hao couldn’t even move, yet he wasn’t surprised. This outcome seemed inevitable. Perhaps, for him at this moment, battling the Dark King and witnessing this peerless technique before death was the best possible end.

The white radiance of the Great Radiance Technique expanded rapidly, devouring everything—air, sunlight, clouds, even time itself—engulfed by its endless brilliance. At unimaginable speed, the light reached Yang Hao’s body. The moment its first tendril touched his fingertip—

Yang Hao felt pain.

But this pain was unlike any before. He had endured pain many times—when wounded by enemies, when his loved ones died for him, when loyal subjects were buried, even when Hunyuanzi was devoured by the Black Dragon. Each time, the agony had overwhelmed him.

Yet this pain was unprecedented—true torment, searing his skin, invading his blood, piercing his heart. His fingertip burned, and indeed, it was aflame. A white flower bloomed there, its holy yet sinister glow consuming his flesh bit by bit.

Simultaneously, another fire erupted from Yang Hao’s dantian—a black flame, unnoticed until now. As the Great Radiance Technique struck, this dark fire surged forth, clashing violently with the white radiance.

Yang Hao writhed in unbearable agony.

Light and darkness—two opposing forces—converged within him. Unbeknownst to him, this was a pivotal moment in history. Across eons of cosmic existence, countless lives had risen and fallen, as if awaiting this very instant.

Yet all Yang Hao felt was tearing. He couldn’t know the black flame stemmed from the Black Dragon’s breath—a dark force now colliding with the light. The energy unleashed was the universe’s deepest secret, the very essence of creation and destruction.

But Yang Hao was caught in a vortex. Two opposing energies flooded his body, shredding his skin, meridians, and blood. He was on the verge of being torn apart.

“Ah!!! Ah!!!!!” Yang Hao screamed. The light pierced through his roaring mouth, his palms, his heart, his limbs—everything was engulfed.

White and black light merged, creating a spectacle of surreal beauty. Yang Hao, now a blazing figure, burned midair above the clouds—a swirling inferno.

The most stunned were the high-ranking divine beings watching. Yun Shang and Cadis were speechless. Only they understood what was happening, yet even they found it impossible—a legend even among gods.

To trace this legend’s origin, one must return to the universe’s birth. The cosmos emerged from a mysterious explosion eons ago—the Big Bang from a singularity, history’s greatest enigma. From it came the vast universe, stars, life, gods, and mortals.

Two forces arose from that explosion—light and darkness, distinct and opposing. The divine races split accordingly: Yun Shang’s Radiant Angels led one faction, while Saan and the Cadis Dragons led the other. These factions were eternal enemies.

Yet a legend persisted: if one could merge light and darkness within, they would surpass all divine power, becoming the invincible God of War—the universe’s true ruler.

But legends remained legends. None had ever achieved this, for light and darkness were antithetical—mutually destructive. To unite them was near impossible.

Even if someone, by chance, bore both forces, balance was key. One would always suppress the other, preventing full potential. Only when perfectly balanced could one ascend as the God of Light.

Among the Cadis Dragons, legends spoke of three dragon-breath baptisms transforming one into a dragon.

Among the Radiant Angels, three infusions of light could forge a god.

In truth, these were one and the same. The true Cosmic King required six near-fatal transformations.

The first was baptism by the Black Dragon’s breath, the second by the Golden Dragon’s, and the third by the gathered might of a thousand dragons.

For light, the first was the Great Radiance Technique. The latter two remained unknown, for none had endured them.

By sheer chance, Yang Hao had survived the Black Dragon’s breath at Dragon Cliff, thanks to Hunyuanzi’s Breath Pill—completing his first dark transformation. Now, Saan’s Great Radiance Technique offered the first light baptism.

If Yang Hao endured, he would become the universe’s most miraculous anomaly—the first to merge light and dark, a candidate for Cosmic God as ordained by creation itself.

“Impossible!!” Yun Shang stared at the blazing figure in the sky, where Yang Hao’s form was lost amidst the clashing forces.

“ROAR!!” The Cadis Black Dragon howled at the heavens, sensing the world tremble—the sky, earth, even clouds shifting subtly, as if trembling before a king’s arrival.

The world darkened, then flared anew. The clouds parted, revealing a pristine blue sky.

The flames around Yang Hao and Saan’s radiant sphere vanished in a deafening explosion—a shockwave so vast even the divine races staggered. The very fabric of space quaked, sending Dark Angels tumbling from the skies.

Those below fared no better. Lower-tier beings like Xinmei collapsed, enduring what felt like a divine earthquake.

The cataclysm lasted ten minutes, leveling structures across the divine realm. When the dust settled, only one survivor could emerge from such an explosion.

If Saan’s Great Radiance Technique prevailed, Yang Hao would die—his transformation incomplete, his candidacy void.

If Yang Hao won, Saan would fall—proving even the Great Radiance Technique couldn’t stop him, cementing his miracle.

Despite aftershocks, the divine races craned their necks skyward. Whether in relief or dismay, they saw Saan standing unharmed upon the clouds, his six silver-lined wings now folded into pure black.

Yang Hao, however, was a charred wreck—seemingly roasted alive as he plummeted to the ground, motionless, devoid of life.

Divine senses revealed invisible flames still raging within him. Soon, they would consume him entirely.

“He lost,” Cadis growled. “Loss means death. He was no savior.”

Yun Shang’s face twitched, but he stayed silent. The evidence was clear—Yang Hao had failed the first trial. He wasn’t the chosen one.

With a sigh, Yun Shang felt drained, too disheartened to even extinguish Yang Hao’s inner flames. All watched as the fire devoured his dwindling life. To them, if he wasn’t the savior, he was expendable.

Only one voice could change everything.

Saan’s icy words fell from the sky: “He won.”

“Won?” Cadis roared. Impossible—Yang Hao was at death’s door, while Saan stood unscathed. The outcome was obvious.

Yet soon, the dragon fell silent. Something drifted down from the sky—a single feather, insignificant yet resolute, shifting from black to gray, then white, finally landing as a gleaming silver strand.

A feather from the Dark Angel King’s wing.

Gasps erupted. An angel’s feathers were part of their wings—their power. To dislodge one was to wound the angel itself.

Saan’s lost feather meant Yang Hao had prevailed. His flames could have torn Saan’s wings, yet only a feather fell.

This didn’t mean Yang Hao surpassed Saan, but clearly, the Great Radiance Technique hadn’t destroyed him. Instead, it had tempered him—completing his first fusion of light and dark.

Though Yang Hao lay charred and dying, he had endured the trial.

Still, none moved to save him—stunned into inaction, forgetting his imminent death as the backlash consumed him.

Silence reigned, time itself frozen. Only Yang Hao’s life flickered away.

Then, a breeze stirred—carrying moist droplets that seeped into his skin, cooling the flames within.

A stranger approached—a man in his thirties with snow-white hair, his face grave yet tinged with roguish charm. He gazed at Yang Hao with unexpected warmth, as if beholding his own child, and waved away the wind and rain.

Yang Hao stirred weakly, forcing open scorched eyelids to meet the stranger’s eyes.

For some reason, warmth flooded his heart, tears welling as he rasped, “Master…”

Then, darkness took him once more.

The stranger smiled tenderly, lifting Yang Hao’s frail form. Ignoring the stunned onlookers, he strode away without a word.

A king of darkness had used the highest technique representing light. Could Sa’an really be the embodiment of both darkness and light, an invincible god in this world?

Amidst the howls of the demon race, Sa’an’s light did not stop but grew brighter and expanded further, even beginning to slowly spread toward the distant Yang Hao.

No matter what, even if Saan could survive with Yun Shang’s rescue, for a proud king, it was already no different from death. A true Dark Emperor would never allow others to save him.

The Cadis Dragons would never intervene because they knew Saan would rather die than accept interference.

The Invisible Sword had revealed itself, but it now carried an even more powerful, faster, and unimaginable force, unstoppable and weighing like a mountain as it thrust toward Saan’s head. Saan had nothing to block it.

Yet he raised his head and smiled. His handsome, almost demonically charming face bore a smile no one could decipher—a smile so profound it could pierce the soul.

Then, starting from Saan’s long hair, his face, his shoulders, his slender body, and every part of him erupted with a light so intense it defied human description. Not even a hundred thousand suns could rival it. The others present had to shield their eyes with their power to avoid being blinded.

Saan was entirely enveloped in that radiant sphere. The immense light resembled the universe’s first great explosion, condensing all energy into a single point before bursting forth. Or perhaps it was like the first ray of light after ten thousand years of darkness, turning all darkness into light and all light into darkness.

This unimaginable brilliance slowly expanded, carrying an extraordinary force that seemed unstoppable. Yang Hao’s Invisible Sword appeared utterly insignificant in the face of such power—it didn’t even make contact before being flung away to who-knows-where.

“Great Radiance Technique! Damn it, it’s the Great Radiance Technique!!” Cadis roared furiously as the dragons swiftly wrapped their wings around themselves.

Compared to the demons, they fared better. The mid and lower-tier demons suffered miserably under the unstoppable radiance, their bodies emitting thick black smoke as they were scorched by the light.

This was no surprise. Though they were all part of the divine races, the dark-aligned demons were inherently attuned to darkness—their mortal enemy was light. And now, Saan had unleashed the highest-tier technique of the light faction. Fortunately, his target wasn’t the demons below, or countless lives would have been lost.

The Great Radiance Technique was revered as the supreme art among the divine races. Legends said only the King of Radiant Angels could wield it. Few in this world had ever witnessed it, for those who did were often consumed by its brilliance, pierced through by the Sword of Light.

During the buried God-Demon War, the final stronghold of the Radiant Angels was besieged by the Dark Angel army. The battle raged until corpses littered the field, and the Dark Angels were on the verge of total victory. But at the critical moment, the twelve-winged Great Radiant Angel unleashed this forbidden technique. Endless white radiance poured from the stronghold, shining upon the Dark Angels’ wings, causing the evil appendages to wither and fall. That single technique slaughtered ten thousand Dark Angels, reversing the tide of war in an instant.

From then on, no one dared attack the Radiant Angels’ stronghold again, for the demons knew the Great Radiance Technique was inscribed within its walls, ready to annihilate any who bore darkness.

Yet now, the long-dormant Great Radiance Technique had reappeared. What truly shocked everyone was that the one wielding it was none other than Saan, the King of Dark Angels.

A ruler of darkness had unleashed the highest technique of light. Could it be that Saan was truly the fusion of darkness and light—the invincible god of this world?

Amid the demons’ agonized screams, Saan’s radiance did not fade. Instead, it grew brighter and larger, slowly creeping toward Yang Hao in the distance.

Yang Hao was now reaping the consequences of his actions. He had assumed the divine races were like his past opponents—easy to ambush and defeat. But he never imagined how fiercely a king guarded his dignity. A king could die, could perish, but could never be defeated. Thus, Saan risked harming his own kind and altering the very fabric of the world to unleash the Great Radiance Technique. He would never allow an ordinary man to harm him—not even a single feather.

The unstoppable Great Radiance Technique drew closer to Yang Hao. He could feel the oppressive weight of its brilliance. He had always believed darkness alone was evil, yet under this blinding white pressure, he sensed a sinister aura—one laced with enchantment, intoxicating yet fatal.

Yang Hao couldn’t move, but he wasn’t surprised. This outcome seemed inevitable. Perhaps, for him at this moment, battling the Dark King and witnessing this supreme technique before death was the best possible ending.

The white sphere of the Great Radiance Technique rapidly expanded, devouring everything around it—air, sunlight, clouds, even time itself—engulfed by the endless white. At an unimaginable speed, the light reached Yang Hao’s body. The moment the first ray touched his fingertip—

Yang Hao felt pain.

This pain was unlike any before. He had suffered many times—when wounded by enemies, when his loved ones died for him, when loyal subjects were buried, even when Hunyuanzi was devoured by the Black Dragon. Each time, the agony had been unbearable.

But this time, it was unprecedented. The pain originated from his skin, seeped into his blood, and pierced his heart. His fingertip felt like it was burning—and indeed, it was. A white flower bloomed there, its holy yet sinister radiance consuming his flesh bit by bit.

Simultaneously, another flame surged from Yang Hao’s dantian—a black fire he hadn’t even known existed within him. But as the Great Radiance Technique attacked, the black fire stirred, rushing forth to clash with the white light.

Yang Hao writhed in unbearable agony.

Light and darkness—two opposing forces—converged within his body. Perhaps he didn’t realize it, but this was a pivotal moment in history. Across the vast expanse of time, countless lives had risen and fallen, as if waiting for this very instant.

All Yang Hao felt was tearing. He couldn’t know that the black flame was the transformed dark power of the Black Dragon’s breath. When it collided with the light-aligned technique, the energy released stemmed from the universe’s deepest secrets.

Even the birth and destruction of the cosmos originated from such energy.

But Yang Hao was caught in a vortex. Two opposing forces surged into his body, shredding every inch of his skin, meridians, and blood. He was on the verge of being torn apart.

“Ah!!! Ah!!!!!!” Yang Hao screamed. The light pierced through his roaring mouth, his palms, his heart, his limbs—everything was engulfed.

White and black light intertwined, creating a breathtaking spectacle. Yang Hao was entirely consumed by the magnificent flames, burning midair above the clouds like a blazing inferno.

The most shocked were the high-ranking divine beings watching. Yun Shang and Cadis were speechless. Only they understood what was happening, yet even they found it impossible—even with the evidence before their eyes. Because this was a legend, a story even the divine races regarded as myth.

To trace this legend’s origin, one had to go back to the birth of the universe. The cosmos everyone lived in now stemmed from a mysterious explosion billions of years ago—the Big Bang from the singularity, history’s greatest enigma. After that explosion came the boundless universe, stars, life, divine races, and ordinary beings.

Simultaneously, two forces emerged: light and darkness. These opposing powers divided the divine races into two factions—one led by Yun Shang’s Radiant Angels, the other by Saan and the Cadis Dragons. The two factions were sworn enemies, locked in irreconcilable conflict.

Yet a legend persisted: if someone could fuse light and darkness within themselves, they would surpass all divine power, becoming the invincible God of War—and ascend as the universe’s ruler.

The Cosmic Emperor.

But legends remained legends. No one had ever achieved this, for light and darkness were fundamentally incompatible. They canceled each other out, clashed, and harmed one another. To unite them was near-impossible.

Even if someone, by sheer chance, merged both powers, balance was key. If one force dominated, the other would be suppressed, preventing the full potential from emerging. Only when light and darkness reached perfect equilibrium could one become the God of Radiance.

Among the Cadis Dragons, legends spoke of three dragon-breath baptisms transforming one into a dragon.

The light-aligned divine races had their own legend: three infusions of radiant power to ascend to godhood.

In truth, both spoke of the same thing. The true Cosmic Emperor had to endure six near-death transformations.

The first was the baptism of the Cadis Black Dragon’s breath. The second was the infusion of the Golden Dragon’s breath—the highest power among dragons. The third was the apocalyptic trial of a thousand dragons.

On the light side, the first was the Great Radiance Technique’s baptism. The latter two remained unknown, for no one had ever experienced them.

This was the so-called twist of fate. At Dragon Cliff, Yang Hao had endured the Black Dragon’s breath thanks to Hunyuanzi’s Dragon Breath Pill, completing his first transformation. And now, Saan’s Great Radiance Technique was the first baptism of light.

If Yang Hao survived, he would become the world’s most incredible miracle—the first to fuse light and darkness, a candidate for the Cosmic Emperor ordained by the Creator.

“This can’t be!!” Yun Shang stared at the blazing inferno in the sky. Yang Hao’s body was invisible within the flames, caught in the struggle between light and darkness.

“Roar!!” The Cadis Black Dragon howled at the sky, sensing the world tremble. The heavens, the earth, even the clouds subtly shifted—as if trembling in anticipation of a king’s arrival.

The world darkened abruptly, then blazed with light. The clouds dispersed, revealing a pristine blue sky.

The violent flames around Yang Hao and Saan’s radiant sphere vanished in a deafening explosion. The shockwave was so immense even the divine races couldn’t endure it. Space itself quaked, sending the Dark Angels tumbling from the clouds.

The divine and demonic races on the ground fared no better. Lower-tier beings like Xinmei collapsed, barely enduring the divine realm’s super earthquake.

The cataclysmic tremors lasted ten full minutes, nearly leveling every structure in the divine realm. Only then could people see what had happened in the sky.

This was the aftermath of an explosion—the collision between Yang Hao’s transforming body and Saan’s Great Radiance Technique. In such an explosion, only one survivor was possible.

The outcome was clear. If Saan’s Great Radiance Technique prevailed, Yang Hao would die—a corpse couldn’t complete the transformation, nor become the Cosmic Emperor’s candidate.

But if Yang Hao won, Saan would perish. Only by withstanding the Great Radiance Technique could Yang Hao prove his miracle.

Despite the lingering aftershocks, the divine races below craned their necks skyward. Whether in disappointment or relief, the first thing they saw was Saan standing unharmed on the clouds, his usual icy, aloof demeanor intact. His six pairs of wings, which shimmered silver when spread, were now folded back into pure black.

Yang Hao, however, was a charred wreck—utterly roasted, plummeting from the sky and crashing lifelessly to the ground.

The divine races’ spiritual senses detected no visible flames on Yang Hao’s body, but the true fire still raged within him. Soon, it would consume him entirely.

“He lost,” Cadis growled. “Losers die. He wasn’t the savior.”

Yun Shang’s face twitched, but he remained silent. There was no refuting the Black Dragon. The facts were clear: Yang Hao had lost, died, failed the first fusion’s baptism. He wasn’t the Creator’s chosen king.

Yun Shang sighed, feeling utterly drained. He lacked even the strength to extinguish the flames devouring Yang Hao. All the divine races watched as the true fire slowly consumed Yang Hao’s dwindling life. To them, if he wasn’t the savior, he was expendable—worthless.

Only one voice could change everything.

Saan’s icy words dropped from the sky: “He won.”

“Won?” Cadis roared in disbelief. Yang Hao was at death’s door, while Saan stood unscathed. The victor was obvious.

But soon, the dragon fell silent, gaping at something drifting slowly down from the sky—a single feather, insignificant yet unyielding, descending from the sun’s source through time and clouds.

It was a feather—a tiny, inconsequential thing. Under normal circumstances, no one would care. But now, it was entirely different.

Because this feather had been black—pure, demonic black. Yet as it fell, its color lightened to gray, then white, until it landed as a gleaming silver feather.

It had fallen from the Dark Angel King Saan’s wings.

A collective gasp arose. Everyone knew an angel’s feathers were inseparable from their wings—and wings represented power.

To pluck an angel’s feather was akin to severing their wings.

Saan’s lost feather meant Yang Hao had prevailed in their clash. His flames could have torn Saan’s wings apart, yet for some reason, only a single feather had fallen.

This didn’t mean Yang Hao surpassed Saan, but it proved the Great Radiance Technique hadn’t harmed him. Instead, it had strengthened him, completing the first fusion of light and darkness.

Though Yang Hao lay charred and motionless, his life force dwindling under the internal flames, he had indeed passed the baptism.

Still, no divine being moved to save him—not out of indifference, but sheer shock. They stood frozen, forgetting Yang Hao had mere seconds left before the backlash’s true fire burned him to death.

Silence replaced breath, freezing time itself. The world seemed to pause, with only Yang Hao’s life flickering away. He might not last another moment.

Yet the divine races remained statues.

Then, a breeze swept in, carrying damp moisture. As it brushed Yang Hao’s body, blue raindrops fell from the wind, seeping into his skin and cooling the raging flames within.

Following the rain and wind, a stranger approached—a man in his thirties with snow-white hair cascading over his shoulders. His expression was solemn, yet a hint of roguish mischief lingered at his lips.

He walked to Yang Hao, his face softening with warmth as if gazing upon his own child. With a wave, the wind and rain dissipated.

Yang Hao stirred weakly, forcing his scorched eyelids open. The first face he saw was this unfamiliar stranger’s.

Yet inexplicably, warmth surged in Yang Hao’s heart, welling up as tears. His lips trembled as he whispered, “Master…”

Then, he fell unconscious again.

The stranger smiled tenderly, lifting Yang Hao’s frail form. Without a glance at the stunned divine races, he strode confidently into the distance.

No matter what, even if Saan could survive with Yun Shang’s rescue, for a proud king, it was already no different from death. A true Dark Emperor would never allow others to save him.

The Cadis Dragons would never intervene, for they knew well that Saan would rather die than accept interference.

The Invisible Sword had revealed itself, but it now carried an even more powerful, faster, and unimaginable force—unstoppable, weighing like a mountain—as it thrust toward Saan’s head. Saan had nothing to block it.

Yet he raised his head and smiled. His handsome, almost demonically charming face bore a smile no one could decipher—a smile so profound it could pierce the soul.

Then, starting from Saan’s long hair, his face, his shoulders, his slender body, and every part of him, erupted with a radiance so intense it defied human description. Not even hundreds of thousands of suns could rival it. The others present had to shield their eyes with their power to avoid being blinded.

Saan was entirely enveloped in that radiant sphere. The immense light was like the first great explosion of the universe, condensing all energy into a single point before erupting. Or like the first ray of light after ten thousand years of darkness, turning all darkness into light and all light into darkness.

This unimaginable brilliance slowly expanded, carrying an extraordinary force that seemed unstoppable. Yang Hao’s Invisible Sword appeared utterly insignificant in the face of such power—it didn’t even make contact before being flung away to who-knows-where.

**”Great Radiance Technique! Damn it, it’s the Great Radiance Technique!!”** Cadis the Dragon suddenly roared in fury. The dragons swiftly spread their wings, wrapping themselves completely.

Compared to them, the demons fared even worse. The mid and lower-tier demons were utterly devastated by this unstoppable light, their bodies emitting thick black smoke as they were scorched by the radiance.

This was no surprise. Though both belonged to the divine races, the dark-aligned demons were inherently attuned to darkness—their mortal enemy was light. And the Great Radiance Technique Saan had unleashed was the highest art of the light faction. Fortunately, its target wasn’t the demons below, or countless more would have perished.

The Great Radiance Technique was revered as the supreme art among the divine races. Legends said only the King of the Radiant Angels could wield it. Few in this world had ever witnessed it, for those who had were often consumed by the light, pierced through by its sword.

In the buried war of gods and demons, the last stronghold of the Radiant Angels was besieged by the Dark Angel legions. The battle raged until corpses littered the field, and victory seemed certain for the Dark Angels. But at the critical moment, a twelve-winged Radiant Angel unleashed this forbidden technique—an endless, blinding white light erupted from the stronghold, withering the wings of the Dark Angels. That single technique slaughtered tens of thousands of Dark Angels, reversing the tide of war.

From then on, none dared attack the Radiant Angels’ stronghold, for the Great Radiance Technique, with its infinite power, was inscribed within its walls, ready to annihilate any who bore darkness.

Yet now, after ages of silence, the Great Radiance Technique had reappeared. And what truly shocked all was that the one wielding it was none other than Saan, the King of the Dark Angels.

A ruler of darkness had unleashed the highest art of light. Could it be that Saan was truly the union of darkness and light—the invincible god of this world?

Amid the demons’ agonized screams, Saan’s radiance did not fade. Instead, it grew brighter, expanding further, even beginning to creep toward Yang Hao in the distance.

Yang Hao was now reaping the consequences. He had assumed the divine races were like his past foes—vulnerable to a single strike. But how could he have known the weight a king placed on his dignity? A king could die, could perish, but must never be defeated. Thus, Saan risked harming his own kind, risked upheaving the world itself, to unleash the Great Radiance Technique. He would never allow an ordinary man to harm him—not even a single feather.

The unstoppable Great Radiance Technique drew closer to Yang Hao. He felt its overwhelming pressure. He had always believed darkness alone was evil, yet under this blinding white force, he sensed something sinister—an allure both enchanting and deadly.

Yang Hao couldn’t move, yet he wasn’t surprised. This outcome seemed inevitable. Perhaps, for him at this moment, fighting the Dark King and witnessing this supreme technique before death was the best ending he could hope for.

The white sphere of the Great Radiance Technique rapidly expanded, devouring everything—air, sunlight, clouds, even time itself—engulfed by the endless white. At unimaginable speed, the light reached Yang Hao. When the first ray touched his fingertip—

He felt pain.

A pain unlike any before. Yang Hao had suffered many times—when wounded by enemies, when his loved ones died for him, when loyal subjects were buried, even when Hunyuanzi was devoured by the Black Dragon. But this pain was unprecedented—searing his skin, seeping into his blood, piercing his heart.

His fingertip burned, and indeed, it was burning. A white flower bloomed there, its holy yet sinister glow consuming his flesh bit by bit.

Then, another flame erupted from Yang Hao’s dantian—a black fire, unnoticed until now. As the Great Radiance Technique attacked, the black fire surged forth, clashing violently with the white light.

Yang Hao writhed in agony.

Light and darkness, forces of opposing natures, converged within him. Unbeknownst to him, this was a pivotal moment—an epochal instant the universe had awaited for eons.

All Yang Hao felt was tearing. He couldn’t know the black flame was the transformed essence of the Black Dragon’s breath, nor that its collision with the light’s power unleashed energies from the universe’s deepest secrets.

Even the birth and destruction of the cosmos stemmed from such energies.

Yet Yang Hao was caught in a vortex, two opposing forces shredding his skin, meridians, and blood. He was nearly torn apart.

**”Ah!!! Ah!!!!!”** Yang Hao screamed. The light pierced through his roaring mouth, his palms, his heart, his limbs—everything was engulfed.

White and black light merged, creating a spectacle of surreal beauty. Yang Hao burned within dazzling flames, suspended in the sky above the clouds.

The most stunned were the high-ranking divine beings watching. Yun Shang and Cadis the Dragon were speechless. Only they understood what was happening—yet even they refused to believe it. For this was a legend, a tale even the divine races considered myth.

To trace this legend’s origin, one must return to the birth of the universe. The cosmos all lived in now had begun with a mysterious explosion eons ago—the Big Bang from the cosmic singularity, history’s greatest enigma. From it emerged the boundless universe, stars, life, gods, and mortal beings.

With the explosion came two forces: light and darkness, distinct and opposing. The divine races aligned with these forces split into two factions—one led by Yun Shang’s Radiant Angels, the other by Saan and the Cadis Dragons. They were eternal enemies.

Yet a legend persisted: if one could merge light and darkness within themselves, they would surpass all divine power, becoming the invincible God of War—and ascend as the universe’s sovereign.

The Cosmic Emperor.

But legends remained legends. None had ever achieved this, for light and darkness were antithetical—mutually destructive, canceling each other out. To unite them was near impossible.

Even if someone, by chance, harbored both forces, balance was key. If one dominated, the other would be suppressed, preventing the full potential from manifesting. Only when light and darkness reached perfect equilibrium could one ascend as the God of Radiance.

Among the Cadis Dragons, legends spoke of three dragon-breath baptisms transforming one into a dragon.

Among the Radiant Angels, three infusions of light could forge a god.

In truth, these were one and the same. The true Cosmic Emperor had to endure six near-fatal metamorphoses.

The first was baptism by the Black Dragon’s breath, the second by the Golden Dragon’s (the highest among dragons), and the third by the apocalyptic trial of a thousand dragons.

For the light, the first was the Great Radiance Technique. The latter two remained unknown, for none had lived to experience them.

This was the convergence of fate. At Dragon Cliff, Yang Hao, aided by Hunyuanzi’s Dragon Breath Pill, endured the Black Dragon’s breath—his first metamorphosis. Now, Saan’s Great Radiance Technique was the first trial of light.

If Yang Hao survived, he would become the universe’s most miraculous wonder—the first to merge light and darkness, a candidate for Cosmic Emperor as ordained by the Creator.

**”Impossible!!”** Yun Shang stared at the blazing sphere in the sky. Yang Hao’s body was invisible within, caught between light and darkness.

**”Roar!!”** The Cadis Black Dragon howled at the sky, sensing the world tremble. The heavens, the earth, even the clouds shifted subtly—as if trembling before a coming sovereign.

The world darkened, then flashed brilliantly. The clouds parted, revealing a pristine blue sky.

The fierce flames around Yang Hao and Saan’s radiant sphere vanished in a deafening explosion—a blast so powerful even the divine races reeled. Space itself quaked, sending Dark Angels tumbling from the skies.

Demons and lesser gods fared worse. Xin Mei and others prostrated on the ground, enduring the divine realm’s cataclysmic quake.

The quake lasted ten minutes, toppling nearly every structure in the divine realm. When it subsided, all looked to the sky.

This was the aftermath of an explosion—the collision between Yang Hao’s transforming body and Saan’s Great Radiance Technique. In such a clash, only one could survive.

If Saan’s technique prevailed, Yang Hao would die—a corpse couldn’t complete the metamorphosis.

If Yang Hao won, Saan would perish. Only by overcoming the Great Radiance Technique could Yang Hao cement his miracle.

Despite lingering tremors, the gods below craned their necks, unsure whether to feel relief or dismay.

Saan stood unharmed upon the clouds, his six silver-glowing wings now folded into pure black.

Yang Hao, however, was a charred wreck, plummeting lifelessly to the ground. His body showed no signs of life.

Divine senses revealed invisible flames still raging within him. Soon, they would consume him entirely.

**”He lost,”** Cadis the Dragon growled. **”Loss means death. He was no savior.”**

Yun Shang’s face twitched, but he stayed silent. The evidence was undeniable. Yang Hao had failed, died—he wasn’t the Creator’s chosen king.

Yun Shang sighed, drained of strength, unable even to extinguish the flames devouring Yang Hao. All watched as his life dwindled—worthless if he wasn’t the prophesied one.

Then, a voice cut through the silence.

Saan’s icy words fell from the sky: **”He won.”**

**”Won?”** Cadis roared. Impossible—Yang Hao was at death’s door, while Saan stood unscathed.

But then, the dragon fell silent.

A single feather drifted down from the sky—insignificant at any other time, but now, it meant everything.

It was black, pure as a demon’s heart, but as it fell, it lightened—gray, then white, until it landed as a gleaming silver feather.

A feather from the Dark Angel King’s wing.

Gasps erupted. An angel’s feathers were part of their wings—their power. To dislodge one was to wound the angel itself.

Saan’s lost feather meant Yang Hao had prevailed. His flames could have torn Saan’s wings, yet only a feather fell.

This didn’t mean Yang Hao surpassed Saan, but clearly, the Great Radiance Technique hadn’t destroyed him. Instead, it had tempered him—baptized him in the fusion of light and darkness.

Though Yang Hao lay broken, burning from within, he had endured the trial.

Still, no one moved to save him—stunned into inaction. Seconds from death, the backlash of the flames would claim him post-baptism.

Silence reigned. The world stood still, save for Yang Hao’s dwindling life.

Then, a breeze stirred—carrying dampness. Blue raindrops fell, seeping into Yang Hao’s skin, cooling the inferno within.

A stranger approached—a man in his thirties with snow-white hair, an air of roguish charm. He gazed at Yang Hao with unexpected warmth, as if seeing his own child.

Yang Hao, struggling to open scorched eyes, recognized him instantly.

**”Master…”** he whispered, then collapsed.

The stranger smiled, lifting Yang Hao gently. Without a glance at the stunned gods, he walked away.

Yang Hao couldn’t even move, yet he didn’t feel surprised, as if this outcome had been expected. Perhaps for Yang Hao at this moment, being able to fight the Dark King and witnessing such an unparalleled, supreme technique before death was already the best possible ending.

No matter what, even if Saan could survive with Yun Shang’s rescue, for a proud king, it was already no different from death. A true Dark Emperor would never allow others to save him.

The Cadis Dragons would never intervene, for they knew well that Saan would rather die than accept interference.

The Invisible Sword had revealed itself, but it now carried an even more powerful, faster, and unimaginable force, unstoppable and crushing, aimed straight at Saan’s head. Saan had nothing to block it.

Yet he looked up and smiled. His handsome, almost demonically charming face bore a smile no one could decipher—a smile so profound it could pierce the soul.

Then, starting from Saan’s long hair, his face, shoulders, slender body, and every part of him erupted with a light so intense it defied human description. Not even hundreds of thousands of suns could rival it. The others present had to shield their eyes with their power to avoid being blinded.

Saan was entirely enveloped in that radiant sphere, a brilliance akin to the universe’s first great explosion, where all energy concentrated into a single point before bursting forth. Or like the first ray of light after ten thousand years of darkness, turning all darkness into light and all light into darkness.

This unimaginable radiance slowly expanded, carrying an extraordinary force that seemed unstoppable. Yang Hao’s Invisible Sword appeared utterly ridiculous in the face of such power—it didn’t even make contact before being flung away to who-knows-where.

“Great Radiance Technique! Damn it, it’s the Great Radiance Technique!!” Cadis the Dragon suddenly roared in fury as the dragons swiftly wrapped their wings around themselves.

Compared to the demons, they fared better. The mid and lower-tier demons suffered far worse in this unstoppable light, their bodies emitting thick black smoke as they were scorched by the radiance.

This was no surprise. Though both belonged to the divine races, the dark-aligned demons were inherently attuned to darkness—their mortal enemy was light. And now, Saan had unleashed the Great Radiance Technique, the highest art of the light faction. Fortunately, his target wasn’t the demons below, or countless lives would have been lost.

The Great Radiance Technique was revered as the supreme art among the divine races. Legend held that only the King of the Radiant Angels could wield it. Few in this world had ever witnessed it, for those who had were often consumed by the light, pierced through by its sword.

In the buried war of gods and demons, the Radiant Angels’ last sanctuary was besieged by the Dark Angels. The battle raged until corpses littered the field, and the Dark Angels were on the verge of total victory. But at the critical moment, the twelve-winged Radiant Angel unleashed this forbidden technique—an endless, blinding radiance poured from the sanctuary, withering the Dark Angels’ wings and causing them to fall. That single technique reversed the tide of war, slaying tens of thousands of Dark Angels in an instant.

From then on, no one dared attack the Radiant Angels’ sanctuary, for the Great Radiance Technique, with its infinite power, was etched into its walls, ready to annihilate any who bore darkness.

Yet now, the long-dormant Great Radiance Technique had resurfaced. What truly shocked everyone was that its wielder was none other than Saan, the King of the Dark Angels.

A ruler of darkness had unleashed the highest art of light. Could it be that Saan was truly the union of darkness and light—the invincible god of this world?

Amid the demons’ howls, Saan’s radiance did not wane. Instead, it grew brighter, expanding further, even beginning to creep toward Yang Hao in the distance.

Yang Hao was now reaping the consequences of his actions. He had assumed the divine races were like his past foes—easy to ambush and defeat. But he never imagined how fiercely a king guarded his dignity. A king could die, could perish, but could never be defeated. Thus, Saan risked harming his kin and altering the world itself to unleash the Great Radiance Technique. He would never allow an ordinary man to harm him—not even a single feather.

The unstoppable Great Radiance Technique drew closer to Yang Hao. He felt its overwhelming pressure. He had always believed darkness alone was evil, yet under this blinding white force, he sensed a sinister aura—one laced with enchantment, intoxicating yet fatal.

Yang Hao couldn’t move, but he wasn’t surprised. This outcome seemed inevitable. Perhaps, for him at this moment, fighting the Dark King and witnessing this peerless technique before death was the best possible end.

The white sphere of the Great Radiance Technique rapidly expanded, devouring everything around it—air, sunlight, clouds, even time itself—all swallowed by the endless white. At an unimaginable speed, the light reached Yang Hao. When the first ray touched his fingertip…

Yang Hao felt pain.

This pain was unlike any before. He had suffered many times—when wounded by enemies, when his loved ones died for him, when loyal subjects were buried, even when Hunyuanzi was devoured by the Black Dragon. Each time, the agony had been unbearable.

But this was unprecedented. It was real, starting from his skin, seeping into his blood, piercing his heart. His fingertip felt like it was burning—and it was. A white flower bloomed there, its holy yet sinister glow consuming his flesh bit by bit.

Meanwhile, another flame surged from Yang Hao’s dantian—a black fire, unnoticed until now. As the Great Radiance Technique attacked, this black fire stirred, rushing forth to clash with the white light.

Yang Hao writhed in agony.

Light and darkness, forces of opposing natures, converged within him. Perhaps he didn’t realize it, but this was a pivotal moment—a cosmic event eons in the making, as if all existence had waited for this very instant.

All Yang Hao felt was tearing. He couldn’t know that the black flame was the transformed essence of the Black Dragon’s breath, and its collision with the light unleashed energies from the universe’s deepest secrets—the very forces behind creation and destruction.

Yet Yang Hao was caught in a vortex, two opposing energies flooding his body, shredding his skin, meridians, and blood. He was being torn apart.

“Ah!!! Ah!!!!!” Yang Hao screamed. The light pierced through his roaring mouth, his palms, his heart, his limbs—everything was engulfed.

White and black light merged, creating a spectacle of surreal beauty. Yang Hao, now a blazing figure in the sky, burned like a torch above the clouds.

The most shocked were the high-ranking divine beings watching. Yun Shang and Cadis the Dragon were speechless. Only they understood what was happening—yet even they found it impossible, a legend even among gods.

To trace this legend’s origin, one must return to the universe’s birth. The cosmos emerged from a mysterious explosion eons ago—the Big Bang, history’s greatest enigma. From it came the boundless universe, stars, life, gods, and mortals.

With the explosion came two forces: light and darkness, distinct and opposing. The divine races split accordingly—Yun Shang’s Radiant Faction and the Dark Faction led by Saan and the Cadis Dragons. These factions were eternal enemies.

Yet a legend persisted: if one could merge light and darkness within, they would surpass all gods, becoming the invincible War God and ascending as the universe’s ruler—the Cosmic King.

But legends remained legends. No one had ever achieved this, for light and darkness were opposites—mutually destructive, canceling each other out. To unite them was near impossible.

Even if someone, by chance, harbored both, balance was key. One force would dominate, suppressing the other, preventing true power from emerging. Only when light and darkness reached perfect equilibrium could one become the God of Radiance.

Among the Cadis Dragons, legends spoke of three dragon-breath baptisms to ascend as a dragon.

The Radiant Faction had its own tales of three infusions of light to become a god.

In truth, both spoke of the same path. The true Cosmic King must endure six near-fatal transformations.

The first was baptism by the Black Dragon’s breath, the second by the Golden Dragon’s—the highest among dragons—and the third by the apocalyptic trial of a thousand dragons.

For light, the first was the Great Radiance Technique. The next two remained unknown, for none had lived to tell.

By sheer chance, Yang Hao had endured the Black Dragon’s breath on Dragon Cliff, thanks to Hunyuanzi’s Dragon Breath Pill, completing his first transformation. Now, Saan’s Great Radiance Technique was the first trial of light.

If Yang Hao survived, he would become the universe’s most miraculous anomaly—the first to merge light and darkness, a candidate for Cosmic King as ordained by the Creator.

“Impossible!!” Yun Shang stared at the blazing figure in the sky, where Yang Hao’s form was lost in the clash of light and darkness.

“Roar!!” The Black Dragon howled at the heavens, sensing the world tremble—the sky, earth, even the clouds shifting subtly, as if trembling before a king’s arrival.

The world darkened, then blazed anew. The clouds parted, revealing a pristine blue sky.

The flames around Yang Hao and Saan’s radiant sphere vanished in a deafening explosion, shaking even the divine beings. The dark angels tumbled from the skies, while those below collapsed under the divine earthquake.

The quake lasted ten minutes, toppling structures across the divine realm. When it subsided, the aftermath was clear.

This was the remnants of an explosion—the collision between Yang Hao’s transforming body and Saan’s Great Radiance Technique. In such an explosion, only one could survive.

If Saan’s technique prevailed, Yang Hao would die—a corpse couldn’t complete the transformation. If Yang Hao won, Saan would fall, proving his miracle.

Despite lingering tremors, the divine races craned their necks skyward. Whether in disappointment or relief, they saw Saan standing unharmed on the clouds, his six silver-lined wings now folded back to pure black.

Yang Hao, however, was a charred wreck, plummeting lifelessly to the ground. Divine senses revealed no outer flames, but inner fires still raged within him—soon, they would consume him entirely.

“He lost,” Cadis the Dragon growled. “Loss means death. He’s no savior.”

Yun Shang’s face twitched, but he stayed silent. The facts were undeniable. Yang Hao had failed the first trial—he wasn’t the Creator’s chosen king.

Yun Shang sighed, drained of strength, unable to even extinguish Yang Hao’s inner flames. The divine races watched as the fires devoured his dwindling life. To them, if Yang Hao wasn’t the savior, he was expendable.

Then, a voice cut through the silence like ice.

“He won.”

Saan’s words hung in the air.

“Won?” Cadis the Dragon roared. Impossible—Yang Hao was near death, while Saan stood unscathed. The outcome was obvious.

But soon, the dragon fell silent. Something was drifting down from the sky—a single feather, insignificant yet unignorable.

It had been black, pure as a demon’s heart, but as it fell, it lightened—gray, then white, until it landed as a gleaming silver feather.

A feather from the Dark Angel King’s wing.

Gasps erupted. An angel’s feathers were part of their wings—their power. Losing one meant their wings had been compromised.

Saan’s fallen feather proved Yang Hao had prevailed. His flames could have torn Saan’s wings, yet only a feather was lost.

This didn’t mean Yang Hao surpassed Saan, but it showed the Great Radiance Technique hadn’t harmed him—it had tempered him, completing the first fusion of light and darkness.

Though Yang Hao lay charred and motionless, his inner fires slowly consuming him, he had passed the trial.

Still, no divine being moved to save him—stunned into statues.

Then, a breeze stirred, carrying dampness. Blue raindrops fell, seeping into Yang Hao’s skin, cooling the flames within.

With the rain came a stranger—a man in his thirties with snow-white hair, his face grave yet tinged with roguish charm. He approached Yang Hao with unexpected tenderness, as if seeing his own child.

The wind and rain ceased at his gesture.

Yang Hao stirred, forcing open scorched eyelids to meet the stranger’s gaze.

For some reason, warmth flooded his heart, tears welling as his lips trembled.

“Master…”

Then, darkness took him again.

The stranger smiled warmly, lifting Yang Hao’s weakened form. Ignoring the stunned divine beings, he strode away, head held high.

Yang Hao felt pain.

This pain was different from any before. Yang Hao had felt pain many times—when wounded by enemies, when his woman died for him, when loyal subjects were buried, even when Hun Yuanzi was devoured by the Black Dragon. Each time, he had been overwhelmed with pain.

But this time, the pain was unprecedented, truly originating from his skin yet invading his blood, penetrating deep into his heart. Yang Hao felt his fingertips burning, and indeed, they were burning. A white flower was blooming, a sacred yet sinister light, flourishing vividly on his fingertips, gradually burning his skin.

No matter what, even if Saan could survive with Yun Shang’s rescue, for a proud king, it was already no different from death. A true Dark Emperor would never allow others to save him.

The Cadis Dragons would never intervene, for they knew all too well that Saan would rather die than accept outside help.

The Invisible Sword had revealed itself, but it now carried an even more powerful, faster, and unimaginable force—unstoppable, weighing like a mountain as it thrust toward Saan’s head. Saan had nothing left to block it.

Yet he raised his head and smiled. His handsome, almost demonically charming face bore a smile no one could decipher—a smile so profound it could pierce the soul.

Then, starting from Saan’s long hair, his face, his shoulders, his slender body, and every part of him, an unbearably bright light erupted. This radiance was beyond human description, outshining even hundreds of thousands of suns. The others present had to shield their eyes with their power to avoid being blinded.

Saan was entirely enveloped in that light, like the first cosmic explosion, where all energy was concentrated into a single point before bursting forth. Or like the first ray of light after an eternity of darkness, illuminating all shadows and turning brightness into darkness.

This unimaginable brilliance slowly expanded, carrying an extraordinary force that seemed unstoppable. Yang Hao’s Invisible Sword appeared utterly insignificant in the face of such power—it didn’t even make contact before being flung away into oblivion.

**”Great Radiance Technique! Damn it, it’s the Great Radiance Technique!!”** Cadis Dragon suddenly roared in fury. The dragons swiftly spread their wings, wrapping themselves tightly within.

Compared to the demons, they fared better. The mid and lower-tier demons suffered far worse under this unstoppable light—thick black smoke rose from their bodies as they were scorched by the radiance.

This was no surprise. Though both belonged to the divine races, the dark-aligned demons were inherently opposed to light. And now, Saan had unleashed the pinnacle of light-based magic—the Great Radiance Technique. Fortunately, its target wasn’t the demons below, or countless lives would have been lost.

The Great Radiance Technique was revered as the supreme art among the divine races. Legends said only the King of Radiant Angels could wield it. Few in this world had ever witnessed it, for those who did were often consumed by its light, pierced by its sword.

In the buried war of gods and demons, the final sanctuary of the Radiant Angels was besieged by the Dark Angel legions. The battle raged until corpses littered the land, and victory seemed certain for the Dark Angels. But at the critical moment, a twelve-winged Radiant Angel unleashed this forbidden art—an endless stream of blinding white light erupted from the sanctuary, withering the wings of the Dark Angels by the thousands, turning the tide of war.

From then on, none dared attack the Radiant Angels’ sanctuary, for the Great Radiance Technique was etched within its walls, ready to annihilate any who bore darkness.

Yet now, after ages of silence, the Great Radiance Technique had resurfaced. And what truly shook the world was that its wielder was none other than Saan, the King of Dark Angels.

A ruler of darkness had unleashed the highest art of light. Was Saan truly the fusion of darkness and light—the invincible god none could ever defeat?

Amid the demons’ agonized screams, Saan’s radiance did not fade. Instead, it grew brighter, expanding further, even creeping toward Yang Hao in the distance.

Yang Hao was now reaping the consequences. He had assumed the divine races were like his past foes—easy to ambush and defeat. But he never imagined how fiercely a king guarded his dignity. A king could die, could perish, but could never be defeated. Thus, Saan risked harming his own kind, risked upheaving the world itself, just to unleash the Great Radiance Technique. He would never allow an ordinary man to harm him—not even a single feather.

Now, nothing in this world could stop the Great Radiance Technique as it closed in on Yang Hao. He felt its overwhelming pressure. He had always believed darkness alone was evil, yet under this blinding white force, he sensed a sinister aura—one laced with enchantment, intoxicating yet fatal.

Yang Hao couldn’t even move, but he wasn’t surprised. This outcome seemed inevitable. Perhaps, for him at this moment, fighting the Dark King and witnessing this peerless technique before death was the best possible end.

The white sphere of the Great Radiance Technique rapidly expanded, devouring everything—air, sunlight, clouds, even time itself—engulfed by its endless white. At unimaginable speed, the light reached Yang Hao’s body. The moment the first ray touched his fingertip—

Yang Hao felt pain.

But this pain was unlike any before. He had suffered many times—when wounded by enemies, when his loved ones died for him, when loyal subjects were buried, even when Hunyuanzi was devoured by the Black Dragon. Each time, the agony had been unbearable.

Yet this was unprecedented. It seared his skin, invaded his blood, pierced his heart. His fingertip burned—and indeed, it was burning. A white flower bloomed there, its holy yet sinister glow consuming his flesh bit by bit.

Then, another flame surged from Yang Hao’s dantian—a black fire, buried within him without his knowledge. But as the Great Radiance Technique struck, the black fire stirred, rushing forth to clash with the white light.

Yang Hao writhed in torment.

Light and darkness, forces of opposing natures, converged within him. Unbeknownst to him, this was a pivotal moment—an epochal instant the universe had awaited since time immemorial.

But all Yang Hao felt was tearing agony. He didn’t know the black flame was the transformed essence of the Black Dragon’s breath, nor that its collision with the light-based technique unleashed energies from the cosmos’ deepest secrets.

Even the birth and destruction of the universe stemmed from such power.

Yet Yang Hao was caught in a vortex, two opposing forces ravaging his body—his skin, his meridians, his blood—all shattered. He was on the verge of being torn apart.

**”AHHH!!! AHHHHHH!!!!”** Yang Hao screamed. Light pierced his roaring mouth, his palms, his heart, his limbs—everything was engulfed.

White and black light merged, creating a spectacle of surreal beauty. Yang Hao, now a blazing figure in the sky, burned like a torch above the clouds.

The most stunned were the high-ranking divine beings watching. Yun Shang and Cadis Dragon were speechless. Only they understood what was happening—yet even they refused to believe it. For this was but a legend, a tale even the divine races dismissed as myth.

To trace this legend’s origin, one must return to the birth of the universe. The cosmos they lived in began with a mysterious explosion eons ago—the Big Bang from a singularity, history’s greatest enigma. From it emerged the boundless universe, stars, life, gods, and mortals.

And with it came two opposing forces—light and darkness. The divine races split accordingly: one faction led by Yun Shang’s Radiant Angels, the other by Saan and the Cadis Dragons. These two factions were eternal enemies.

Yet a legend persisted—that if one could merge light and darkness within themselves, they would surpass all divine power, becoming the invincible War God and ascending as the universe’s sovereign.

The Cosmic King.

But legends remained just that—no one had ever achieved it. Light and darkness were antithetical, canceling and harming each other. To unite them was near impossible.

Even if someone, by sheer chance, harbored both forces, balance was key. If one dominated, the other would be suppressed, preventing true power from emerging. Only when light and darkness reached perfect equilibrium could one ascend as the God of Radiance.

Among the Cadis Dragons, legends spoke of three dragon-breath baptisms to become a true dragon.

Among the Radiant Angels, three infusions of light were said to birth a god.

In truth, both spoke of the same path—the Cosmic King must endure six near-fatal transformations.

The first was baptism by the Black Dragon’s breath, the second by the Golden Dragon’s (the highest among dragons), and the third by the apocalyptic trial of a thousand dragons.

For the light path, the first was the Great Radiance Technique. The latter two remained unknown, for none had ever endured them.

This was the twist of fate. Yang Hao, at Dragon Cliff, had survived the Black Dragon’s breath thanks to Hunyuanzi’s Breath Pill, completing his first dark transformation. Now, Saan’s Great Radiance Technique was his first light baptism.

If Yang Hao endured, he would become the universe’s most miraculous anomaly—the first to merge light and darkness, a candidate for Cosmic King as ordained by the Creator.

**”This can’t be!!”** Yun Shang stared at the blazing figure in the sky, where Yang Hao’s form was lost amidst the clashing forces.

**”ROAR!!”** The Cadis Black Dragon howled at the heavens, sensing the world tremble—the sky, the earth, even the clouds shifting subtly, as if trembling before a king’s arrival.

The world darkened, then flared anew. The clouds parted, revealing a pristine blue sky.

The raging flames around Yang Hao and Saan’s radiant sphere vanished in a deafening explosion—a blast so powerful even the divine races staggered, the very fabric of space quaking. Dark Angels tumbled from the skies, while those below were thrown to the ground, enduring what felt like a divine earthquake.

The cataclysm lasted ten minutes, collapsing structures across the divine realm. When the dust settled, the sky revealed the aftermath.

This was the remnants of an explosion—the collision between Yang Hao’s transforming body and Saan’s Great Radiance Technique. In such a clash, only one could survive.

If Saan’s technique prevailed, Yang Hao would die—a corpse couldn’t complete the transformation. If Yang Hao won, Saan would fall, proving his miracle.

Despite the aftershocks, the divine races craned their necks skyward. Relief or disappointment—they first saw Saan, standing unharmed upon the clouds, his six silver-glowing wings now folded back into pure black.

Yang Hao, however, was a charred wreck, plummeting lifelessly to the ground. Divine senses detected no breath in him—only internal flames still burning, soon to reduce him to ashes.

**”He lost,”** Cadis Dragon growled. **”Loss means death. He was no savior.”**

Yun Shang’s face twitched, but he stayed silent. The evidence was undeniable. Yang Hao had failed, died—he wasn’t the Creator’s chosen king.

Yun Shang sighed, drained of strength, too despondent to even extinguish Yang Hao’s flames. To the divine races, if Yang Hao wasn’t the savior, he was expendable.

Then, a voice cut through the silence like ice.

**”He won.”**

Saan’s words fell from the sky.

**”Won?”** Cadis Dragon roared in disbelief. Yang Hao was at death’s door, while Saan stood unscathed. The outcome was clear.

But then, the dragon fell silent.

For something was drifting down from the sky—a single feather, insignificant yet unignorable.

It had been black, pure as a demon’s heart. But as it fell, its color faded—black to gray, then white, until it landed as a gleaming silver feather.

A feather from the Dark Angel King’s wing.

Gasps erupted. Every divine being knew—an angel’s feathers were part of their wings, and wings symbolized power.

To pluck an angel’s feather was to sever their strength.

Saan’s lost feather meant Yang Hao had prevailed in their clash. His flames could have torn Saan’s wings—yet only a single feather fell.

This didn’t mean Yang Hao surpassed Saan, but it proved the Great Radiance Technique hadn’t destroyed him. Instead, it had tempered him, completing his first fusion of light and darkness.

Though Yang Hao lay charred and motionless, his life ebbing under internal flames, he had endured the baptism.

Still, no divine being moved to save him—stunned into inaction, they forgot he had mere seconds left before the backlash consumed him entirely.

Silence reigned, time itself frozen. Only Yang Hao’s fading breath remained.

Then, a breeze stirred—carrying dampness, blue droplets that seeped into his skin, cooling the inferno within.

A stranger approached, white-haired yet youthful, an air of roguish charm about him. He gazed at Yang Hao with unexpected warmth, as if seeing his own child.

With a wave, the wind and rain ceased.

Yang Hao stirred, forcing open scorched eyelids to meet the stranger’s eyes.

And somehow, his heart swelled—tears welled as his lips trembled.

**”Master…”**

Then, darkness took him again.

The stranger smiled, lifting Yang Hao’s frail form. Ignoring the stunned divine races, he strode away without a word.

Yang Hao was in excruciating agony.

Light and darkness, forces of different attributes, finally converged within his body. Perhaps Yang Hao wasn’t aware, but this was nearly a momentous occasion, an epochal instant. Across ten thousand years of cosmic chaos, countless beings rising and falling, life and death, all seemed to be waiting for this very moment.

Yang Hao only felt tearing. How could he know that the black flame originated from the transformed dark power of the Black Dragon’s breath? When this power collided with the light-representing technique, the energy released came from the deepest secrets of the universe.

Even the birth and destruction of the universe originated from such energy.

But Yang Hao was like being drawn into a vortex, with two completely different energies surging into his body, tearing apart every inch of his skin, every meridian, every drop of blood, nearly shredding him into pieces.

“Ahhh!!! Ahhhhhhh!!!” Yang Hao screamed. Light pierced through his roaring mouth, his palms, his heart, his limbs, every part of him, engulfed in light.

White light, black light, merged together, forming an even more magnificent spectacle. Yang Hao was entirely engulfed in a gorgeous flame, burning in the sky, above the clouds, becoming a blazing fireball.

No matter what, even if Saan could survive with Yun Shang’s rescue, for a proud king, it was already no different from death. A true Dark Emperor would never allow others to save him.

The Cadis Dragons would never intervene, for they knew well that Saan would rather die than accept interference.

The Invisible Sword had revealed itself, yet it now carried an even more powerful, faster, and unimaginable force—unstoppable, weighing like a mountain as it thrust toward Saan’s head. Saan had nothing to block it.

Yet he raised his head and smiled. His handsome, almost demonically charming face bore a smile no one could decipher—a smile so profound it could pierce the soul.

Then, starting from Saan’s long hair, his face, his shoulders, his slender body, and every part of him erupted with a radiance so intense it defied human description. It was brighter than hundreds of thousands of suns combined. The others present had to shield their eyes with their power to avoid being blinded.

Saan was entirely enveloped in that light, a brilliance akin to the universe’s first great explosion, condensing all energy into a single point before erupting. Or perhaps it was like the first ray of light after ten thousand years of darkness, turning all darkness into light and all light into darkness.

This unimaginable radiance slowly expanded, carrying an extraordinary force that seemed unstoppable. Yang Hao’s Invisible Sword appeared utterly ridiculous in the face of such power—it didn’t even make contact before being flung away to who-knows-where.

**”The Great Radiance Technique! Damn it, it’s the Great Radiance Technique!!”** Cadis the Dragon suddenly roared in fury. The dragons swiftly spread their wings, wrapping themselves entirely in protection.

Compared to them, the demons fared better. The mid and lower-tier demons suffered far worse in this unstoppable light—thick black smoke rose from their bodies as they were scorched by the radiance.

This was no surprise. Though they were all part of the divine races, the dark-aligned demons were inherently attuned to darkness. Their mortal enemy was light. And now, Saan had unleashed the highest technique of the light faction—the Great Radiance Technique. Fortunately, his target wasn’t the demons below, or countless lives would have been lost.

The Great Radiance Technique was revered as the supreme art among the divine races. Legends said only the King of the Radiant Angels could wield it. Few in this world had ever witnessed it, for most who had were already consumed by the light, pierced through by its sword.

In the buried war of gods and demons, the Radiant Angels’ last stronghold was besieged by the Dark Angels. The battle raged until corpses littered the land, and the Dark Angels were on the verge of total victory. But at the critical moment, the twelve-winged Radiant Angel unleashed this forbidden technique. Endless white light poured from the stronghold, shining upon the Dark Angels’ wings, causing them to wither and fall. That single technique slaughtered tens of thousands of Dark Angels, reversing the tide of war in an instant.

From then on, none dared attack the Radiant Angels’ stronghold, for the Great Radiance Technique—imbued with infinite power—was etched within its walls, ready to slay any who bore darkness.

Yet now, the long-dormant Great Radiance Technique had resurfaced. And what truly shocked all was that the one wielding it was none other than Saan, the King of the Dark Angels.

A ruler of darkness had unleashed the highest technique of light. Could it be that Saan was truly the union of darkness and light—the invincible god of this world?

Amid the demons’ agonized screams, Saan’s radiance did not fade. Instead, it grew brighter, expanding further, even beginning to creep toward Yang Hao in the distance.

Yang Hao was now reaping what he had sown. He had assumed the divine races were like his past opponents—easy to ambush and defeat. But how could he have known the weight a king placed on his dignity? A king could die, could perish, but he could never be defeated. Thus, Saan would rather risk harming his own kind, risk altering the heavens and earth, than allow an ordinary man to harm him—not even a single feather.

The unstoppable Great Radiance Technique drew closer to Yang Hao. He could feel the oppressive force of the light. He had always believed that only darkness was evil, yet under this blinding white pressure, he distinctly sensed a sinister aura—one laced with enchantment, intoxicating yet fatal.

Yang Hao couldn’t even move, but he wasn’t surprised. It was as if he had expected this outcome. Perhaps, for him at this moment, fighting the Dark King and witnessing this supreme technique before death was already the best possible ending.

The white radiance of the Great Radiance Technique rapidly expanded, devouring everything around it—air, sunlight, clouds, even time itself—engulfed by the endless white. At an unimaginable speed, the light reached Yang Hao’s body. The moment the first ray touched his fingertip—

Yang Hao felt pain.

But this pain was unlike any before. He had suffered many times—when wounded by enemies, when his loved ones died for him, when loyal subjects were buried, even when Hunyuanzi was devoured by the Black Dragon. Each time, the pain had been unbearable.

Yet this time, it was unprecedented. It was real, starting from his skin, seeping into his blood, piercing his heart. His fingertip felt like it was burning—and it was. A white flower bloomed there, its holy yet sinister glow consuming his flesh bit by bit.

At the same time, another flame surged from Yang Hao’s dantian—a black fire, buried within him at some unknown time, unnoticed even by himself. But when the Great Radiance Technique struck, the black fire stirred, rushing forth unbidden to clash with the white radiance.

Yang Hao writhed in agony.

Light and darkness—two opposing forces—finally converged within his body. Perhaps he didn’t realize it, but this was a pivotal moment in history. Across the eons of the universe, countless lives had risen and fallen, as if waiting for this very instant.

All Yang Hao felt was tearing. How could he know that the black flame was the transformed dark power of the Black Dragon’s breath? When this force collided with the light-aligned technique, the energy unleashed was a secret from the deepest reaches of the cosmos.

Even the birth and destruction of the universe stemmed from such energy.

But Yang Hao was swept into a vortex. Two entirely different energies flooded his body, shredding every inch of his skin, every meridian, every drop of blood. He was on the verge of being torn apart.

**”Ah!!! Ah!!!!!!”** Yang Hao screamed. The light pierced through his roaring mouth, his palms, his heart, his limbs—everything was engulfed.

White light and black light merged, creating an even more magnificent spectacle. Yang Hao was entirely enveloped in dazzling flames, burning in the sky above the clouds, a blazing inferno.

At this moment, none were more shocked than the high-ranking divine beings watching. Yun Shang and Cadis the Dragon were speechless. Only they understood what was happening—yet none could believe it. Even with the evidence before their eyes, it seemed impossible, for this was merely a legend, a tale even the divine races considered myth.

To trace the origin of this legend, one must return to the birth of the universe. The cosmos everyone inhabited now originated from a mysterious explosion billions of years ago—the Big Bang from the cosmic singularity, history’s greatest enigma. From that explosion came the vast universe, the stars, life itself, the divine races, and ordinary beings.

At the same time, two forces emerged—light and darkness, distinct and opposing. The divine races, aligned with these forces, split into two factions: one led by Yun Shang’s Radiant Angels, the other by Saan and the Cadis Dragons. These factions were sworn enemies, locked in irreconcilable conflict.

Yet a legend persisted: if someone could merge light and darkness within themselves, they would surpass all divine power, becoming the invincible God of War—and ascend as the ruler of the universe.

The Cosmic King.

But legends remained legends. None had ever achieved this, for light and darkness were fundamentally opposed—mutually destructive, canceling each other out. To unite them was near impossible.

Even if someone, by sheer chance, gathered both forces within themselves, balance was key. When one force dominated, the other would be suppressed, preventing the full potential from manifesting. Only when light and darkness reached perfect equilibrium could one become the God of Radiance.

Among the Cadis Dragons, there was a legend of three dragon breaths transforming one into a dragon.

Among the light-aligned divine races, there was a tale of three infusions of radiant power ascending one to godhood.

In truth, both spoke of the same thing. The true Cosmic King had to endure six near-death transformations.

The first was the baptism of the Cadis Black Dragon’s breath. The second was the breath of the Golden Dragon, the highest among dragonkind. The third was the trial of a thousand dragons gathered in apocalypse.

On the light side, the first was the baptism of the Great Radiance Technique. The latter two remained unknown, for none had ever experienced them.

This was the so-called twist of fate. In the Dragon Cliff, Yang Hao had endured the Black Dragon’s breath with Hunyuanzi’s Dragon Breath Pill, completing his first transformation. And now, Saan’s Great Radiance Technique was the first transformation of light.

If Yang Hao could endure this, he would become the world’s most incredible miracle—the first to merge light and darkness, a candidate for the Cosmic King ordained by the Creator.

**”This is impossible!!”** Yun Shang stared at the blazing inferno in the sky, within which Yang Hao’s form was indiscernible—caught in the struggle between light and dark.

**”Roar!!”** The Cadis Black Dragon howled at the heavens, sensing the world tremble. The sky, the earth, even the clouds underwent subtle changes—as if trembling in anticipation of the king’s arrival.

The world darkened abruptly, then blazed with light. The clouds parted, revealing the sky’s pristine blue.

The fierce flames around Yang Hao and Saan’s radiant white sphere vanished in a deafening explosion—a sound so immense even the divine races couldn’t endure it. Space itself quaked violently, sending even the Dark Angels tumbling from the skies.

The divine and demonic races on the ground fared no better. Lower-tier beings like Xin Mei collapsed, barely enduring this divine earthquake.

The cataclysmic tremors lasted ten full minutes, nearly leveling every structure in the divine realm. Only then could people see what had happened in the sky.

It was the aftermath of an explosion—the collision between Yang Hao’s transforming body and Saan’s Great Radiance Technique. In such an explosion, only one survivor was possible.

The outcome was clear. If Saan’s Great Radiance Technique had prevailed, Yang Hao would be dead—a corpse couldn’t complete the transformation, nor become the Cosmic King’s candidate.

If Yang Hao had won, then Saan would be the one to fall. Only by withstanding the Great Radiance Technique could Yang Hao truly establish his miracle.

Despite the lingering aftershocks, the divine races below eagerly looked skyward. Whether in disappointment or relief, their first sight was Saan—standing unharmed upon the clouds, his usual icy, aloof demeanor intact. His six pairs of wings, which shimmered silver when spread, were now folded, pure black once more.

Yang Hao, however, was a pitiful sight—charred like coal, seemingly roasted alive. He plummeted from the sky, crashing to the ground without resistance, lying motionless, devoid of life.

Though no flames were visible on his body, the divine races could sense the true fire still burning within him. Soon, it would consume him entirely.

**”He lost,”** Cadis the Dragon growled. **”And losers die. He was no savior.”**

Yun Shang’s face twitched, but he said nothing. There was no refuting the Black Dragon—the facts were plain. Yang Hao had lost, had died. He hadn’t passed the first fusion of power. He wasn’t the Creator’s chosen king.

Yun Shang sighed, feeling utterly drained. He lacked even the strength to extinguish the flames within Yang Hao. All the divine races watched as Yang Hao lay there, his dwindling life force being devoured by the fire. To them, if Yang Hao wasn’t the savior, then he was expendable—worthless.

Only one voice could change everything now.

Saan’s icy words dropped from the sky: **”He won.”**

**”Won?”** Cadis the Dragon roared in disbelief. How could Yang Hao, barely alive, have won when Saan stood unscathed? The outcome was obvious.

But soon, the dragon fell silent, gaping at something drifting slowly from the sky—a single feather, insignificant under normal circumstances, but now carrying immense significance.

It was a feather from the Dark Angel King himself—originally pure black, but as it descended, its color faded to gray, then white, finally landing as a gleaming silver feather.

An uproar erupted. Everyone knew an angel’s feathers were part of their wings, and wings symbolized power.

For a feather to fall meant Yang Hao had prevailed in the clash. His flames could have torn Saan’s wings apart, yet somehow, only a single feather had been dislodged.

This didn’t mean Yang Hao’s power surpassed Saan’s, but it proved the Great Radiance Technique hadn’t harmed him. Instead, it had strengthened him, completing the first fusion of light and darkness.

Though Yang Hao lay charred and motionless, his life force dwindling under the internal flames, he had indeed undergone the baptism.

Still, no divine being moved to extinguish the fire within him—this time out of sheer shock. They stood frozen, forgetting Yang Hao had mere seconds left before death by the backlash of the true fire.

Silence replaced breath, freezing time itself. The world seemed to pause, with only Yang Hao’s life flickering away.

But the divine races remained statues.

Then, a breeze swept in, carrying moist air. From within it, blue raindrops fell—miraculous droplets that seeped into the skin, cooling and extinguishing the flames within Yang Hao.

With the rain and wind came a stranger—a man in his thirties with entirely white hair, his expression grave yet tinged with an unshakable roguishness. He approached Yang Hao, his eyes softening as if seeing his own child. With a wave, the wind and rain dissipated.

Yang Hao stirred weakly, forcing open his scorched eyelids to see the stranger for the first time.

Yet inexplicably, warmth surged in his heart, tears welling as his lips trembled. **”Master…”**

Then, he fell unconscious once more.

The stranger smiled warmly, lifting Yang Hao’s frail form. Without a glance at the stunned divine races, he strode away, head held high.

If one were to trace the origin of this legend, it would begin with the birth of the universe. The universe in which everyone now lived originated from a mysterious explosion billions of years ago, the Big Bang from a cosmic singularity, an enigma in history. After that Big Bang, the vast, boundless universe emerged, with stars, life, divine beings, and ordinary creatures.

Simultaneously, two forces emerged in the world after the Big Bang: light and darkness. These two forces were clearly distinct, each with its own attributes. Divine beings possessing these different attributes were divided into two factions: one led by Yun Shang’s Flash Clan and the Light Angels, and the other led by Sa’an and the Kadith Dragon Clan. These two factions of divine beings were enemies, locked in irreconcilable hatred.

Yet there was a legend that whoever could merge both light and darkness within their body could transcend all divine powers, becoming an invincible war god and ascending to become the true ruler of the universe.

The King of the Universe.

But legends remained legends, and no one had ever reached such a realm. Because light and darkness were two diametrically opposed forces, they counteracted and canceled each other out, even harming each other. To merge these two forces into one’s being was extremely difficult.

Even if someone, by chance, managed to possess both forces, it still wouldn’t work. Because the essence of power lies in balance. When two energies exist within the body, they inevitably clash. When one force becomes dominant, the other will inevitably be suppressed, making it impossible to unleash the greatest power. Only when the forces of light and darkness achieve the most delicate equilibrium can one achieve the status of the Light God.

In the Kadith Dragon Clan, there is a legend of three dragon breaths transforming one into a dragon.

In the Light-aligned divine race, there is also a legend of three infusions of light power turning one into a god.

In fact, these all refer to the same thing. The true King of the Universe must undergo six transformations more painful than death.

The first is the infusion of the Kadith Black Dragon’s breath, the second is the infusion of the highest dragon power, the Golden Dragon’s breath, and the third is the ultimate trial of a thousand dragons.

No matter what, even if Saan could survive with Yun Shang’s help, for a proud king, it was already no different from death. A true Dark Emperor would never allow others to save him.

The Cadis Dragons would never intervene, for they knew all too well—Saan would rather die than accept interference.

The Invisible Sword had revealed itself, yet it now carried an even more formidable, swifter, and unimaginable force—unstoppable, crushing like ten thousand tons—as it thrust toward Saan’s head. Saan had nothing to block it.

Yet he raised his head and smiled. His handsome, almost demonically charming face bloomed with a smile no one could decipher—a smile so profound it could pierce the heart.

Then, starting from Saan’s long hair, his face, his shoulders, his slender body, down to every part of him, erupted with a radiance so blinding it defied human description. Not even hundreds of thousands of suns could rival it. The others present had to shield their eyes with their power to avoid being blinded.

Saan was entirely engulfed in that sphere of light—a brilliance akin to the universe’s first great explosion, condensing all energy into a single point before erupting. Or perhaps like the first ray of light after ten thousand years of darkness, illuminating all shadows and turning all light into darkness.

This unimaginable radiance slowly expanded, carrying an extraordinary force that seemed unstoppable. Yang Hao’s Invisible Sword appeared utterly ridiculous within this power, flung away without even touching Saan.

**”The Great Radiance Technique! Damn it, it’s the Great Radiance Technique!!”** Cadis roared in fury as the dragons swiftly wrapped their wings around themselves.

Among the demonic races, they fared better. The lesser demons, however, suffered miserably under this unstoppable light—their bodies emitting thick black smoke, scorched by the radiance.

This was no surprise. Though all belonged to the divine races, the dark-aligned demons were inherently opposed to light. And the Great Radiance Technique Saan unleashed was the pinnacle of light-based magic. Fortunately, his target wasn’t the demons below—otherwise, countless would have perished.

The Great Radiance Technique was revered as the supreme art among the divine races. Legends claimed only the King of Radiant Angels could wield it. Few in this world had ever witnessed it, for those who had were often consumed by its light, pierced by its sword.

In the buried war of gods and demons, the final stronghold of the Radiant Angels was besieged by the Dark Angels. The battle raged until corpses littered the land, and the Dark Angels neared total victory. But at the critical moment, a twelve-winged Radiant Angel unleashed this forbidden technique—an endless surge of blinding white light that withered the wings of the Dark Angels, slaying thousands in an instant and reversing the tide of war.

From then on, none dared attack the Radiant Angels’ stronghold, for the Great Radiance Technique was inscribed within, ready to annihilate any who bore darkness.

Yet now, the long-dormant Great Radiance Technique had resurfaced. What truly shocked all was that the one wielding it was none other than Saan, the King of Dark Angels.

A ruler of darkness, wielding the supreme art of light—was Saan truly the union of darkness and light, an invincible god beyond all challenge?

Amid the demons’ howls, Saan’s radiance did not wane. Instead, it grew brighter, expanding further—even beginning to creep toward Yang Hao in the distance.

Yang Hao was now reaping the consequences. He had assumed the divine races were like his past foes, vulnerable to a single strike. But how could he have known the weight a king placed on his dignity? A king could die, could perish—but never be defeated. Thus, Saan risked harming his kin, risked upheaval, to unleash the Great Radiance Technique. He would never allow a mere mortal to harm him—not even a single feather.

The unstoppable Great Radiance Technique closed in on Yang Hao. He felt its oppressive force. He had always believed darkness alone was evil, yet under this blinding pressure, he sensed a sinister aura—seductive, intoxicating, but fatal in its embrace.

Yang Hao couldn’t move, yet he wasn’t surprised. Perhaps this outcome was inevitable. For him now, facing the Dark King and witnessing this supreme technique before death was the best possible end.

The white sphere of the Great Radiance Technique expanded rapidly, devouring everything—air, sunlight, clouds, even time itself—engulfed by its endless white. At unimaginable speed, the light reached Yang Hao. When the first ray touched his fingertip—

He felt pain.

Unlike any before. Yang Hao had known pain—when wounded by enemies, when his loved ones died for him, when loyal subjects were buried, even when Hunyuanzi was devoured by the Black Dragon. But this pain was unprecedented—searing his skin, seeping into his blood, piercing his heart. His fingertip burned, and indeed, white flames bloomed there, scorching his flesh bit by bit.

Then, another fire surged from his dantian—a black flame, buried within him unnoticed. But as the Great Radiance Technique struck, this black fire stirred, rising unbidden to clash with the white.

Yang Hao writhed in agony.

Light and darkness—forces of opposing natures—converged within him. Perhaps he didn’t realize it, but this was a pivotal moment, a cosmic event millennia in the making. Countless lives had risen and fallen, as if awaiting this very instant.

Yet all Yang Hao felt was tearing. He couldn’t know the black flame stemmed from the Black Dragon’s breath—a dark force now colliding with the light, unleashing energies from the universe’s deepest secrets.

Even the birth and destruction of the cosmos originated from such power.

But Yang Hao was swept into a vortex. Two opposing energies flooded his body, shredding every inch of his skin, meridians, and blood. He was nearly torn apart.

**”Ah!!! Ah!!!!!!”** Yang Hao screamed. Light pierced his roaring mouth, his palms, his heart, his limbs—everything was engulfed.

White and black light merged, creating a spectacle of surreal beauty. Yang Hao, now a blazing figure in the sky, became a swirling inferno.

The most stunned were the high-ranking divine beings watching. Yun Shang and Cadis were speechless. Only they understood what was happening—yet even faced with the truth, they deemed it impossible. For this was but a legend, a tale even the divine races regarded as myth.

To trace this legend’s origin, one must return to the universe’s birth. The cosmos all lived in now sprang from a mysterious explosion eons ago—the Big Bang from a singularity, history’s greatest enigma. From it came the boundless universe, stars, life, divine races, and mortal beings.

With the explosion, two forces emerged—light and darkness, distinct and opposing. The divine races aligned with these forces split into two factions: one led by Yun Shang’s Radiant Angels, the other by Saan and the Cadis Dragons. These factions were eternal enemies.

Yet a legend persisted—if one could merge light and darkness within, they would surpass all divine power, becoming an invincible warrior and ascending as the universe’s sovereign.

The Cosmic King.

But legends remained legends. None had ever achieved this, for light and darkness were antithetical—mutually destructive, canceling each other out. To unite them was near impossible.

Even if someone, by chance, harbored both forces, balance was key. When one dominated, the other was suppressed, preventing full potential. Only when light and darkness reached perfect equilibrium could one ascend as the God of Radiance.

Among the Cadis Dragons, a legend spoke of three dragon breaths transforming one into a dragon.

Among the Radiant Angels, three infusions of light could make a god.

In truth, these were one and the same. The true Cosmic King had to endure six near-fatal transformations.

The first was the Black Dragon’s breath, the second the Golden Dragon’s (the highest among dragons), and the third the trial of a thousand dragons.

For light, the first was the Great Radiance Technique’s baptism. The latter two remained unknown, for none had lived to tell.

This was the so-called chance. Yang Hao, at Dragon Cliff, had endured the Black Dragon’s breath with Hunyuanzi’s pill, completing his first transformation. Now, Saan’s Great Radiance Technique was light’s first trial.

If Yang Hao survived, he would become the world’s most miraculous wonder—the first to merge light and darkness, a candidate for the Cosmic King ordained by the Creator.

**”This can’t be!!”** Yun Shang stared at the blazing figure in the sky, where Yang Hao’s form was lost amid the clashing forces.

**”Roar!!”** The Cadis Black Dragon howled at the sky, sensing the world tremble—the heavens, the earth, even the clouds shifting subtly, as if trembling before a king’s arrival.

The world darkened, then flared anew. The clouds parted, revealing a pristine blue sky.

The fierce flames around Yang Hao and Saan’s radiant sphere vanished in a deafening explosion—a blast so vast even the divine races reeled. Space itself quaked, sending Dark Angels tumbling from the skies.

Those on the ground fared no better. Lesser demons like Xinmei collapsed, enduring this divine earthquake.

The cataclysm lasted ten minutes, leveling structures across the divine realm. When the dust settled, the aftermath was clear.

This was the explosion’s residue—the collision between Yang Hao’s transforming body and Saan’s Great Radiance Technique. In such blasts, only one survivor remained.

If Saan’s technique prevailed, Yang Hao would die—unable to complete his transformation, unfit to be the Cosmic King’s candidate.

If Yang Hao won, Saan would fall. Only by withstanding the Great Radiance Technique could Yang Hao prove his miracle.

Despite lingering tremors, the divine races craned their necks skyward. Whether in relief or disappointment, they saw Saan standing unharmed on the clouds, his six silver-tinged wings now folded back to pure black.

Yang Hao, however, was a charred wreck—seemingly roasted alive as he plummeted to the ground, motionless, devoid of life.

Divine senses revealed invisible flames still raging within him. Soon, they would consume him entirely.

**”He lost,”** Cadis growled. **”Loss means death. He was no savior.”**

Yun Shang’s face twitched, but he stayed silent. The evidence was undeniable. Yang Hao had failed, perished—unworthy of the Creator’s choice.

Yun Shang sighed, drained of strength, unable even to extinguish Yang Hao’s inner flames. All watched as the fire devoured his dwindling life. To them, if Yang Hao wasn’t the savior, he was expendable.

Then, a voice cut through the silence.

Saan’s icy words fell from the sky: **”He won.”**

**”Won?”** Cadis roared in disbelief. Yang Hao was at death’s door, while Saan stood unscathed. The outcome seemed obvious.

Yet soon, the dragon fell silent. Something drifted down from the sky—a feather, insignificant at any other time, but now, everything.

It was black at first—pure, demonic black. But as it fell, it lightened to gray, then white, finally landing as a gleaming silver feather.

A feather from the Dark Angel King’s wing.

Gasps erupted. All knew an angel’s feathers were part of their wings—their power. To dislodge one was to wound the wing itself.

Saan’s lost feather meant Yang Hao had prevailed. His flames could have torn Saan’s wings, yet only a single feather fell.

This didn’t mean Yang Hao surpassed Saan, but clearly, the Great Radiance Technique hadn’t harmed him. Instead, it had tempered him, completing the first fusion of light and darkness.

Though Yang Hao lay charred and motionless, his life ebbing under internal flames, he had endured the trial.

Still, no divine being moved to save him—stunned into inaction, forgetting he’d perish in moments, burned alive by backlash.

Silence reigned, time itself frozen. Only Yang Hao’s fading life flickered.

Then, a breeze stirred—carrying dampness, blue droplets that seeped into his skin, cooling the flames within.

A stranger approached—a man in his thirties with snow-white hair, an air of roguish charm. He gazed at Yang Hao with unexpected warmth, as if seeing his own child.

Yang Hao, roused by the coolness, struggled to open his scorched eyes. Meeting the stranger’s gaze, an inexplicable warmth surged within him—tears welling as he rasped, **”Master…”**

Then, darkness took him again.

The stranger smiled tenderly, lifting Yang Hao’s frail form. Ignoring the stunned divine races, he strode away, head held high.

No matter what, even if Saan could survive with Yun Shang’s rescue, for a proud king, it was already no different from death. A true Dark Emperor would never allow others to save him.

The Cadis Dragons would never intervene, for they knew all too well that Saan would rather die than accept outside help.

The Invisible Sword had revealed itself, yet it now carried an even more formidable, swifter, and unimaginable force—unstoppable, weighing like ten thousand tons—as it thrust toward Saan’s head. Saan had nothing left to block it.

Yet he raised his head and smiled. His handsome, almost demonically charming face bore a smile no one could decipher—a smile so profound it could pierce the soul.

Then, starting from Saan’s long hair, his face, his shoulders, his slender body, down to every part of him, erupted with a radiance so blinding it defied human description. Not even a hundred thousand suns could rival its intensity. The others present had to shield their eyes with their power to avoid being blinded.

Saan was entirely enveloped in that radiant sphere. The overwhelming light was like the universe’s first great explosion, condensing all energy into a single point before erupting. Or perhaps it was like the first ray of light after ten thousand years of darkness, illuminating all shadows and turning all light into darkness.

This unimaginable brilliance slowly expanded, carrying an extraordinary force that seemed utterly unstoppable. Yang Hao’s Invisible Sword appeared utterly ridiculous in the face of such power—it didn’t even make contact before being flung away to who-knows-where.

**”The Great Radiance Technique! Damn it, it’s the Great Radiance Technique!!”** Cadis Dragon suddenly roared in fury as the dragons swiftly wrapped their wings around themselves.

Compared to the others, the demonic clans fared slightly better. The mid-tier and lower-tier demons suffered far worse—their bodies billowing with thick black smoke, clearly scorched by the light.

This was no surprise. Though they were all part of the divine races, the dark-aligned demons were inherently attuned to darkness. Their mortal enemy was light. And now, Saan had unleashed the highest-tier light technique—the Great Radiance Technique. Fortunately, its target wasn’t the demons below, or countless lives would have been lost.

The Great Radiance Technique was revered as the supreme technique among the divine races. Legends claimed that only the King of the Radiant Angels could wield it. Few in this world had ever witnessed it, for those who had were often consumed by its brilliance, pierced through by the Sword of Light.

In the buried wars of gods and demons, the final stronghold of the Radiant Angels had been besieged by the Dark Angel legions. The battle raged until corpses littered the land, and the Dark Angels were on the verge of total victory. But at the critical moment, a twelve-winged Radiant Angel unleashed this forbidden technique. Endless white radiance poured from the stronghold, scorching the wings of the Dark Angels, causing them to wither and fall. That single technique slaughtered tens of thousands of Dark Angels, reversing the tide of war in an instant.

From then on, no one dared attack the Radiant Angels’ stronghold again. For the demons, the Great Radiance Technique was etched into its walls, ready to annihilate any who bore darkness.

Yet now, after ages of silence, the Great Radiance Technique had resurfaced. And what truly shook the world was that the one wielding it was none other than Saan—the King of the Dark Angels.

A ruler of darkness had unleashed the pinnacle of light. Could it be that Saan was truly the union of darkness and light—the invincible god of this world?

Amid the howls of the demons, Saan’s radiance did not fade. Instead, it grew brighter, expanding further, even beginning to creep toward Yang Hao in the distance.

Yang Hao was now reaping the consequences of his actions. He had assumed the divine races were like his past foes—easy to ambush and defeat. But how could he have known the weight a king placed on his dignity? A king could die, could perish, but he could never be defeated. Thus, Saan would rather risk harming his own kind, risk overturning the heavens, than allow an ordinary man to wound him—not even a single feather.

The unstoppable Great Radiance Technique drew closer to Yang Hao. He could feel its oppressive force. He had always believed that only darkness was evil, yet under this blinding white pressure, he sensed an eerie malevolence—a seductive, intoxicating corruption that promised only death.

Yang Hao couldn’t even move, yet he wasn’t surprised. Perhaps this outcome was inevitable. For him at this moment, merely fighting the Dark King and witnessing this supreme technique before death was already the best possible end.

The white sphere of the Great Radiance Technique rapidly expanded, devouring everything around it—air, sunlight, clouds, even time itself—all swallowed by the endless white. At an unimaginable speed, the light reached Yang Hao’s body. The moment the first ray touched his fingertip—

Yang Hao felt pain.

But this pain was unlike any before. He had suffered many times—when wounded by enemies, when his loved ones died for him, when loyal subjects were buried, even when Hunyuanzi was devoured by the Black Dragon. Each time, the agony had been unbearable.

Yet this pain was unprecedented. It was real, searing his skin, invading his blood, piercing his heart. His fingertip felt like it was burning—and it truly was. A white flower bloomed there, its holy yet sinister light consuming his flesh bit by bit.

At the same time, another flame surged from Yang Hao’s dantian—a black fire, buried within him at some unknown time, unnoticed even by himself. But when the Great Radiance Technique struck, the black fire stirred, rising unbidden to clash with the white.

Yang Hao writhed in torment.

Light and darkness—two opposing forces—finally converged within his body. Perhaps he didn’t realize it, but this was a pivotal moment in history. Across the eons of the universe, countless lives had risen and fallen, as if waiting for this very instant.

All Yang Hao felt was tearing agony. He couldn’t know that the black flame was the transformed essence of the Black Dragon’s breath—a dark power now colliding with the pinnacle of light. The energy unleashed was a secret from the deepest reaches of the cosmos.

Even the birth and destruction of the universe stemmed from such power.

Yet Yang Hao was caught in a vortex. Two utterly different energies flooded his body, shredding every inch of his skin, every meridian, every drop of blood. He was on the verge of being torn apart.

**”AHHH!!! AHHHHHH!!!!”** Yang Hao screamed. The light pierced through his roaring mouth, his palms, his heart, his limbs—everything was engulfed.

White light and black light merged, creating a spectacle of unparalleled magnificence. Yang Hao was entirely consumed by the dazzling flames, burning midair above the clouds like a blazing inferno.

At this moment, none were more stunned than the high-ranking divine beings watching. Yun Shang and Cadis Dragon were speechless. Only they understood what was truly happening—yet even with the evidence before their eyes, they found it impossible to believe. For this was a legend, a tale even the divine races regarded as myth.

To trace the origin of this legend, one must return to the birth of the universe. The cosmos all beings now inhabited originated from a mysterious explosion billions of years ago—the Big Bang from the cosmic singularity, history’s greatest enigma. From that explosion came the vast universe, the stars, life itself—both divine and mortal.

At the same time, two forces emerged: light and darkness, distinct and opposing. The divine races aligned with these forces split into two factions—one led by Yun Shang’s Radiant Angels, the other by Saan and the Cadis Dragons. These factions became sworn enemies, locked in eternal conflict.

Yet a legend persisted: if someone could fuse both light and darkness within themselves, they would surpass all divine power, becoming the invincible God of War—and ascend as the universe’s true sovereign.

The Cosmic Emperor.

But legends remained just that—no one had ever achieved it. For light and darkness were fundamentally opposed, canceling and harming each other. To unite them within a single being was near impossible.

Even if someone, by sheer chance, merged both forces, balance was key. If one power dominated, the other would be suppressed, preventing the full potential from manifesting. Only when light and darkness reached perfect equilibrium could one become the God of Radiance.

Among the Cadis Dragons, there was a legend of three dragon-breath baptisms transforming one into a dragon.

Among the Radiant Angels, tales spoke of three infusions of light elevating one to godhood.

In truth, these were one and the same. To become the Cosmic Emperor, one had to endure six near-fatal metamorphoses.

The first was baptism by the Black Dragon’s breath, the second by the Golden Dragon’s—the pinnacle of draconic power—and the third by the apocalyptic trial of a thousand dragons.

On the light side, the first trial was the Great Radiance Technique. The latter two remained unknown, for none had ever survived to experience them.

This was the convergence of fate. In the Dragon’s Lair, Yang Hao had endured the Black Dragon’s breath with Hunyuanzi’s Dragon-Breath Pill, completing his first metamorphosis. And now, Saan’s Great Radiance Technique was the first trial of light.

If Yang Hao could endure this, he would become the world’s most miraculous anomaly—the first to merge light and darkness, a candidate for the Cosmic Emperor ordained by the Creator.

**”This can’t be!!”** Yun Shang stared at the raging flames in the sky, within which Yang Hao’s form was indiscernible—caught in the struggle between light and dark.

**”ROAR!!”** The Cadis Black Dragon howled at the heavens, sensing the world tremble. The sky, the earth, even the clouds trembled subtly—as if quivering in anticipation of a king’s arrival.

The world darkened abruptly, then blazed with light. The clouds parted, revealing a pristine blue sky.

The violent flames around Yang Hao and Saan’s radiant sphere vanished in a deafening explosion—a blast so immense even the divine races reeled. Space itself convulsed, sending Dark Angels tumbling from the skies.

Those on the ground fared no better. Lower-tier demons like Xinmei collapsed, barely enduring this divine cataclysm.

The quaking lasted a full ten minutes, nearly leveling every structure in the divine realm. Only then could the onlookers see what had transpired in the sky.

This was the aftermath of an explosion—the collision between Yang Hao’s transforming body and Saan’s Great Radiance Technique. In such a clash, only one survivor was possible.

The outcome was clear. If Saan’s Great Radiance Technique had prevailed, Yang Hao would be dead—unable to complete his metamorphosis, never becoming the Cosmic Emperor’s candidate.

But if Yang Hao had won, then Saan would be the one to fall. Only by withstanding the Great Radiance Technique could Yang Hao prove his miracle.

Despite the lingering tremors, the divine races below craned their necks skyward. Whether in disappointment or relief, the first thing they saw was Saan—standing unharmed upon the clouds, his cold, imperious demeanor unchanged. His six pairs of wings, once gleaming silver, had reverted to pure black.

Yang Hao, however, was a charred wreck—his body seared black, seemingly cooked through. He plummeted from the sky, crashing lifelessly to the ground.

To the divine senses, though no flames were visible on his exterior, the true fire still raged within him. Soon, it would consume him entirely.

**”He lost,”** Cadis Dragon growled. **”And losers die. He was no savior.”**

Yun Shang’s face twitched, but he remained silent. There was no refuting the Black Dragon—the evidence was plain. Yang Hao had failed, died, unable to endure the first fusion of powers. He was not the Creator’s chosen king.

With a sigh, Yun Shang felt his strength drain away, too despondent to even extinguish the flames within Yang Hao. All the divine races watched as the fire slowly devoured what little life remained in him. To them, if Yang Hao wasn’t the prophesied one, then his death was meaningless.

Only one voice could change everything.

Saan’s icy words fell from the sky: **”He won.”**

**”Won?”** Cadis Dragon roared in disbelief. Yang Hao was at death’s door, while Saan stood unscathed. The victor was obvious.

Yet moments later, the dragon fell silent, gaping at something drifting down from the sky—a single feather, insignificant under normal circumstances, but now carrying immense significance.

It was a feather from Saan’s wing—originally pitch black, but as it descended, its color faded to gray, then white, until it landed as a gleaming silver plume.

The divine races erupted in shock. Everyone knew an angel’s feathers were inseparable from their wings—and wings symbolized power.

For a feather to fall meant Yang Hao had prevailed in this clash. His flames could have torn Saan’s wings apart, yet for some reason, only a single feather had been dislodged.

This didn’t mean Yang Hao’s power surpassed Saan’s, but it proved the Great Radiance Technique hadn’t destroyed him. Instead, it had tempered him, completing the first fusion of light and darkness.

Though Yang Hao lay broken, his life ebbing away as the internal fire consumed him, he had indeed passed the trial.

Still, no divine being moved to save him—not out of indifference, but sheer astonishment. They stood frozen, as if time itself had stopped.

Then, a breeze swept in, carrying moist droplets of blue rain. Where they touched Yang Hao’s body, they seeped in, cooling and extinguishing the flames within.

Following the rain and wind came a stranger—a man in his thirties with snow-white hair, his expression solemn yet tinged with roguish charm. He approached Yang Hao, a flicker of warmth crossing his face as if seeing his own child. With a wave, the wind and rain dissipated.

Yang Hao stirred weakly, forcing his scorched eyelids open. The first thing he saw was this unfamiliar man.

Yet inexplicably, warmth surged in Yang Hao’s heart, welling up as tears. His lips trembled as he whispered, **”Master…”**

Then, he fell unconscious once more.

The stranger smiled faintly, a rare tenderness in his expression. Cradling Yang Hao, he strode away without a glance at the stunned divine races, heading into the distance.

If Yang Hao can endure it, he will become the most incredible miracle in the world, completing the first fusion of light and darkness forces. He will become the candidate for the cosmic god destined by the Creator.

“This is impossible!!” Yun Shang exclaimed, looking at the blazing fire in the sky. Yang Hao’s body was invisible in the flames, indicating he was caught between the forces of light and darkness, fighting desperately.

“Roar!!” The Kadith Black Dragon roared toward the sky, sensing the tremors of the world. The entire sky, the entire earth, even the clouds were subtly changing. Was this change trembling in anticipation of the arrival of the king?

The world suddenly darkened, then blazed with light. In the sky, the clouds suddenly dispersed completely, revealing a deep blue hue.

No matter what, even if Saan could survive with Yun Shang’s rescue, for a proud king, it was already no different from death. A true Dark Emperor would never allow others to save him.

The Cadis Dragons would never intervene, for they knew Saan would rather die than accept interference.

The Invisible Sword had revealed itself, but it now carried an even more formidable, faster, and unimaginable force—unstoppable, weighing like a mountain as it thrust toward Saan’s head. Saan had nothing left to block it.

Yet he raised his head and smiled. His handsome, almost demonically charming face bore an enigmatic grin, so profound it could pierce the soul.

Then, starting from Saan’s long hair, his face, his shoulders, his slender body, and every part of him erupted with a light so intense it defied human description—brighter than hundreds of thousands of suns combined. The others present had to shield their eyes with their power to avoid being blinded.

Saan was entirely enveloped in that radiant sphere, like the first great explosion of the universe, where all energy concentrated into a single point before bursting forth. Or like the first ray of light after an eternity of darkness, turning all darkness into light and all light into darkness.

This unimaginable brilliance slowly expanded, carrying an extraordinary force that seemed unstoppable. Yang Hao’s Invisible Sword appeared utterly insignificant in the face of such power—it didn’t even make contact before being flung away into oblivion.

“**The Great Radiance Technique!** Damn it, it’s the Great Radiance Technique!!” Cadis the Dragon suddenly roared in fury. The dragons swiftly spread their wings, wrapping themselves tightly in defense.

Compared to the demons, they fared better. The mid and lower-tier demons suffered far worse under this unstoppable light—thick black smoke rose from their bodies as they were scorched by the radiance.

This was no surprise. Though they were all part of the divine races, the dark-aligned demons were inherently attuned to darkness, making light their mortal enemy. The Great Radiance Technique Saan had unleashed was the pinnacle of light-based magic. Fortunately, his target wasn’t the demons below—otherwise, countless more would have perished.

The Great Radiance Technique was revered as the supreme art among the divine races. Legends said only the King of the Radiant Angels could wield it. Few in this world had ever witnessed it, for those who had were often consumed by its light, pierced through by its radiant blade.

In the buried War of Gods and Demons, the final stronghold of the Radiant Angels was besieged by the Dark Angel legions. The battle raged until corpses littered the land, and the Dark Angels were on the verge of total victory. But at the critical moment, a twelve-winged Radiant Angel unleashed this forbidden technique—an endless stream of blinding white light erupted from the stronghold, withering the evil wings of the Dark Angels. That single technique slaughtered tens of thousands of Dark Angels, reversing the tide of war in an instant.

From then on, none dared assault the Radiant Angels’ stronghold, for the Great Radiance Technique, with its infinite power, was inscribed within its walls, ready to annihilate any who bore darkness.

Yet now, after ages of silence, the Great Radiance Technique had resurfaced. What truly shocked everyone was that the one wielding it was none other than Saan, the King of the Dark Angels.

A ruler of darkness had unleashed the supreme art of light. Could it be that Saan was truly the fusion of darkness and light—the invincible god of this world?

Amid the howls of the demons, Saan’s radiance did not wane. Instead, it grew brighter, expanding further, even creeping toward Yang Hao in the distance.

Yang Hao was now reaping the consequences of his actions. He had assumed the divine races were like his past foes—easy to ambush and defeat. But he never imagined how fiercely a king guarded his dignity. A king could die, could perish, but he could never be defeated. Thus, Saan would rather risk harming his kin, risk altering the heavens and earth, than allow an ordinary man to wound him—not even a single feather.

The unstoppable Great Radiance Technique drew closer to Yang Hao. He could feel its oppressive force. He had always believed darkness alone was evil, yet under this blinding white pressure, he sensed a sinister aura—one laced with enchantment, intoxicating yet fatal.

Yang Hao couldn’t move, but he wasn’t surprised. It was as if he had expected this outcome. Perhaps, for him at this moment, battling the Dark King and witnessing this supreme technique before death was the best possible end.

The white sphere of the Great Radiance Technique rapidly expanded, devouring everything around it—air, sunlight, clouds, even time itself—engulfed by the endless white. At an unimaginable speed, the light reached Yang Hao’s body. When the first ray touched his fingertip—

Yang Hao felt pain.

This pain was unlike any before. He had suffered many times—when wounded by enemies, when his loved ones died for him, when loyal subjects were buried, even when Hunyuanzi was devoured by the Black Dragon. Each time, the agony had overwhelmed him.

But this was unprecedented. It was true pain—starting from his skin, seeping into his blood, piercing his heart. Yang Hao felt his fingertip burning, and indeed, it was. A white flower bloomed there, its holy yet sinister light consuming his flesh bit by bit.

Meanwhile, another flame surged from Yang Hao’s dantian—a black fire, buried within him at some unknown time, unnoticed even by himself. But when the Great Radiance Technique struck, the black fire stirred, rushing forth unbidden to clash with the white light.

Yang Hao writhed in unbearable agony.

Light and darkness—two opposing forces—converged within his body. Perhaps he didn’t realize it, but this was a pivotal moment in history. Across eons of cosmic existence, countless lives had risen and fallen, as if waiting for this very instant.

All Yang Hao felt was tearing. He couldn’t know that the black flame was the transformed essence of the Black Dragon’s breath—a dark power now colliding with the radiant technique, unleashing energy from the deepest secrets of the universe.

Even the birth and destruction of the cosmos stemmed from such energy.

Yet Yang Hao was caught in a vortex, two opposing forces flooding his body, shredding every inch of his skin, meridians, and blood. He was on the verge of being torn apart.

“Ah!!! Ah!!!!!” Yang Hao screamed. The light pierced through his roaring mouth, his palms, his heart, his limbs—everything was engulfed.

White light and black light merged, creating a spectacle of unparalleled beauty. Yang Hao was now a blazing figure in midair, above the clouds, a roaring inferno.

The most shocked were the high-ranking divine beings watching. Yun Shang and Cadis the Dragon were speechless. Only they understood what was happening, yet even they found it impossible—even with the evidence before their eyes. For this was a legend, a tale even the divine races regarded as myth.

To trace this legend’s origin, one must return to the birth of the universe. The cosmos everyone lived in began with a mysterious explosion billions of years ago—the Big Bang from the cosmic singularity, history’s greatest enigma. From that explosion came the vast universe, the stars, life, the divine races, and ordinary beings.

At the same time, two forces emerged—light and darkness, distinct and opposing. The divine races, aligned with these forces, split into two factions: one led by Yun Shang’s Radiant Angels, the other by Saan and the Cadis Dragons. These factions were sworn enemies, locked in irreconcilable conflict.

Yet a legend persisted: if someone could fuse light and darkness within themselves, they would surpass all divine power, becoming the universe’s true invincible warrior—the Cosmic King.

But legends remained legends. None had ever achieved this, for light and darkness were opposites—mutually destructive, canceling each other out. To unite them was near impossible.

Even if someone, by sheer chance, harbored both forces, balance was key. If one dominated, the other would be suppressed, preventing the full potential from emerging. Only when light and darkness reached perfect equilibrium could one ascend as the God of Radiance.

Among the Cadis Dragons, legends spoke of three dragon-breath baptisms to become a true dragon.

Among the Radiant Angels, three infusions of light were said to forge a god.

In truth, these were one and the same. The true Cosmic King had to endure six near-fatal transformations.

The first was the baptism of the Black Dragon’s breath, the second the Golden Dragon’s—the highest among dragons—and the third the apocalyptic trial of a thousand dragons.

On the light side, the first was the Great Radiance Technique’s baptism. The latter two remained unknown, for none had ever endured them.

This was the convergence of fate. At Dragon Cliff, Yang Hao had survived the Black Dragon’s breath thanks to Hunyuanzi’s Dragon Breath Pill, completing his first transformation. Now, Saan’s Great Radiance Technique was the first trial of light.

If Yang Hao endured, he would become the world’s most miraculous anomaly—the first to fuse light and darkness, a candidate for the Cosmic King ordained by the Creator.

“Impossible!!” Yun Shang stared at the blazing figure in the sky, where Yang Hao’s body was lost in the clash of light and darkness.

“ROAR!!” Cadis the Black Dragon howled at the heavens, sensing the world tremble. The sky, the earth, even the clouds shifted subtly—as if trembling in anticipation of a king’s arrival.

The world darkened, then flared with light. The clouds parted, revealing a pristine blue sky.

The fierce flames around Yang Hao and Saan’s radiant sphere vanished in a deafening explosion—so powerful even the divine races recoiled. Space itself quaked, and the Dark Angels standing on the clouds tumbled down.

Those on the ground fared no better. Lower-tier divine beings like Xinmei collapsed, enduring the divine realm’s catastrophic quake.

The earth-shattering tremor lasted ten minutes, nearly leveling every structure in the divine realm. Only then could people see what had happened in the sky.

It was the aftermath of an explosion—the collision between Yang Hao’s transforming body and Saan’s Great Radiance Technique. In such an explosion, only one survivor was possible.

The outcome was clear: if Saan’s Great Radiance Technique prevailed, Yang Hao would die, his transformation incomplete, disqualifying him as the Cosmic King’s candidate.

If Yang Hao won, Saan would perish—defeated, unable to withstand the Great Radiance Technique. Only then would Yang Hao’s miracle be confirmed.

Despite the lingering tremors, the divine races below eagerly looked skyward. Whether in disappointment or relief, they first saw Saan standing unharmed on the clouds, his six silver-glowing wings now folded back into pure black.

Yang Hao, however, was a charred wreck—seemingly roasted alive as he plummeted to the ground, landing with a lifeless thud.

Divine senses revealed that though no flames were visible on Yang Hao’s exterior, an inner fire still raged within him. Soon, it would consume him entirely.

“He lost,” Cadis the Dragon growled. “Loss means death. He is not the savior.”

Yun Shang’s face twitched, but he remained silent. There was no refuting the Black Dragon. The facts were clear: Yang Hao had lost, died, failed the first trial. He was not the Creator’s chosen king.

Yun Shang sighed, feeling drained of all strength, too despondent to even extinguish the flames devouring Yang Hao. The divine races watched as the fire slowly consumed what little life remained in him. To them, if Yang Hao wasn’t the savior, he was expendable—worthless.

Only one voice could change everything.

Saan’s icy words fell from the sky: “He won.”

“Won?” Cadis the Dragon roared in disbelief. Yang Hao was at death’s door, while Saan stood unscathed. The victor was obvious.

Yet soon, the dragon fell silent, gaping at something drifting down from the sky—a single feather, insignificant yet unyielding, descending from the sun’s source through time and clouds.

It was a black feather—pure, demonic black—but as it fell, its color faded to gray, then white, finally landing as a gleaming silver feather.

A feather from the Dark Angel King, Saan.

Gasps erupted. Everyone knew an angel’s feathers were bound to their wings—and wings represented power.

To pluck an angel’s feather was to sever their strength.

Saan’s fallen feather meant Yang Hao had prevailed in their clash. His flames could have torn Saan’s wings, yet only dislodged a single feather.

This didn’t mean Yang Hao surpassed Saan, but it proved the Great Radiance Technique hadn’t harmed him—instead, it had empowered him, completing his first fusion of light and darkness.

Though Yang Hao lay charred and motionless, his life ebbing under the flames, he had endured the trial.

Still, no divine being moved to save him—not out of indifference, but sheer awe. They had forgotten Yang Hao’s peril, that in moments, he would die, consumed by the backlash of his own power.

Silence reigned, freezing time itself. The world stood still, save for Yang Hao’s dwindling life—seconds from extinction.

Yet the divine races remained statues.

Then, a breeze stirred, carrying moist air. As it brushed Yang Hao, blue raindrops fell—miraculously seeping into his skin, cooling the flames within.

With the rain and wind came a stranger—a man in his thirties with snow-white hair, his face solemn yet tinged with roguish charm.

He approached Yang Hao, a flicker of warmth in his eyes as if seeing his own child. With a wave, the wind and rain ceased.

Yang Hao awoke weakly, his scorched eyelids lifting to see this unfamiliar face.

Yet inexplicably, warmth surged in his heart, tears welling as he trembled, lips parting:

“Master…”

Then, darkness took him once more.

The stranger smiled warmly, lifting Yang Hao’s frail form. Ignoring the stunned divine races, he strode away, head held high.

On the ground, the divine and demon races fared even worse. Lower divine beings like Xin Mei had already prostrated themselves on the ground, struggling to endure this super earthquake in the divine realm.

The tremors that shook the very foundations lasted for a full ten minutes, almost collapsing all the buildings in this divine realm. Only then could people see what had happened in the sky.

No matter what, even if Saan could survive with Yun Shang’s help, for a proud king, it was already no different from death. A true Dark Emperor would never allow himself to be saved by another.

The Cadis Dragons would never intervene, for they knew well that Saan would rather die than accept interference.

The Invisible Sword had revealed itself, yet it now carried an even more formidable, swifter, and unimaginable force—unstoppable and crushing, descending upon Saan’s head with the weight of ten thousand mountains. Saan had nothing left to block it.

Yet he raised his head and smiled. His handsome, almost demonically charming face bore a smile no one could decipher—a smile so profound it seemed capable of piercing hearts.

Then, from Saan’s long hair to his face, his shoulders, his slender body, and every part of him, an unbearably radiant light erupted. This brilliance defied human description, surpassing even the combined light of hundreds of thousands of suns. The others present had to shield their eyes with their power to avoid being blinded.

Saan was entirely enveloped in that sphere of light, like the first great explosion of the universe, where all energy concentrated into a single point before erupting. Or perhaps like the first ray of light after ten thousand years of darkness, illuminating all shadows and turning all brightness into darkness.

This unimaginable radiance slowly expanded, carrying an extraordinary force that seemed unstoppable. Yang Hao’s Invisible Sword appeared utterly ridiculous in the face of such power—it didn’t even make contact before being flung away into oblivion.

“Great Radiance Technique! Damn it, it’s the Great Radiance Technique!!” Cadis roared in sudden fury as the dragons swiftly wrapped their wings around themselves.

Compared to the demons, they fared better. The mid- and lower-tier demons suffered far worse in this unstoppable light, their bodies emitting thick black smoke as they were scorched by the radiance.

This was no surprise. Though all belonged to the divine races, the dark-aligned demons were inherently attuned to darkness—their mortal enemy was light. And now, Saan had unleashed the highest technique of the light faction. Fortunately, his target wasn’t the demons below, or countless lives would have been lost.

The Great Radiance Technique was revered as the supreme art among the divine races. Legends claimed only the King of Radiant Angels could wield it. Few in this world had ever witnessed it, for most who did had already succumbed to the light, pierced by its sword.

During the buried war of gods and demons, the last stronghold of the Radiant Angels was besieged by the Dark Angel legions. The battle raged until corpses littered the fields, and the Dark Angels were on the verge of total victory. But at the critical moment, the twelve-winged Radiant Angel unleashed this forbidden technique—an endless stream of blinding white light erupted from the stronghold, withering and stripping the evil wings of the Dark Angels. That single technique slaughtered ten thousand Dark Angels, reversing the tide of war in an instant.

From then on, none dared attack the Radiant Angels’ stronghold, for the Great Radiance Technique, with its infinite power, was etched into its walls, ready to annihilate any who bore darkness.

Yet now, the long-dormant Great Radiance Technique had resurfaced. What truly shocked all was that its wielder was none other than Saan, the King of Dark Angels.

A ruler of darkness had unleashed the highest art of light. Could Saan truly be the fusion of darkness and light—the invincible god of this world?

Amid the demons’ howls, Saan’s radiance did not wane. Instead, it grew brighter, expanding further, even beginning to creep toward Yang Hao in the distance.

Yang Hao was now reaping the consequences of his actions. He had assumed the divine races were like his past foes—easy to ambush and defeat. But how could he have known the weight a king placed on his dignity? A king could die, could perish, but must never be defeated. Thus, Saan risked harming his kin and altering the world itself to unleash the Great Radiance Technique. He would never allow a mere mortal to harm him—not even a single feather.

The unstoppable Great Radiance Technique now closed in on Yang Hao. He felt its oppressive force fully. He had always believed only darkness was evil, yet under this blinding white pressure, he sensed an eerie malevolence—a seductive, enchanting corruption that promised only death.

Yang Hao couldn’t move, yet he wasn’t surprised. This outcome seemed inevitable. Perhaps, for him now, fighting the Dark King and witnessing this peerless technique before death was the best possible end.

The white sphere of the Great Radiance Technique expanded rapidly, devouring everything around it—air, sunlight, clouds, even time itself—all swallowed by the endless white. At an unimaginable speed, the light reached Yang Hao’s body. The moment the first ray touched his fingertip—

Yang Hao felt pain.

This pain was unlike any before. He had suffered many times—when wounded by enemies, when his loved ones died for him, when loyal subjects were buried, even when Hunyuanzi was devoured by the Black Dragon. Each time, the agony had overwhelmed him.

But this was unprecedented. It was real, searing his skin, invading his blood, piercing his heart. His fingertip burned—and indeed, it was burning. A white flower bloomed there, its holy yet sinister light consuming his flesh bit by bit.

Meanwhile, another flame surged from Yang Hao’s dantian—a black fire, buried within him at some unknown time, unnoticed even by himself. But as the Great Radiance Technique attacked, the black fire stirred, rising unbidden to clash with the white.

Yang Hao writhed in torment.

Light and darkness—two opposing forces—converged within him. Perhaps he didn’t realize it, but this was a pivotal moment in history. Across eons of cosmic existence, countless lives had risen and fallen, as if waiting for this very instant.

Yang Hao only felt torn apart. How could he know the black flame was the transformed power of the Black Dragon’s breath? When it collided with the light’s technique, the energy unleashed stemmed from the universe’s deepest secrets.

Even the birth and destruction of the cosmos originated from such energy.

Yet Yang Hao was caught in a vortex. Two opposing forces flooded his body, shredding every inch of his skin, meridians, and blood. He was on the verge of being ripped to pieces.

“Ah!!! Ah!!!!!!” Yang Hao screamed. The light pierced through his roaring mouth, his palms, his heart, his limbs—everything was engulfed.

White and black light merged, creating a spectacle of surreal beauty. Yang Hao, now a blazing figure in the sky, became a roaring flame above the clouds.

The most shocked were the high-ranking divine beings watching. Yun Shang and Cadis were speechless. Only they understood what was happening—yet even with the evidence before them, they found it impossible to believe. For this was a legend, a tale even the divine races considered myth.

To trace this legend’s origin, one must return to the birth of the universe. The cosmos all lived in now began with a mysterious explosion eons ago—the Big Bang from the cosmic singularity, history’s greatest enigma. From it emerged the vast universe, stars, life, divine races, and ordinary beings.

Simultaneously, two forces were born: light and darkness, distinct and opposing. The divine races, aligned with these forces, split into two factions—one led by Yun Shang’s Radiant Angels, the other by Saan and the Cadis Dragons. These factions were mortal enemies, irreconcilable.

Yet a legend persisted: if one could fuse light and darkness within themselves, they would surpass all divine power, becoming the invincible God of War—and ascend as the universe’s sovereign.

The Cosmic King.

But legends remained legends. None had ever achieved this, for light and darkness were antithetical—mutually destructive, canceling each other out. To unite them was near impossible.

Even if someone, by chance, harbored both forces, balance was key. When one dominated, the other was suppressed, preventing full power from emerging. Only when light and darkness reached perfect equilibrium could one become the God of Radiance.

Among the Cadis Dragons, a legend spoke of three dragon-breath baptisms transforming one into a dragon.

The light-aligned divine races had their own legend: three infusions of radiant power could make a god.

In truth, both spoke of the same path. The true Cosmic King had to endure six near-death transformations.

The first was baptism by the Black Dragon’s breath, the second by the Golden Dragon’s—the dragon race’s mightiest—and the third by the apocalyptic trial of a thousand dragons.

On the light’s side, the first was the Great Radiance Technique’s baptism. The latter two remained unknown, for none had ever experienced them.

This was the serendipity Yang Hao now faced. At Dragon Cliff, Hunyuanzi’s Dragon Breath Pill had helped him survive the Black Dragon’s breath, completing his first transformation. Now, Saan’s Great Radiance Technique was the light’s first trial.

If Yang Hao endured, he would become the world’s most miraculous wonder—the first to fuse light and darkness, a candidate for the Cosmic King ordained by the Creator.

“Impossible!!” Yun Shang stared at the roaring flames in the sky, within which Yang Hao’s form was indiscernible, caught between light and darkness.

“Roar!!” The Cadis Black Dragon howled at the sky, sensing the world tremble. The heavens, the earth, even the clouds shifted subtly—as if trembling in anticipation of a king’s arrival.

The world darkened abruptly, then blazed with light. The clouds parted, revealing a pristine blue sky.

The fierce flames around Yang Hao and Saan’s radiant sphere vanished in a deafening explosion—so powerful even the divine races recoiled. Space itself quaked, and Dark Angels standing on the clouds tumbled downward.

Those on the ground fared no better. Lower-tier divine beings like Xinmei collapsed, enduring the divine realm’s catastrophic quake.

The earth-shattering tremors lasted ten minutes, toppling nearly every structure in the divine realm. Only then could the onlookers see what had transpired in the sky.

This was the aftermath of an explosion—the collision between Yang Hao’s transforming body and Saan’s Great Radiance Technique. In such an explosion, only one survivor was possible.

The outcome was clear: if Saan’s technique prevailed, Yang Hao would die, his transformation incomplete, disqualifying him as the Cosmic King’s candidate.

If Yang Hao won, Saan would fall—proving even the Great Radiance Technique couldn’t stop him, cementing his miracle.

Despite the lingering tremors, the divine races below craned their necks skyward. Whether in disappointment or relief, they first saw Saan standing unharmed on the clouds, his six wings—once silver-glowing—now folded into pure black.

Yang Hao, however, was a charred wreck, seemingly roasted alive as he plummeted to the ground, motionless upon impact, devoid of life.

The divine races’ spiritual sight revealed invisible flames still raging within him. Soon, they would consume him entirely.

“He lost,” Cadis growled. “Loss means death. He was no savior.”

Yun Shang’s face twitched, but he remained silent. The evidence was undeniable. Yang Hao had failed, died, and hadn’t passed the first fusion trial. He wasn’t the Creator’s chosen king.

Yun Shang sighed, feeling drained. He lacked even the strength to extinguish Yang Hao’s inner flames. All watched as the fire slowly devoured Yang Hao’s dwindling life. To them, if he wasn’t the savior, he was expendable—worthless.

Then, a voice cut through the silence like ice.

“He won.”

Saan’s words fell from the sky.

“Won?” Cadis roared incredulously. Yang Hao was at death’s door, while Saan stood unscathed. The victor was obvious.

Yet soon, the dragon fell silent, gaping at something drifting down from the sun’s source—through time, through clouds, descending stubbornly.

A single feather.

Insignificant under normal circumstances, but now—utterly different.

This feather had been black, pure as a demon’s heart. Yet as it fell, its hue lightened—from black to gray, then white, until it landed as a gleaming silver feather.

It had fallen from the Dark Angel King’s wing.

Gasps erupted. All knew an angel’s feathers were part of their wings—their power. To pluck one was to sever their strength.

Saan’s lost feather meant Yang Hao had prevailed in their clash. His flames could have torn Saan’s wings, yet only dislodged a single feather.

This didn’t mean Yang Hao surpassed Saan, but clearly, the Great Radiance Technique hadn’t harmed him. Instead, it had strengthened him, completing his baptism—the first fusion of light and darkness.

Though Yang Hao lay charred and motionless, his life ebbing as inner flames consumed him, he had passed the trial.

Still, no divine being moved to save him—stunned into inaction, they forgot his imminent death. The backlash of the flames would soon claim him.

Silence replaced breath, freezing time. The world stood still, save for Yang Hao’s dwindling life—seconds from extinction.

Yet the divine races remained statues.

Then, a breeze stirred, carrying dampness. As it brushed Yang Hao, blue raindrops fell from the wind, seeping into his skin, cooling and extinguishing the inner flames.

With the rain and wind came a stranger—a man in his thirties with snow-white hair, his face solemn yet tinged with roguish charm. He approached Yang Hao, his expression softening as if seeing his own child. With a wave, the wind and rain vanished.

Yang Hao awoke weakly, his scorched eyelids lifting to see this unfamiliar man.

Yet inexplicably, warmth surged in his heart, tears welling as his lips trembled.

“Master…”

Then, darkness took him again.

The stranger smiled warmly, lifting Yang Hao’s frail form. Ignoring the stunned divine races, he strode away, head held high.

No matter what, even if Saan could survive with Yun Shang’s rescue, for a proud king, it was no different from death. A true Dark Emperor would never allow others to save him.

The Cadis Dragons would never intervene because they knew Saan would rather die than accept help.

The Invisible Sword had revealed itself, but it now carried an even more powerful, faster, and unimaginable force, unstoppable and crushing, plunging toward Saan’s head. Saan had nothing to block it.

Yet he looked up and smiled. His handsome, almost demonically charming face bore an enigmatic expression—one so profound it could pierce the soul.

Then, starting from Saan’s long hair, his face, his shoulders, his slender body, and every part of him erupted with blinding light. This radiance was beyond human description, surpassing even the brilliance of a hundred thousand suns. The others present had to shield their eyes with their power to avoid being blinded.

Saan was entirely enveloped in that light, like the first cosmic explosion, where all energy was concentrated into a single point before bursting forth. Or like the first ray of light after ten thousand years of darkness, illuminating all shadows and turning all brightness into darkness.

This unimaginable brilliance slowly expanded, carrying an extraordinary force that seemed unstoppable. Yang Hao’s Invisible Sword appeared utterly insignificant in the face of such power—it didn’t even make contact before being flung away into oblivion.

“Great Radiance Technique! Damn it, it’s the Great Radiance Technique!!” Cadis the Dragon roared in fury as the dragons swiftly wrapped their wings around themselves.

Compared to the demons, they fared better. The mid and lower-tier demons suffered miserably under the unstoppable light, their bodies emitting thick black smoke as they were scorched by the radiance.

This was no surprise. Though they were all part of the divine races, the dark-aligned demons were inherently attuned to darkness—their mortal enemy was light. And now, Saan had unleashed the highest-tier light-based technique. Fortunately, his target wasn’t the demons below, or countless lives would have been lost.

The Great Radiance Technique was revered as the supreme art among the divine races. Legends said only the King of the Radiant Angels could wield it. Few in the world had ever witnessed it, for those who did were often consumed by its light, pierced through by the Sword of Radiance.

In the buried War of Gods and Demons, the Radiant Angels’ last sanctuary was besieged by the Dark Angel army. The battle raged until corpses littered the ground, and the Dark Angels were on the verge of total victory. But at the critical moment, the twelve-winged Radiant Angel unleashed this forbidden technique—an endless stream of blinding white light erupted from the sanctuary, withering the evil wings of the Dark Angels. That single technique slaughtered tens of thousands of Dark Angels, reversing the tide of war.

Since then, none dared attack the Radiant Angels’ sanctuary, for the Great Radiance Technique, with its infinite power, was etched into its walls, ready to annihilate any who bore darkness.

Yet now, the long-dormant Great Radiance Technique had resurfaced. What truly shocked everyone was that the one wielding it was none other than Saan, the King of the Dark Angels.

A ruler of darkness had unleashed the pinnacle of light. Could it be that Saan was truly the fusion of darkness and light—the invincible god of this world?

Amid the demons’ howls, Saan’s radiance did not fade. Instead, it grew brighter, expanding further, even beginning to creep toward Yang Hao in the distance.

Yang Hao was now reaping the consequences of his actions. He had assumed the divine races were like his past opponents—easy to ambush and defeat. But he never imagined how fiercely a king guarded his dignity. A king could die, could perish, but could never be defeated. Thus, Saan risked harming his own kind, risked altering the very fabric of the world, just to unleash the Great Radiance Technique. He would never allow an ordinary man to harm him—not even a single feather.

The unstoppable Great Radiance Technique drew closer to Yang Hao. He could feel its oppressive force. He had always believed darkness alone was evil, yet under this blinding white pressure, he sensed something sinister—an allure so intoxicating it promised only death.

Yang Hao couldn’t move, but he wasn’t surprised. This outcome seemed inevitable. Perhaps, for him at this moment, fighting the Dark King and witnessing this supreme technique before death was the best possible ending.

The white radiance rapidly expanded, devouring everything—air, sunlight, clouds, even time itself—engulfed by the endless white. At an unimaginable speed, the light reached Yang Hao. When the first ray touched his fingertip—

Yang Hao felt pain.

This pain was unlike any before. He had suffered many times—when wounded by enemies, when his loved ones died for him, when loyal subjects were buried, even when Hunyuanzi was devoured by the Black Dragon. Each time, the agony had been unbearable.

But this was unprecedented. It was real, starting from his skin, seeping into his blood, piercing his heart. His fingertip burned—and indeed, it was burning. A white flower bloomed there, its holy yet sinister glow consuming his flesh bit by bit.

Meanwhile, another flame surged from Yang Hao’s dantian—a black fire, buried within him at some unknown time, unnoticed even by himself. But as the Great Radiance Technique attacked, the black fire stirred, rising unbidden to clash with the white.

Yang Hao writhed in agony.

Light and darkness, forces of opposing natures, converged within him. Perhaps he didn’t realize it, but this was a pivotal moment—an epochal instant the universe had awaited since time immemorial.

Yang Hao only felt torn apart. He couldn’t know that the black flame was the transformed essence of the Black Dragon’s breath, a dark power. When it collided with the light-based technique, the energy released was a secret from the deepest reaches of the cosmos.

Even the birth and destruction of the universe stemmed from such energy.

But Yang Hao was caught in a vortex. Two opposing forces surged through him, shredding every inch of his skin, every meridian, every drop of blood. He was on the verge of being torn to pieces.

“AHHH!!! AHHHH!!!!!” Yang Hao screamed. Light pierced through his roaring mouth, his palms, his heart, his limbs—everything was engulfed.

White light and black light merged, creating a spectacle of unparalleled beauty. Yang Hao was now a blazing figure in the sky, a roaring flame above the clouds.

The most shocked were the high-ranking divine beings watching. Yun Shang and Cadis the Dragon were speechless. Only they understood what was happening—yet even they found it impossible, even as it unfolded before their eyes. Because this was a legend, a story even the divine races considered myth.

To trace this legend’s origin, one must go back to the birth of the universe. The cosmos everyone lived in began with a mysterious explosion billions of years ago—the Big Bang from the cosmic singularity, history’s greatest enigma. From that explosion came the vast universe, the stars, life, the divine races, and ordinary beings.

At the same time, two forces emerged—light and darkness, distinct and opposing. The divine races aligned with these forces split into two factions: one led by Yun Shang’s Radiant Clan and the Radiant Angels, the other by Saan and the Cadis Dragons. These factions were mortal enemies, irreconcilable.

Yet a legend persisted: if someone could fuse light and darkness within themselves, they would surpass all divine power, becoming the invincible God of War—and ascend as the universe’s sovereign.

The Cosmic King.

But legends remained legends. No one had ever achieved this, for light and darkness were opposing forces—mutually destructive, canceling each other out. To unite them was near impossible.

Even if someone, by chance, gathered both powers, balance was key. When one force dominated, the other would be suppressed, preventing the full potential from emerging. Only when light and darkness reached perfect equilibrium could one become the God of Radiance.

Among the Cadis Dragons, there was a legend of three dragon-breath baptisms transforming one into a dragon.

Among the Radiant faction, there was a tale of three infusions of light power leading to godhood.

In truth, both spoke of the same thing. The true Cosmic King had to endure six near-fatal transformations.

The first was baptism by the Cadis Black Dragon’s breath, the second by the Golden Dragon’s—the highest among dragons—and the third by the apocalyptic trial of a thousand dragons.

On the light side, the first was the Great Radiance Technique’s baptism. The latter two remained unknown, for none had ever experienced them.

This was the so-called twist of fate. At Dragon Cliff, Yang Hao had endured the Black Dragon’s breath thanks to Hunyuanzi’s Dragon Breath Pill, completing his first transformation. Now, Saan’s Great Radiance Technique was the first light-based trial.

If Yang Hao survived, he would become the world’s most miraculous anomaly—the first to fuse light and darkness, a candidate for the Cosmic King ordained by the Creator.

“Impossible!!” Yun Shang stared at the roaring flames in the sky, within which Yang Hao’s body was invisible, caught in the struggle between light and dark.

“ROAR!!” Cadis the Black Dragon howled at the sky, sensing the world tremble. The heavens, the earth, even the clouds shifted subtly—as if trembling in anticipation of a king’s arrival.

The world darkened, then blazed with light. The clouds parted, revealing a pristine blue sky.

The fierce flames around Yang Hao and Saan’s radiant white sphere vanished in a deafening explosion—so powerful even the divine races couldn’t endure it. Space itself quaked, and the Dark Angels standing on the clouds tumbled down.

The divine and demonic races on the ground fared no better. Lower-tier beings like Xinmei collapsed, barely enduring this divine earthquake.

The cataclysmic tremors lasted ten minutes, nearly leveling every structure in the divine realm. Only then could people see what had happened in the sky.

This was the aftermath of an explosion—the collision between Yang Hao’s transforming body and Saan’s Great Radiance Technique. In such an explosion, only one survivor was possible.

The outcome was clear. If Saan’s Great Radiance Technique prevailed, Yang Hao would die—a corpse couldn’t complete the transformation, nor become the Cosmic King’s candidate.

If Yang Hao won, Saan would perish, defeated. Only by withstanding the Great Radiance Technique could Yang Hao prove his miracle.

Despite the lingering tremors, the divine races below eagerly looked skyward. Whether in disappointment or relief, they first saw Saan standing unharmed on the clouds, his usual cold, arrogant demeanor intact. His six wings, which shimmered silver when spread, were now folded, pure black once more.

Yang Hao, however, was a charred wreck—utterly roasted, plummeting from the sky to crash lifelessly onto the ground.

Divine senses revealed that though no flames were visible on Yang Hao’s exterior, the true fire still raged within him. Soon, it would consume him entirely.

“He lost,” Cadis the Dragon growled. “Loss means death. He is not the savior.”

Yun Shang’s face twitched, but he remained silent. There was no refuting the Black Dragon. The facts were clear—Yang Hao had lost, died, failed the first fusion trial. He was not the Creator’s chosen king.

Yun Shang sighed, feeling drained. He lacked even the strength to extinguish the flames devouring Yang Hao. All watched as the fire slowly consumed what little life remained in him. To the divine races, if Yang Hao wasn’t the savior, he was expendable—worthless.

Only one voice could change everything.

Saan’s icy words fell from the sky: “He won.”

“Won?” Cadis the Dragon roared in disbelief. Yang Hao was at death’s door, while Saan stood unscathed. The victor was obvious.

But soon, the dragon fell silent, gaping at something drifting down from the sky—a single feather, insignificant yet unyielding, descending from the sun’s source through time and clouds.

It was a black feather, pure as a demon’s soul. But as it fell, its color lightened—from black to gray, then white, until it landed as a gleaming silver feather.

A feather from the Dark Angel King, Saan.

The crowd erupted. Everyone knew an angel’s feathers were part of their wings—and wings symbolized power.

To pluck an angel’s feather was to sever their wings.

Saan’s fallen feather meant Yang Hao had prevailed in their clash. His flames could have torn Saan’s wings, yet only dislodged a single feather.

This didn’t mean Yang Hao surpassed Saan, but it proved Saan’s Great Radiance Technique hadn’t harmed him—instead, it had strengthened him, completing his first fusion trial.

Though Yang Hao lay charred and motionless, his life ebbing away, he had indeed passed the trial.

Still, no one moved to extinguish the flames within him—not out of indifference, but sheer shock. They had forgotten Yang Hao was moments from death, his body burning from the backlash of the trial.

Silence replaced breath, freezing time. The world stood still, save for Yang Hao’s dwindling life. He might not last another moment.

Yet the divine races remained statues.

Then, a breeze stirred, carrying moist air. As it brushed Yang Hao, blue raindrops fell—miraculous droplets that seeped into his skin, cooling and quenching the flames within.

With the rain and wind came a stranger—a man in his thirties with snow-white hair, his face grave yet bearing a roguish smirk.

He approached Yang Hao, his expression softening as if seeing his own child. With a wave, the wind and rain ceased.

Yang Hao awoke with difficulty, his scorched eyelids lifting to see this unfamiliar man.

Yet inexplicably, warmth surged in Yang Hao’s heart, tears welling as he trembled and whispered, “Master…”

Then, he fell unconscious once more.

The stranger smiled warmly, lifting Yang Hao’s frail form. Ignoring the stunned divine races, he strode away, head held high.

No matter what, even if Saan could survive with Yun Shang’s help, for a proud king, it was already no different from death. A true Dark Emperor would never allow others to save him.

The Cadis Dragons would never intervene, for they knew well that Saan would rather die than accept interference.

The Invisible Sword had revealed itself, but it now carried an even more formidable, swifter, and unimaginable force—unstoppable, weighing like a mountain as it thrust toward Saan’s head. Saan had nothing to block it.

Yet he raised his head and smiled. His handsome, almost demonically charming face bore a smile no one could decipher—a profoundly unsettling one, capable of piercing straight into the soul.

Then, from his long hair to his face, his shoulders, his slender body, and every part of him, an unbearably bright light erupted. This radiance was beyond human description, surpassing even the combined brilliance of a million suns. The others present had to shield their eyes with their power to avoid being blinded.

Saan was entirely engulfed in that light, which resembled the universe’s first great explosion—all energy concentrated into a single point before bursting forth. Or perhaps it was like the first ray of light after an eternity of darkness, illuminating all shadows and turning brightness into darkness.

This unimaginable brilliance expanded slowly, carrying an unstoppable force. Yang Hao’s Invisible Sword seemed laughably insignificant in the face of such power—it didn’t even make contact before being flung away into oblivion.

“Great Radiance Technique! Damn it, the Great Radiance Technique!!” Cadis roared in fury as the dragons swiftly wrapped their wings around themselves.

Compared to them, the demons fared far worse. Many mid and lower-tier demons were engulfed in the unstoppable light, their bodies emitting thick black smoke as they were scorched by the radiance.

This was no surprise. Though both were divine beings, the dark-aligned demons were inherently opposed to light. The Great Radiance Technique Saan had unleashed was the pinnacle of light-based magic. Fortunately, its target wasn’t the demons below—otherwise, countless would have perished.

The Great Radiance Technique was revered as the supreme art among the divine. Legends claimed only the King of Radiant Angels could wield it. Few in this world had ever witnessed it, for those who did were often consumed by its light, pierced through by its sword.

During the buried war of gods and demons, the Radiant Angels’ final sanctuary was besieged by the Dark Angels. The battle raged until corpses littered the land, with the Dark Angels on the verge of victory. But at the critical moment, a twelve-winged Radiant Angel unleashed this forbidden technique—an endless, blinding radiance that withered the Dark Angels’ wings, slaying thousands in an instant and reversing the tide of war.

From then on, none dared assault the Radiant Angels’ sanctuary, for the Great Radiance Technique was etched within its walls, ready to annihilate any who bore darkness.

Yet now, after ages of silence, the Great Radiance Technique had resurfaced. What truly shocked all was that its wielder was none other than Saan, the King of Dark Angels.

A ruler of darkness had unleashed the highest art of light. Was Saan truly the fusion of light and dark, an invincible god beyond all challenge?

Amid the demons’ agonized screams, Saan’s radiance did not fade—it grew brighter, expanding further, even creeping toward Yang Hao in the distance.

Yang Hao was now reaping the consequences of his actions. He had assumed the divine were like his past foes, vulnerable to ambush. But he never imagined how fiercely a king guarded his dignity. A king could die, could perish, but never be defeated. Thus, Saan risked harming his kin and altering the world itself to unleash the Great Radiance Technique. He would never allow a mere mortal to harm him—not even a single feather.

The unstoppable Great Radiance Technique closed in on Yang Hao. He felt its oppressive weight. He had always believed darkness alone was evil, yet under this blinding pressure, he sensed a sinister aura—seductive, intoxicating, but fatal in its embrace.

Yang Hao couldn’t move, yet he wasn’t surprised. Perhaps, for him, fighting the Dark King and witnessing this supreme technique before death was the best possible end.

The white radiance expanded rapidly, devouring everything—air, sunlight, clouds, even time itself. At unimaginable speed, it reached Yang Hao. When the first ray touched his fingertip—

He felt pain.

Unlike any before. Yang Hao had known pain—when wounded by enemies, when his loved ones died for him, when loyal subjects were buried, even when Hunyuanzi was devoured by the Black Dragon. But this pain was unprecedented, searing his skin, invading his blood, piercing his heart. His fingertip burned, white flames blooming upon it, scorching his flesh bit by bit.

Then, another fire erupted from his dantian—a black flame, unnoticed until now. As the Great Radiance Technique struck, this dark fire surged forth, clashing violently with the white radiance.

Yang Hao writhed in agony.

Light and dark, opposing forces, converged within him. Unbeknownst to him, this was a pivotal moment—an epochal instant the universe had awaited since time immemorial.

All Yang Hao felt was tearing. He couldn’t know the black flame was the transformed essence of the Black Dragon’s breath, nor that its collision with the Great Radiance Technique unleashed energies from the cosmos’s deepest secrets—the very forces behind creation and destruction.

Yet Yang Hao was caught in a vortex, two opposing energies shredding his skin, meridians, and blood. He was on the verge of being torn apart.

“Ah!!! Ah!!!!!” Yang Hao screamed as light pierced his roaring mouth, his palms, his heart, his limbs—everything engulfed in radiance.

White and black light merged, creating a spectacle of surreal beauty. Yang Hao burned within this blaze, a roaring flame suspended above the clouds.

The most stunned were the high-ranking divine beings watching. Yun Shang and Cadis were speechless. Only they understood what was happening—yet even faced with the evidence, they refused to believe it. For this was a legend, a tale even the divine regarded as myth.

To trace this legend’s origin, one must return to the universe’s birth. The cosmos all lived in now had begun with a mysterious explosion eons ago—the Big Bang from a singularity, history’s greatest enigma. From it came the boundless universe, stars, life, gods, and mortals.

With the explosion came two forces: light and dark, diametrically opposed. The divine, aligned with these forces, split into two factions—one led by Yun Shang’s Radiant Angels, the other by Saan and the Cadis Dragons. These factions were eternal enemies, locked in irreconcilable conflict.

Yet a legend persisted: if one could merge light and dark within themselves, they would surpass all divine power, becoming an invincible warrior—and ascend as the universe’s sovereign.

The Universe’s King.

But legends remained legends. None had ever achieved this, for light and dark were opposing forces—mutually destructive, canceling each other out. To unite them was near impossible.

Even if someone, by sheer chance, harbored both, balance was key. If one force dominated, the other would be suppressed, preventing true power from emerging. Only when light and dark reached perfect equilibrium could one become the God of Radiance.

Among the Cadis Dragons, a legend spoke of three dragon-breath baptisms transforming one into a dragon.

Among the Radiant Angels, three infusions of light could make a god.

In truth, these spoke of the same thing. The true Universe’s King had to endure six near-fatal metamorphoses.

The first was baptism by the Cadis Black Dragon’s breath, the second by the Golden Dragon’s, and the third by the apocalyptic trial of a thousand dragons.

For light, the first was the Great Radiance Technique’s baptism. The latter two remained unknown, for none had lived to experience them.

This was the “sheer chance” Yang Hao now faced. At Dragon Cliff, he had endured the Black Dragon’s breath with Hunyuanzi’s Dragon Breath Pill, completing his first dark metamorphosis. Now, Saan’s Great Radiance Technique was his first light baptism.

If Yang Hao survived, he would become the universe’s most miraculous anomaly—the first to merge light and dark, a candidate for the Universe’s King ordained by the Creator.

“Impossible!!” Yun Shang stared at the blazing flames in the sky, within which Yang Hao’s form was invisible, caught between light and dark.

“Roar!!” The Cadis Black Dragon howled at the heavens, sensing the world tremble—the sky, the earth, even the clouds shifting subtly, as if trembling before a king’s arrival.

The world darkened, then flared bright. The clouds parted, revealing a pristine blue sky.

The flames around Yang Hao and Saan’s radiant sphere vanished in a deafening explosion—a sound so vast even the divine recoiled. Space itself quaked, sending Dark Angels tumbling from the skies.

Demons and gods on the ground fared no better. Lower-tier beings like Xinmei collapsed, enduring the divine realm’s cataclysmic quake.

The earth-shaking tremor lasted ten minutes, toppling nearly every structure in the divine realm before silence returned.

What remained was the aftermath of an explosion—the collision between Yang Hao’s transforming body and Saan’s Great Radiance Technique. In such an explosion, only one survivor was possible.

If Saan’s technique prevailed, Yang Hao would die—a corpse couldn’t complete metamorphosis, nor become the Universe’s King.

If Yang Hao won, Saan would perish in defeat. Only by withstanding the Great Radiance Technique could Yang Hao prove his miracle.

Despite lingering tremors, the divine below craned their necks skyward—unsure whether in hope or dread.

Their first sight: Saan, standing unharmed upon the clouds, his six silver-tinged wings now folded into pure black, his icy demeanor unchanged.

Yang Hao, however, was a charred wreck, plummeting lifelessly to the ground, motionless upon impact.

Divine senses revealed no visible flames on Yang Hao, yet true fire raged within him. Soon, it would consume him entirely.

“He lost,” Cadis growled. “Loss means death. He was no savior.”

Yun Shang’s face twitched, but he stayed silent. The evidence was undeniable. Yang Hao had failed, died—he wasn’t the Creator’s chosen king.

Yun Shang sighed, drained of strength, too despondent to extinguish Yang Hao’s inner flames. All watched as the fire devoured his dwindling life. To them, if Yang Hao wasn’t the savior, he was expendable—worthless.

Then, a voice cut through like ice from above:

“He won.”

“Won?” Cadis roared. Impossible—Yang Hao was at death’s door, while Saan stood unscathed. The outcome was clear.

Yet soon, the dragon fell silent, gaping at something drifting down from the sky—a single feather, insignificant yet unignorable.

It had been black, pure as a demon’s heart, but as it fell, its hue lightened—gray, then white, until it landed as a gleaming silver feather.

A feather from the Dark Angel King’s wing.

All knew an angel’s feathers were part of their wings—their power. To pluck one was to sever their strength.

Saan’s lost feather meant Yang Hao had prevailed in their clash. His flames could have torn Saan’s wings, yet only dislodged a single feather.

This didn’t mean Yang Hao surpassed Saan, but clearly, the Great Radiance Technique hadn’t harmed him—it had strengthened him, baptizing him in the fusion of light and dark.

Though Yang Hao lay charred and motionless, his life ebbing under internal flames, he had endured the baptism.

Still, no divine being moved to save him—stunned into inaction, they nearly forgot Yang Hao had seconds left to live before the backlash consumed him.

Silence reigned, time itself frozen. Only Yang Hao’s life flickered away.

Then, a breeze stirred, carrying moist air. From it fell blue raindrops that seeped into Yang Hao’s skin, cooling and quenching the flames within.

With the rain came a stranger—a man in his thirties with snow-white hair, his face grave yet tinged with roguish charm. He approached Yang Hao, his expression softening as if beholding his own child.

The wind and rain ceased at his gesture.

Yang Hao stirred, forcing open scorched eyelids to meet the stranger’s gaze.

For some reason, warmth flooded Yang Hao’s heart, tears welling as he rasped, “Master…”

Then, darkness took him once more.

The stranger smiled tenderly, lifting Yang Hao’s frail form. Ignoring the stunned divine, he strode away without a word.

No matter what, even if Saan could survive with Yun Shang’s help, for a proud king, it was already no different from death. A true Dark Emperor would never allow others to save him.

The Cadis Dragons would never intervene, for they knew all too well—Saan would rather die than accept interference.

The Invisible Sword had revealed itself, yet it now carried an even more formidable, swifter, and unimaginable force, unstoppable and crushing, plunging toward Saan’s head. Saan had nothing left to block it.

Yet he raised his head and smiled. His handsome, almost demonic face bore an enigmatic grin, so profound it could pierce the soul.

Then, starting from Saan’s long hair, his face, his shoulders, his slender body—every part of him erupted with a radiance so intense it defied human description. Not even a hundred thousand suns could rival it. The others present had to shield their eyes with their power to avoid being blinded.

Saan was entirely enveloped in that light, like the first cosmic explosion, where all energy condensed into a single point before bursting forth. Or like the first ray of light after ten thousand years of darkness, illuminating all shadows and turning brightness into obscurity.

This unimaginable brilliance expanded slowly, carrying an extraordinary force that seemed unstoppable. Yang Hao’s Invisible Sword appeared utterly ridiculous in the face of such power—it didn’t even make contact before being flung into oblivion.

“Great Radiance Technique! Damn it, it’s the Great Radiance Technique!!” Cadis roared furiously as the dragons swiftly wrapped their wings around themselves.

Compared to the demons, they fared better. The mid and lower-tier demons suffered far worse in the unstoppable light, their bodies emitting thick black smoke as they were scorched by the radiance.

This was no surprise. Though they were all part of the divine races, the dark-aligned demons were inherently attuned to darkness—their mortal enemy was light. And now, Saan had unleashed the highest-tier technique of the light faction. Fortunately, his target wasn’t the demons below, or countless lives would have been lost.

The Great Radiance Technique was revered as the supreme art among the divine races. Legends claimed only the King of the Radiant Angels could wield it. Few in this world had ever witnessed it, for those who had were often consumed by its light, pierced through by its sword.

During the buried War of Gods and Demons, the Radiant Angels’ final sanctuary was besieged by the Dark Angel legions. The battle raged until corpses littered the land, and the Dark Angels were on the verge of total victory. But at the critical moment, the twelve-winged Radiant Angel unleashed this forbidden technique—endless white light poured from the sanctuary, withering the evil wings of the Dark Angels. That single technique reversed the tide of war, slaying tens of thousands of Dark Angels in an instant.

From then on, none dared attack the Radiant Angels’ sanctuary, for the Great Radiance Technique, with its boundless power, was etched into its walls, ready to annihilate any who bore darkness.

Yet now, the long-dormant Great Radiance Technique had resurfaced. What truly shocked everyone was that the one wielding it was none other than Saan, the King of the Dark Angels.

A ruler of darkness had unleashed the pinnacle technique of light. Could it be that Saan was truly the fusion of darkness and light—the invincible god of this world?

Amid the demons’ howls, Saan’s radiance did not wane. Instead, it grew brighter, expanding further, even creeping toward Yang Hao in the distance.

Yang Hao was now reaping the consequences of his actions. He had assumed the divine races were like his past foes—easy to ambush and defeat. But he never imagined the weight a king placed on his dignity. A king could die, could perish, but could never be defeated. Thus, Saan risked harming his kin and altering the world itself to unleash the Great Radiance Technique. He would never allow an ordinary man to harm him—not even a single feather.

Now, nothing in this world could stop the Great Radiance Technique as it closed in on Yang Hao. He felt the oppressive force of the light. He had always believed darkness alone was evil, yet under this blinding pressure, he sensed a sinister aura—one laced with enchantment, intoxicating yet fatal.

Yang Hao couldn’t move, but he wasn’t surprised. This outcome seemed inevitable. Perhaps, for him at this moment, battling the Dark King and witnessing this supreme technique before death was the best possible end.

The white sphere of the Great Radiance Technique expanded rapidly, devouring everything around it—air, sunlight, clouds, even time itself—all swallowed by the endless white. At an unimaginable speed, the light reached Yang Hao’s body. The moment the first ray touched his fingertip—

Yang Hao felt pain.

This pain was unlike any before. He had suffered many times—when wounded by enemies, when his loved ones died for him, when loyal subjects were buried, even when Hunyuanzi was devoured by the Black Dragon. Each time, the agony had overwhelmed him.

But this was unprecedented. It was true pain, searing his skin, invading his blood, piercing his heart. His fingertip felt like it was burning—and indeed, it was. A white flower bloomed there, its holy yet sinister glow consuming his flesh bit by bit.

Simultaneously, another flame surged from Yang Hao’s dantian—a black fire, buried within him at some unknown time, unnoticed even by himself. But as the Great Radiance Technique struck, the black fire stirred, rushing forth to clash with the white.

Yang Hao writhed in agony.

Light and darkness—forces of opposing natures—converged within his body. Unbeknownst to him, this was a pivotal moment in history. Across eons of cosmic existence, countless lives had risen and fallen, as if waiting for this very instant.

All Yang Hao felt was tearing. He couldn’t know that the black flame stemmed from the dark power of the Black Dragon’s breath. When it collided with the light-aligned technique, the energy unleashed was a secret from the universe’s deepest core.

Even the birth and destruction of the cosmos originated from such energy.

Yet Yang Hao was caught in a vortex, two opposing forces flooding his body, shredding his skin, meridians, and blood. He was on the verge of being torn apart.

“Ah!!! Ah!!!!!” Yang Hao screamed. Light pierced through his roaring mouth, his palms, his heart, his limbs—everything was engulfed.

White and black light merged, creating a spectacle of unparalleled beauty. Yang Hao was now a blazing figure in the sky, a roaring flame above the clouds.

The most stunned were the high-ranking divine beings watching. Yun Shang and Cadis could no longer speak. Only they understood what was happening, yet even with the evidence before them, they found it impossible to believe. For this was a legend—a tale even the divine races regarded as myth.

To trace this legend’s origin, one must return to the birth of the universe. The cosmos everyone inhabited began with a mysterious explosion eons ago—the Big Bang from the cosmic singularity, history’s greatest enigma. From it emerged the vast universe, stars, life, the divine races, and ordinary beings.

With the Big Bang came two forces: light and darkness, distinct and opposing. The divine races aligned with these forces split into two factions—one led by Yun Shang’s Radiant Angels, the other by Saan and the Cadis Dragons. These factions were sworn enemies, locked in irreconcilable conflict.

Yet a legend persisted: if someone could fuse light and darkness within themselves, they would surpass all divine power, becoming the invincible God of War—and ascend as the universe’s sovereign.

The Cosmic King.

But legends remained just that. None had ever achieved this, for light and darkness were opposing forces—mutually destructive, canceling each other out. To unite them was near impossible.

Even if someone, by sheer chance, harbored both powers, balance was key. When one force dominated, the other would be suppressed, preventing the full potential from manifesting. Only when light and darkness reached perfect equilibrium could one become the God of Light.

Among the Cadis Dragons, a legend spoke of three baptisms by dragon breath transforming one into a dragon.

The light-aligned divine races had their own legend—three infusions of light power to ascend as a god.

In truth, both spoke of the same path. The true Cosmic King must endure six excruciating transformations.

The first was baptism by the Black Dragon’s breath, the second by the Golden Dragon’s (the highest among dragons), and the third by the apocalyptic trial of a thousand dragons.

On the light side, the first was the Great Radiance Technique’s baptism. The latter two remained unknown, for none had ever endured them.

This was the so-called twist of fate. In the Dragon Cliff, Yang Hao had survived the Black Dragon’s breath thanks to Hunyuanzi’s Breath Pill, completing his first transformation. Now, Saan’s Great Radiance Technique was the first trial of light.

If Yang Hao endured, he would become the world’s most miraculous anomaly—the first to fuse light and darkness, a candidate for the Cosmic King ordained by the Creator.

“This can’t be!!” Yun Shang stared at the roaring flames in the sky, within which Yang Hao’s body was invisible, caught in the struggle between light and dark.

“ROAR!!” The Cadis Black Dragon howled at the heavens, sensing the world tremble. The sky, the earth, even the clouds—all shifted subtly, as if trembling in anticipation of a king’s arrival.

The world darkened abruptly, then blazed with light. The clouds parted, revealing a pristine blue expanse.

The flames around Yang Hao and Saan’s radiant sphere vanished in a deafening explosion—so immense even the divine races recoiled. Space itself quaked, sending Dark Angels tumbling from the skies.

Those on the ground fared no better. Lower-tier divine beings like Xinmei collapsed, enduring the divine realm’s catastrophic quake.

The earth-shaking tremor lasted ten full minutes, toppling nearly every structure in the divine realm before the skies cleared.

This was the aftermath of an explosion—the collision between Yang Hao’s transforming body and Saan’s Great Radiance Technique. In such a clash, only one survivor was possible.

If Saan’s technique prevailed, Yang Hao would die, his transformation incomplete. He would never become the Cosmic King’s candidate.

If Yang Hao won, Saan would fall—defeated, unable to withstand even the Great Radiance Technique. Only then would Yang Hao’s miracle be confirmed.

Despite the lingering tremors, the divine races below craned their necks skyward. Whether in disappointment or relief, they first saw Saan standing unharmed on the clouds, his six silver-glowing wings now folded back into pure black, his icy demeanor unchanged.

Yang Hao, however, was a charred wreck, seemingly roasted alive as he plummeted to the ground, landing with a lifeless thud.

To the divine senses, though no flames were visible on Yang Hao’s exterior, the true fire still raged within. Soon, it would consume him entirely.

“He lost,” Cadis rumbled. “Loss means death. He is not the Chosen One.”

Yun Shang’s face twitched, but he remained silent. The evidence was undeniable. Yang Hao had failed, died without completing the first fusion. He was not the Creator’s chosen king.

With a sigh, Yun Shang felt drained, too despondent to even extinguish the flames within Yang Hao. All watched as the fire slowly devoured his dwindling life. To them, if Yang Hao wasn’t the savior, he was expendable—worthless.

Then, a single voice shattered the silence.

Saan’s icy words fell from the sky: “He won.”

“Won?” Cadis roared in disbelief. Yang Hao was at death’s door, while Saan stood unscathed. The outcome was obvious.

Yet soon, the dragon fell silent, gaping at something drifting down from the sky—a single feather, insignificant yet unwavering in its descent.

It was black at first, pure as a demon’s heart. But as it fell, the color faded—from black to gray, then white, until it landed as a gleaming silver feather.

A feather from the Dark Angel King, Saan.

Gasps erupted. Everyone knew an angel’s feathers were part of their wings—their power.

For a feather to fall meant Yang Hao had prevailed in the clash. His flames could have torn Saan’s wings, yet only dislodged a single feather.

This didn’t mean Yang Hao surpassed Saan, but it proved the Great Radiance Technique hadn’t harmed him. Instead, it had tempered him, completing the first fusion of light and darkness.

Though Yang Hao lay charred and motionless, his life ebbing under the internal flames, he had endured the trial.

Still, no divine being moved to save him—not out of indifference, but sheer awe. They stood frozen, forgetting Yang Hao had mere seconds left before the backlash consumed him.

Silence reigned, time itself seeming to halt. Only Yang Hao’s life flickered away, moment by moment.

Then, a breeze stirred, carrying moist air. From it drifted blue raindrops that seeped into Yang Hao’s skin, cooling the inferno within.

With the rain came a stranger—a man in his thirties with snow-white hair, his face solemn yet tinged with roguish charm. He approached Yang Hao, his gaze softening as if beholding his own child. With a wave, the wind and rain dissipated.

Yang Hao stirred weakly, forcing his scorched eyelids open to meet the stranger’s eyes.

For some reason, warmth surged in Yang Hao’s chest, tears welling as his lips trembled. “Master…”

Then, darkness took him again.

The stranger smiled warmly, lifting Yang Hao’s frail form. Ignoring the stunned divine beings, he strode away without a word.

Yang Hao, however, was in a pitiful state. His entire body was burned like a piece of charcoal, clearly completely charred. He fell headfirst from the sky without any resistance, crashing onto the ground and lying there motionless, showing no signs of life.

The divine beings could see with their spiritual senses that although there was no visible flame on Yang Hao’s body, the true fire was still burning fiercely inside him. Soon, he would be burned to death.

“He lost,” the Kadith Dragon growled heavily. “If he loses, he only deserves to die! He is not the savior!”

Yun Shang’s face twitched a few times, but he did not speak. He had no reason to refute the Black Dragon. This was the fact before their eyes. Yang Hao had lost, died, and failed to pass the first fusion of power. He was not the king chosen by the Creator.

Yun Shang sighed. He felt all his strength drained, so despondent he couldn’t even muster the energy to extinguish the fire within Yang Hao’s body. All the divine beings watched helplessly as Yang Hao lay there, the true fire within his body gradually consuming the last of his vitality. In the eyes of the divine beings, if Yang Hao was not the savior, then he was expendable, of no value.

At this moment, only one voice could change everything.

Sa’an’s voice fell from the sky like a piece of ice: “He won.”

“Win?” The Kadith Black Dragon raised its head in a roar. This was simply impossible. Yang Hao was barely alive, while Sa’an was unharmed. The outcome was clear.

But soon, it opened its mouth wide and could no longer make any sound. Because it saw something slowly floating down from the sky. As if coming from the source of sunlight, crossing time and space, passing through the clouds, then gradually drifting downward, although unremarkable, it was persistent.

It was a feather, a tiny feather. In other circumstances, perhaps no one would take it seriously. But now it was different, completely different.

Because that feather was originally black, pure black like a demon. But during its descent, the color gradually lightened, from black to gray, then to white. By the time it landed on the ground, it had turned into a shining silver feather.

This was a feather that had fallen from the Dark Angel King Sa’an.

Everyone was in an uproar. Everyone knew that the feathers on an angel’s wings were connected to the wings themselves, and the angel’s wings represented power.

If one could pluck an angel’s feather, it was equivalent to cutting off the angel’s wings.

A single feather drifting down from Sa’an meant only one thing: Yang Hao had won this collision. His flames could have torn Sa’an’s wings, but for some unknown reason, they only knocked off a single feather.

No matter what, even if Saan could survive with Yun Shang’s rescue, for a proud king, it was already no different from death. A true Dark Emperor would never allow others to save him.

The Cadis Dragons would never intervene, for they knew well that Saan would rather die than accept interference.

The Invisible Sword had revealed itself, but it now carried an even more formidable, swifter, and unimaginable force—unstoppable and crushing, descending upon Saan’s head with the weight of ten thousand mountains. Saan had nothing to block it.

Yet, he raised his head and smiled. His handsome, almost demonically enchanting face bore a smile no one could decipher—a profoundly unsettling grin that seemed capable of piercing straight into the soul.

Then, from his long hair to his face, his shoulders, his slender body, and every inch of him, an unbearably radiant light erupted. This brilliance defied human description—not even a hundred thousand suns could rival it. The others present had to shield their eyes with their power to avoid being blinded.

Saan was entirely engulfed in that blinding radiance, like the first cosmic explosion, where all energy condensed into a single point before erupting. Or perhaps like the first ray of light after ten thousand years of darkness, illuminating all shadows and turning all light into darkness.

This unimaginable brilliance expanded slowly, carrying an overwhelming force that seemed unstoppable. Yang Hao’s Invisible Sword appeared utterly insignificant in the face of such power—it didn’t even make contact before being flung away into oblivion.

**”The Great Radiance Technique! Damn it, it’s the Great Radiance Technique!!”** Cadis roared in fury as the dragons swiftly wrapped their wings around themselves.

Compared to the demons, they fared better. The lesser and mid-tier demons suffered far worse—their bodies billowed with thick black smoke, clearly scorched by the light.

This was no surprise. Though they were all part of the divine races, the dark-aligned demons were inherently attuned to darkness, making light their mortal enemy. And now, Saan had unleashed the highest-tier light technique—the Great Radiance Technique. Fortunately, its target wasn’t the demons below, or countless would have perished.

The Great Radiance Technique was revered as the supreme art among the divine races. Legends claimed only the King of Radiant Angels could wield it. Few in this world had ever witnessed it, for most who did were consumed by its light, pierced through by its radiant sword.

In the buried war between gods and demons, the Radiant Angels’ last sanctuary was besieged by the Dark Angels. The battle raged until corpses littered the land, and the Dark Angels were on the verge of total victory. But at the critical moment, the twelve-winged Radiant Angel unleashed this forbidden technique—an endless torrent of blinding white light erupted from the sanctuary, withering the Dark Angels’ wings and slaying thousands in an instant, reversing the tide of war.

From then on, none dared attack the Radiant Angels’ sanctuary, for the Great Radiance Technique was etched within its walls, ready to annihilate any who bore darkness.

Yet now, after ages of silence, the Great Radiance Technique had resurfaced. And what truly shook the world was that its wielder was none other than Saan, the King of Dark Angels.

A ruler of darkness had unleashed the pinnacle of light. Was Saan truly the fusion of darkness and light—the invincible god none could ever defeat?

Amid the demons’ agonized screams, Saan’s radiance did not wane. Instead, it grew brighter, expanding relentlessly, even creeping toward Yang Hao in the distance.

Yang Hao was now reaping the consequences of his actions. He had assumed the divine races were like his past foes—easy to ambush and defeat. But he never imagined how fiercely a king guarded his dignity. A king could die, could perish, but he could never be defeated. Thus, Saan risked harming his own kind, risked upheaving the world itself, just to unleash the Great Radiance Technique. He would never allow a mere mortal to harm him—not even a single feather.

Now, nothing in this world could stop the Great Radiance Technique as it closed in on Yang Hao. He felt its oppressive weight fully. He had always believed darkness alone was evil, yet under this blinding white pressure, he sensed an eerie malevolence—a seductive, enchanting corruption that promised only death.

Yang Hao couldn’t move, yet he wasn’t surprised. Perhaps, for him at this moment, fighting the Dark King and witnessing this supreme technique before death was the best possible end.

The white radiance expanded rapidly, devouring everything—air, sunlight, clouds, even time itself—engulfed by its endless brilliance. At unimaginable speed, the light reached Yang Hao. When the first ray touched his fingertip—

He felt pain.

A pain unlike any before. Yang Hao had suffered many times—when wounded by enemies, when his loved ones died for him, when loyal subjects were buried, even when Hunyuanzi was devoured by the Black Dragon. But this pain was unprecedented—searing his skin, seeping into his blood, piercing his heart.

His fingertip burned, and indeed, it was burning. A white flower bloomed there, its holy yet sinister glow consuming his flesh bit by bit.

Then, another flame erupted from his dantian—a black fire, buried within him without his knowledge. But as the Great Radiance Technique struck, the black fire surged forth, clashing violently with the white light.

Yang Hao writhed in agony.

Light and darkness—two opposing forces—converged within him. Unbeknownst to him, this was a pivotal moment in history, as if the universe itself had waited eons for this instant.

Yet all Yang Hao felt was tearing. He didn’t know the black flame stemmed from the Black Dragon’s breath, a dark power now colliding with the pinnacle of light. The energy unleashed was the universe’s deepest secret—the very force behind creation and destruction.

But Yang Hao was caught in a vortex, two opposing energies shredding his body—his skin, his meridians, his blood—into fragments. He was on the verge of being torn apart.

**”AHHHHH!!!”** Yang Hao screamed as light pierced his roaring mouth, his palms, his heart, his limbs—everything engulfed in radiance.

White and black light merged, creating a surreal spectacle. Yang Hao was now a blazing figure in the sky, a roaring flame above the clouds.

The most shocked were the high-ranking divine beings watching. Yun Shang and Cadis were speechless, for only they understood what was happening. Yet even with the evidence before them, they refused to believe it—for this was a legend, a tale even the divine races considered myth.

To trace this legend’s origin, one had to return to the birth of the universe. The cosmos they lived in was born from an enigmatic explosion eons ago—the Big Bang from the cosmic singularity, history’s greatest mystery. From it came the vast universe, the stars, life, the divine races, and ordinary beings.

With the explosion came two forces—light and darkness—utterly distinct, dividing the divine races into two factions: one led by Yun Shang’s Radiant Angels, the other by Saan and the Cadis Dragons. These factions were mortal enemies, locked in eternal conflict.

Yet a legend persisted: if one could merge light and darkness within themselves, they would surpass all divine power, becoming the invincible War God—the universe’s true ruler.

But legends remained legends. None had ever achieved this, for light and darkness were opposing forces—mutually destructive, canceling each other out. To unite them was near impossible.

Even if someone, by sheer chance, harbored both, balance was key. If one force dominated, the other would be suppressed, preventing true power from emerging. Only when light and darkness reached perfect equilibrium could one ascend as the God of Radiance.

Among the Cadis Dragons, legends spoke of three baptisms by dragon breath transforming one into a dragon.

Among the Radiant Angels, three infusions of light could forge a god.

In truth, these spoke of the same thing—the true Cosmic King had to endure six near-fatal transformations.

The first was baptism by the Black Dragon’s breath, the second by the Golden Dragon’s supreme power, and the third by the apocalyptic trial of a thousand dragons.

For light, the first was the Great Radiance Technique. The latter two remained unknown, for none had ever endured them.

And now, by sheer coincidence, Yang Hao had survived the Black Dragon’s breath in the Dragon Cliff, thanks to Hunyuanzi’s Dragon Breath Pill, completing his first transformation. And now, Saan’s Great Radiance Technique was the first trial of light.

If Yang Hao endured, he would become the universe’s most miraculous anomaly—the first to fuse light and darkness, a candidate for Cosmic God as ordained by the Creator.

**”This is impossible!!”** Yun Shang stared at the blazing figure in the sky, where Yang Hao’s body was lost in the clash of forces.

**”ROAR!!”** The Cadis Black Dragon howled at the heavens, sensing the world tremble—the sky, the earth, even the clouds shifting subtly, as if trembling before a king’s arrival.

The world darkened, then blazed anew. The clouds parted, revealing a pristine blue sky.

The flames around Yang Hao and Saan’s radiant sphere vanished in a deafening explosion—so powerful even the divine races reeled. The very fabric of space quaked, sending Dark Angels tumbling from the skies.

The lesser demons fared worse—Xin Mei and others collapsed, enduring what felt like a divine earthquake.

The cataclysm lasted ten minutes, toppling structures across the divine realm. When the dust settled, only one survivor remained.

If Saan’s Great Radiance Technique had prevailed, Yang Hao would be dead—his transformation incomplete, his candidacy void.

If Yang Hao had won, Saan would be the fallen one—proving even the Great Radiance Technique couldn’t stop him.

Despite lingering tremors, the divine races craned their necks skyward. To their mixed relief and dismay, Saan stood unharmed upon the clouds, his six silver-lined wings now folded into pure black.

Yang Hao, however, was a charred wreck—utterly lifeless as he plummeted to the ground, motionless upon impact.

Divine senses revealed invisible flames still devouring him from within. Soon, he’d be reduced to ashes.

**”He lost,”** Cadis rumbled. **”And losers die. He was no savior.”**

Yun Shang’s face twitched, but he had no rebuttal. The facts were clear—Yang Hao had failed the first trial. He wasn’t the Creator’s chosen king.

With a sigh, Yun Shang felt drained, too disheartened to even extinguish Yang Hao’s flames. To the divine races, if Yang Hao wasn’t the savior, he was expendable.

Then, a voice like ice cut through the silence from above:

**”He won.”**

**”Won?”** Cadis roared in disbelief. Yang Hao was at death’s door, while Saan stood unscathed. The outcome was obvious.

Yet soon, the dragon fell silent, gaping at a single feather drifting down from the sky—a feather that had once been pitch black but now gleamed silver.

A feather from the Dark Angel King’s wing.

Gasps erupted. An angel’s feathers were part of their power. To lose one meant their wings had been compromised.

Saan’s feather had fallen.

Yang Hao had won.

His flames could’ve torn Saan’s wings, yet only a single feather had dropped. This didn’t mean Yang Hao surpassed Saan, but it proved the Great Radiance Technique hadn’t destroyed him—instead, it had tempered him, completing his first fusion of light and darkness.

Though Yang Hao lay charred and motionless, his life ebbing under the flames, he had endured the trial.

Still, no divine being moved to save him—stunned into inaction, they watched as seconds ticked toward his death.

Then, a breeze swept in, carrying droplets of blue rain that seeped into Yang Hao’s skin, dousing the flames within.

A stranger emerged—a man in his thirties with snow-white hair, his lips curled in a roguish smirk. He approached Yang Hao with unexpected tenderness, as if meeting a long-lost child.

With a wave, the wind and rain ceased.

Yang Hao stirred, forcing his scorched eyelids open to meet the stranger’s gaze.

For some reason, warmth flooded his heart, tears welling as his lips trembled:

**”Master…”**

Then, darkness took him again.

The stranger smiled warmly, lifting Yang Hao’s frail form. Ignoring the stunned divine races, he strode away without a word.

No matter what, even if Sa’an could survive with Yun Shang’s help, for a proud king, it would be no different from death. A true Dark Emperor would never allow others to save him.

The Cadis Dragons would never intervene, for they knew Sa’an would rather die than accept interference.

The Invisible Sword had revealed itself, but it now carried an even more formidable, faster, and unimaginable force—unstoppable and crushing—as it descended toward Sa’an’s head. There was nothing he could use to block it.

Yet, he looked up and smiled. His handsome, almost demonically charming face bore an enigmatic expression, one so profound it seemed to pierce the soul.

Then, starting from his long hair, his face, his shoulders, his slender body, and every part of him, an unbearably radiant light erupted. This brilliance defied human description—millions of suns could not rival it. The others present had to shield their eyes with their power to avoid being blinded.

Sa’an was entirely engulfed in this light, like the first cosmic explosion, where all energy concentrated into a single point before erupting. Or like the first ray of light after an eternity of darkness, illuminating all shadows and turning brightness into darkness.

This unimaginable radiance expanded slowly, carrying an overwhelming force that seemed unstoppable. Yang Hao’s Invisible Sword appeared utterly insignificant within this light, flung away without even making contact.

“Great Radiance Technique! Damn it, it’s the Great Radiance Technique!!” Cadis roared furiously as the dragons swiftly wrapped their wings around themselves.

Among the demonic races, they fared better. The mid and lower-tier demons suffered far worse—their bodies emitted thick black smoke, scorched by the light.

This was no surprise. Though all were divine beings, the dark-aligned demons were inherently attuned to darkness, making light their mortal enemy. The Great Radiance Technique Sa’an unleashed was the pinnacle of light-based magic. Fortunately, its target wasn’t the demons below, or countless lives would have been lost.

The Great Radiance Technique was revered as the supreme art among divine beings, rumored to be wielded only by the King of Radiant Angels. Few in the world had ever witnessed it, for most who did were consumed by its brilliance, pierced by the Sword of Light.

During the buried War of Gods and Demons, the Radiant Angels’ last stronghold was besieged by Dark Angels. The battle raged until corpses littered the land, with the Dark Angels on the verge of victory. But at the critical moment, a twelve-winged Radiant Angel unleashed this forbidden technique—an endless surge of blinding white light erupted from the stronghold, withering the Dark Angels’ wings and slaying thousands in an instant, reversing the tide of war.

From then on, none dared attack the Radiant Angels’ sanctuary, for the Great Radiance Technique was etched within its walls, ready to annihilate any who bore darkness.

Yet now, the long-dormant Great Radiance Technique had resurfaced. What truly shocked all was that its wielder was none other than Sa’an, the King of Dark Angels.

A ruler of darkness had unleashed the ultimate light-based magic. Was Sa’an truly the fusion of darkness and light, an invincible god beyond all challenge?

Amid the demons’ agonized cries, Sa’an’s radiance only intensified, expanding further until it began creeping toward Yang Hao in the distance.

Yang Hao was now reaping the consequences of his actions. He had assumed the divine beings were like his past foes—easy to ambush and defeat. But he never imagined how fiercely a king guarded his dignity. A king could die, could perish, but never accept defeat. Thus, Sa’an risked harming his kin and altering the world itself to unleash the Great Radiance Technique. He would never allow an ordinary man to harm him—not even a single feather.

The unstoppable Great Radiance Technique closed in on Yang Hao. He felt its oppressive weight. He had always believed darkness alone was evil, yet under this blinding pressure, he sensed a sinister aura—seductive, intoxicating, but fatal.

Yang Hao couldn’t move, yet he wasn’t surprised. Perhaps, for him, fighting the Dark King and witnessing this supreme technique before death was the best possible end.

The white radiance expanded rapidly, devouring everything—air, sunlight, clouds, even time itself. In an instant, it reached Yang Hao. The moment the first ray touched his fingertip, he felt pain.

This pain was unlike any before. Yang Hao had endured much—enemy blades, loved ones dying, loyal subjects buried, even Hunyuanzi devoured by the Black Dragon. But this pain was unprecedented, searing his skin, invading his blood, piercing his heart. His fingertip burned, white flames blooming upon it, scorching his flesh bit by bit.

Simultaneously, black fire erupted from his dantian—a dark flame he hadn’t noticed within himself. But as the Great Radiance Technique struck, the black fire surged forth, clashing violently with the white light.

Yang Hao writhed in agony.

Light and darkness, opposing forces, converged within him. Unbeknownst to him, this was a pivotal moment—an epochal instant the universe had awaited since time immemorial.

All Yang Hao felt was tearing. He didn’t know the black fire stemmed from the Black Dragon’s breath, transformed into dark power. When it collided with the light, the energy unleashed held the universe’s deepest secrets—the very forces behind creation and destruction.

Yet Yang Hao was caught in a vortex, two opposing energies shredding his body—every inch of skin, every meridian, every drop of blood. He was on the verge of being torn apart.

“Ah!!! Ah!!!!!” Yang Hao screamed. Light pierced his roaring mouth, his palms, his heart, his limbs—everything was engulfed.

White and black light merged, forming a breathtaking spectacle. Yang Hao blazed in midair, a roaring inferno above the clouds.

The most stunned were the high-ranking divine beings watching. Yun Shang and Cadis were speechless. Only they understood what was happening, yet even they refused to believe it—for it was a legend, a myth even among gods.

To trace this legend’s origin, one must return to the universe’s birth. The cosmos emerged from a mysterious explosion eons ago—the Big Bang from a singularity, history’s greatest enigma. From it came the boundless universe, stars, life, divine beings, and ordinary creatures.

With the explosion, two forces arose—light and darkness, distinct and opposing. The divine beings aligned with these forces split into two factions: one led by Yun Shang’s Radiant Clan and the Radiant Angels, the other by Sa’an and the Cadis Dragons. These factions were sworn enemies, locked in eternal conflict.

Yet a legend persisted: if one could fuse light and darkness within themselves, they would surpass all divine power, becoming the invincible War God—the universe’s true ruler.

But legends remained legends. None had ever achieved this, for light and darkness were antithetical—mutually destructive. To unite them was near impossible.

Even if someone, by sheer chance, harbored both, balance was key. If one force dominated, the other would be suppressed, preventing true power from emerging. Only when light and darkness reached perfect equilibrium could one ascend as the God of Radiance.

Among the Cadis Dragons, a tale spoke of three dragon breaths transforming one into a dragon.

Among the Radiant faction, legends told of three infusions of light birthing a god.

In truth, both spoke of the same path. The true Cosmic King had to endure six excruciating metamorphoses.

The first was baptism by the Cadis Black Dragon’s breath, the second by the Golden Dragon’s, and the third by the apocalyptic trial of a thousand dragons.

For the light path, the first step was the Great Radiance Technique. The latter two remained unknown, for none had ever endured them.

This was the twist of fate. Yang Hao, atop Dragon Cliff, had survived the Black Dragon’s breath with Hunyuanzi’s Dragon Breath Pill, completing his first metamorphosis. Now, Sa’an’s Great Radiance Technique marked his first light-based trial.

If Yang Hao endured, he would become the universe’s most miraculous anomaly—the first to fuse light and darkness, a candidate for Cosmic God as ordained by the Creator.

“Impossible!!” Yun Shang stared at the blazing figure in the sky, where Yang Hao’s body was invisible, torn between light and dark.

“Roar!!” The Cadis Black Dragon howled at the heavens, sensing the world tremble—the sky, the earth, even the clouds shifting subtly, as if trembling before a king’s arrival.

The world darkened, then flared brilliantly. The clouds parted, revealing a pristine blue sky.

The flames around Yang Hao and Sa’an’s radiant sphere vanished in a deafening explosion—a blast so powerful even divine beings staggered, the very space quaking. Dark Angels tumbled from the skies.

Those on the ground fared no better. Lower-tier divine beings like Xin Mei collapsed, enduring the divine realm’s catastrophic quake.

The earth-shaking tremor lasted ten minutes, toppling nearly every structure. When it subsided, the sky revealed the aftermath.

This was the remnants of an explosion—the collision between Yang Hao’s transforming body and Sa’an’s Great Radiance Technique. In such a blast, only one could survive.

If Sa’an’s technique prevailed, Yang Hao would die, his metamorphosis incomplete, disqualifying him as the Cosmic God’s candidate.

If Yang Hao won, Sa’an would fall, defeated. Only by withstanding the Great Radiance Technique could Yang Hao cement his miracle.

Despite lingering tremors, the divine beings below craned their necks skyward. Whether in disappointment or relief, they first saw Sa’an standing unharmed upon the clouds, his six silver-lined wings now folded into pure black.

Yang Hao, however, was a charred wreck, seemingly roasted alive as he plummeted to the ground, motionless, devoid of life.

Divine senses revealed invisible flames still raging within him—soon, they would consume him entirely.

“He lost,” Cadis growled. “Loss means death. He is no savior.”

Yun Shang’s face twitched, but he remained silent. The evidence was undeniable. Yang Hao had failed, died, unworthy of the Creator’s chosen title.

Yun Shang sighed, drained of strength, too despondent to extinguish Yang Hao’s inner flames. All divine beings watched as the fire devoured his dwindling life. To them, if Yang Hao wasn’t the prophesied one, he was expendable—worthless.

Then, a voice cut through the silence like ice:

“He won.”

“Won?” Cadis roared incredulously. Yang Hao was at death’s door, while Sa’an stood unscathed. The outcome was obvious.

Yet soon, the dragon fell silent, gaping at a single feather drifting down from the sky—insignificant yet unwavering.

A feather that had been black, pure as a demon’s heart, now faded to gray, then white, finally landing as a gleaming silver strand.

A feather from the Dark Angel King’s wing.

Gasps erupted. All knew an angel’s feathers were inseparable from their wings—their power’s embodiment.

For a feather to fall meant Yang Hao had prevailed. His flames could have torn Sa’an’s wings, yet only dislodged a single feather.

This didn’t mean Yang Hao surpassed Sa’an, but clearly, the Great Radiance Technique hadn’t harmed him—it had tempered him, completing his first fusion of light and darkness.

Though Yang Hao lay charred and lifeless, his inner fire slowly extinguishing his vitality, he had endured the trial.

Still, no divine being moved to save him—stunned into inaction, they forgot his imminent death, the backlash’s flames about to claim him post-trial.

Silence reigned, time itself frozen. Only Yang Hao’s flickering life remained, seconds from extinction.

Then, a breeze stirred, carrying moist droplets that seeped into his skin, cooling the inferno within.

With the rain came a stranger—a man in his thirties with snow-white hair, his lips curled in a roguish smirk. Kneeling beside Yang Hao, his stern face softened with warmth as he waved away the storm.

Yang Hao stirred, forcing open scorched eyelids to meet the stranger’s gaze.

Somehow, warmth flooded his heart, tears welling as he rasped, “Master…”

Then, darkness took him once more.

The stranger smiled tenderly, lifting Yang Hao’s frail form. Ignoring the stunned divine beings, he strode into the distance, head held high.

No matter what, even if Saan could survive with Yun Shang’s help, for a proud king, it was already no different from death. A true Dark Emperor would never allow others to save him.

The Cadis Dragons would never intervene, for they knew all too well that Saan would rather die than accept interference.

The Invisible Sword had revealed itself, yet it now carried an even more formidable, swifter, and inconceivable power—unstoppable, weighing like a mountain as it thrust toward Saan’s head. Saan had nothing to block it.

Yet he raised his head and smiled. His handsome, almost demonically charming face bore an enigmatic grin, so profound it seemed capable of piercing hearts.

Then, starting from his long hair, his face, his shoulders, his slender body, and every part of him, an unbearably radiant light erupted. This brilliance was beyond human description, surpassing even the combined light of a hundred thousand suns. The others present had to shield their eyes with their power to avoid being blinded.

Saan was entirely enveloped in that light, like the first cosmic explosion, where all energy concentrated into a single point before bursting forth. Or like the first ray of light after ten thousand years of darkness, illuminating all shadows and turning all brightness into darkness.

This unimaginable radiance slowly expanded, carrying an overwhelming force that seemed unstoppable. Yang Hao’s Invisible Sword appeared utterly ridiculous in the face of such power—it didn’t even make contact before being flung into oblivion.

**”The Great Radiance Technique! Damn it, it’s the Great Radiance Technique!!”** Cadis roared in fury as the dragons swiftly wrapped their wings around themselves.

Compared to them, the demons fared far worse. Many mid and lower-tier demons were engulfed in thick black smoke, their bodies scorched by the light.

This was no surprise. Though they were all part of the divine races, the dark-aligned demons were inherently attuned to darkness—their mortal enemy was light. And now, Saan had unleashed the highest-tier light-based technique. Fortunately, his target wasn’t the demons below, or countless lives would have been lost.

The **Great Radiance Technique**—a supreme art among the divine races, rumored to be wielded only by the King of Radiant Angels. Few in this world had ever witnessed it, for those who did were often consumed by its light, pierced through by its radiant sword.

In the buried annals of the Divine-Demon War, the final sanctuary of the Radiant Angels was besieged by the Dark Angel legions. The battle raged until corpses littered the land, and victory seemed certain for the Dark Angels. But at the critical moment, a twelve-winged Radiant Angel unleashed this forbidden technique—an endless surge of blinding white light erupted from the sanctuary, withering the wings of the Dark Angels and slaying thousands in an instant, reversing the tide of war.

From then on, none dared attack the Radiant Angels’ sanctuary, for the Great Radiance Technique was etched into its very walls, ready to annihilate any who bore darkness.

Yet now, this long-dormant technique had resurfaced. And what truly shocked all was that the one wielding it was none other than **Saan, the King of Dark Angels**.

A ruler of darkness, wielding the pinnacle of light—was Saan truly the fusion of darkness and light, an invincible god beyond all challenge?

Amid the demons’ agonized screams, Saan’s radiance did not wane. Instead, it grew brighter, expanding further, creeping toward Yang Hao in the distance.

Yang Hao was now reaping the consequences of his actions. He had assumed the divine races were like his past foes—easy to ambush and defeat. But he never imagined how fiercely a king guarded his dignity. A king could die, could perish, but **could never be defeated**. Thus, Saan would rather risk harming his own kind, risk altering the heavens themselves, than allow an ordinary man to wound him—not even a single feather.

The unstoppable Great Radiance Technique drew closer to Yang Hao. He could feel its oppressive force. He had always believed darkness alone was evil, yet under this blinding pressure, he sensed something sinister—a bewitching allure that intoxicated before delivering death.

Yang Hao couldn’t move, yet he wasn’t surprised. Perhaps, for him now, fighting the Dark King and witnessing this supreme technique before death was the best possible end.

The white radiance swelled rapidly, devouring everything—air, sunlight, clouds, even time itself. In an instant, the light touched Yang Hao’s fingertips.

**He felt pain.**

Unlike any before. He had endured pain many times—when wounded by enemies, when his loved ones died for him, when loyal subjects were buried, even when Hunyuanzi was devoured by the Black Dragon. But this pain was unprecedented, searing his skin, invading his blood, piercing his heart.

His fingertips burned, white flames blooming upon them, scorching his flesh bit by bit.

And then, another fire erupted—this one black, surging from his dantian. He hadn’t even known it lurked within him. But as the Great Radiance Technique struck, the black flames surged forth, clashing violently with the white light.

Yang Hao writhed in agony.

Light and darkness—two opposing forces—converged within him. Unbeknownst to him, this was a pivotal moment in cosmic history. Across eons of existence, countless lives had risen and fallen, as if awaiting this very instant.

All Yang Hao felt was **tearing apart**. He didn’t know the black flames stemmed from the Black Dragon’s breath—a dark force now colliding with the pinnacle of light, unleashing energies from the universe’s deepest secrets.

Even the birth and destruction of the cosmos originated from such power.

Yet Yang Hao was caught in a vortex, two opposing energies ravaging his body, shredding his skin, meridians, and blood. He was on the verge of being torn apart.

**”AHHHHH!!!”** His screams were swallowed by the light, which now engulfed his mouth, palms, heart, limbs—everything.

White and black light merged, creating a spectacle of surreal beauty. Yang Hao was now a blazing figure in the sky, a roaring inferno above the clouds.

The most stunned were the high-ranking divine beings watching. Yun Shang and Cadis were speechless. Only they understood what was happening—yet they refused to believe it, for it was a **legend**, a tale even the divine races deemed myth.

To trace this legend’s origin, one must return to the birth of the universe. The cosmos emerged from a primordial explosion—the Big Bang—an enigma that birthed stars, life, gods, and mortals.

From that explosion, two forces arose: **Light and Darkness**, forever opposed. The divine races split accordingly—Yun Shang’s Radiant Angels and the Flash Clan on one side, Saan and the Cadis Dragons on the other.

But a prophecy spoke of one who could **fuse both light and darkness**, surpassing all gods to become the universe’s true sovereign—the **Cosmic King**.

Yet none had ever achieved this. Light and darkness were antithetical, canceling and harming each other. Even if someone miraculously harnessed both, balance was key—too much of one would suppress the other, preventing true power.

Only when **perfect equilibrium** was achieved could one ascend as the God of Radiance.

Among the Cadis Dragons, legends spoke of three dragon-breath baptisms transforming one into a dragon.

Among the Radiant Angels, three infusions of light could forge a god.

In truth, these were one and the same. The true Cosmic King required **six near-death transformations**.

The first was baptism by the Black Dragon’s breath. The second, by the Golden Dragon’s. The third, the apocalyptic trial of a thousand dragons.

For light, the first was the Great Radiance Technique. The latter two remained unknown, for none had endured them.

By sheer chance, Yang Hao had survived the Black Dragon’s breath in Dragon Cliff, thanks to Hunyuanzi’s Dragon Breath Pill. Now, Saan’s Great Radiance Technique marked his first trial of light.

If Yang Hao endured, he would become the universe’s most astonishing miracle—the first to fuse light and darkness, a candidate for Cosmic King.

**”Impossible!!”** Yun Shang stared at the blazing figure in the sky, where Yang Hao’s body was lost amidst the clashing forces.

**”ROAR!!”** The Black Dragon howled, sensing the world tremble—the sky, earth, even the clouds shifting subtly, as if trembling before a coming sovereign.

The world darkened, then flared anew. The clouds parted, revealing a pristine blue sky.

Then—**silence**.

The flames around Yang Hao and Saan’s radiant sphere vanished in a deafening explosion, shaking even the divine beings. Dark Angels tumbled from the skies; demons collapsed below.

The quake lasted ten minutes, toppling structures across the divine realm. When it subsided, only one survivor remained.

If Saan’s Great Radiance Technique had prevailed, Yang Hao would be dead—his transformation incomplete.

If Yang Hao had won, Saan would fall, his technique overcome, proving Yang Hao’s miracle.

As the aftershocks lingered, the divine races looked skyward—only to see Saan standing unharmed, his six silver-lined wings now pure black.

Yang Hao, however, was a charred wreck, plummeting lifelessly to the ground. Divine senses detected flames still raging within him—soon, he would burn to ashes.

**”He lost,”** Cadis growled. **”Loss means death. He is no savior.”**

Yun Shang’s face twitched, but he couldn’t argue. The facts were clear. Yang Hao had failed the trial—he was not the chosen one.

Yet then—

**”He won.”**

Saan’s icy voice cut through the silence.

**”Won?”** Cadis roared in disbelief. Yang Hao was near death, Saan unscathed—how was this victory?

But then, the dragon fell silent.

A single feather drifted down from the sky—**black at first**, then fading to gray, then white, finally landing as a **shimmering silver plume**.

A feather from the Dark Angel King’s wing.

**Gasps erupted.**

An angel’s feathers were part of their wings—their power. For one to fall meant Yang Hao had, in some way, **triumphed**. His flames could have torn Saan’s wings, yet only a feather was lost.

This didn’t mean Yang Hao surpassed Saan, but it proved the Great Radiance Technique hadn’t destroyed him—instead, it had **tempered him**, completing his first fusion of light and darkness.

Though Yang Hao lay broken, his life ebbing in flames, he had **endured the trial**.

Still, none moved to save him—stunned into inaction, they watched as his life dwindled.

Then—**a breeze**.

Moisture-laden wind swept in, blue raindrops falling upon Yang Hao, seeping into his skin, quenching the flames within.

A stranger approached—a man in his thirties with snow-white hair, an air of roguish charm. Kneeling beside Yang Hao, his stern face softened with warmth.

Yang Hao stirred, forcing open scorched eyelids. Upon seeing the stranger, tears welled.

**”Master…”** he whispered, before collapsing once more.

The stranger smiled, lifting Yang Hao gently. Ignoring the stunned onlookers, he strode away, cradling his disciple like a treasure reclaimed.

Silence, silence replaced breathing and froze time. The world seemed to be still, only Yang Hao’s vitality dripping away, burning drop by drop. Perhaps in just a few more flicks of a finger, he would be gone.

But the divine beings still did not move; they were like statues.

At this moment, a breeze blew from the side. Within this breeze, there was a dampness, and when the wind touched Yang Hao’s body, from the wind cluster fell droplets of blue rain.

These raindrops were extremely peculiar; when they landed on a person’s body, they actually seeped into the skin and transformed into a cool breath, quickly extinguishing the true fire within Yang Hao’s body.

With the raindrops and the wind cluster, a stranger slowly approached. This stranger had never been seen before. Judging by his age, he was no more than thirty, yet his hair was already completely white, hanging loosely on his shoulders. His expression was solemn as he walked toward Yang Hao. Although he showed no expression, there was always a strange, sinister aura at the corner of his mouth, as if he were carefree and unbound by convention.

As he approached Yang Hao, a trace of tenderness appeared on his face, as if he were seeing his own child. The stranger waved his hand, and the wind cluster and raindrops simultaneously dissipated.

In this coolness, Yang Hao struggled to wake up. He forced open his eyelids, scorched by the fierce flames. The first thing he saw was this stranger he had never met before.

Yet, for some inexplicable reason, a warm current suddenly surged in Yang Hao’s heart. This current entered his eyes and turned into tears. He trembled, his lips quivering as he called out, “Master…”

Then, he fainted again.

The stranger’s lips curled into a smile, a particularly warm one. He picked up Yang Hao’s weakened body, held his head high, and without caring about the divine beings still in shock around him, walked away toward the distance on his own.