Shi Ziling and his wife had aged, but their cultivation was not weak, and after being tempered by Shi Hao’s blood, they were still in good condition.
Yet, when they looked at Stone Village now, they couldn’t help but feel sorrow. The warm villagers they once knew were all gone—it was the end of an era.
Though the village now had many descendants, they regarded the couple with reverence, a stark contrast to the first generation.
“Let’s go to the Upper Realm,” Shi Hao suggested to his parents, hoping to spare them the melancholy of lingering memories.
By now, the Great Red Bird, the Azure-Scaled Eagle clan, and even the Heavenly Horse, Little White, had long ascended to the Upper Realm—let alone Mu Qing, Zhu Lin, and the Emperor Butterfly.
“I, too, am growing old. My best years are behind me,” Yun Xi murmured softly.
“You won’t age,” Shi Hao turned to her, gazing at the woman who had walked beside him all this way.
He had never imagined that in this life, it would be her who stayed by his side—descending with him when he was crippled, fulfilling filial duties for him over the centuries while he secluded himself in cultivation and enlightenment.
“A woman’s most beautiful years, her prime… I’m about to lose them, truly fade away.” Yun Xi’s eyes reddened, and she finally wept.
She knew that one day, she would depart, withering away in the passage of time, while Shi Hao remained untouched by age. She would leave him many years before, her hair turning white.
Especially today, watching Shi Hao bid farewell to Da Zhuang, Er Meng, and the others, her sorrow deepened.
“I want a child. So that when my beauty fades, when my hair turns white, he won’t reject me. He’ll stay by my side,” Yun Xi said, tears glistening in her eyes as she looked at Shi Hao.
She was truly afraid—afraid of time’s cruelty, afraid of leaving Shi Hao, yet unwilling for him to witness her slow decay. One day, her beauty would vanish entirely, replaced by white hair and wrinkles, while Shi Hao might just be reaching the pinnacle of his life.
She was terrified.
Because she didn’t want to lose him. All these years, she had devoted herself wholeheartedly, without regret.
“No matter how you change, I will never leave you. Don’t dwell on it, don’t grieve!” Shi Hao embraced her.
For so long, they had spent more time apart than together, as he dedicated most of his years to cultivation. Though they were partners, their shared moments were scarce.
In the years that followed, Shi Hao made more time for those around him. He, too, feared sudden losses.
Yet, two centuries passed, and Yun Xi remained childless. Still, she grew more lighthearted.
Perhaps she had come to terms with certain thoughts—watching the clouds drift, the flowers bloom and fade, the rain patter on plantain leaves—her heart found peace. She had no regrets in this life.
But when she turned two thousand five hundred years old, one morning, she sighed softly before the mirror, spotting a single white hair amidst her dark tresses—glaringly out of place.
She knew then—her most beautiful era had truly passed. She was beginning to age.
Shi Hao sensed her sorrow and approached, stroking her long hair. His fingertips glowed, and in an instant, that white strand shimmered, its snowy hue fading, restored to brilliance.
“I’m growing old,” Yun Xi whispered.
“You won’t. I’ve found a lead—the divine flower that preserves youth. I’ll retrieve it for you.”
Yet, Shi Hao also carried regret. After all these years, Yun Xi had never conceived. The child she longed for had never come.
He had examined them both carefully—there were no issues.
The only explanation was his own overwhelming cultivation. At his level, siring offspring was exceedingly rare.
This had always been a dilemma for cultivators. How many descendants did Immortal Kings leave behind in their long lives? Most bloodlines were established before ascension.
Shi Hao’s current strength surpassed even his former peak as a Supreme Being. He couldn’t even define his own power now.
Yet, he remained in the mortal realm, showing no signs of ascension.
Perhaps it was precisely because he was too strong that offspring seemed impossible.
That day, Shi Hao departed, venturing into a perilous ruin—one where even Supremes of old might have perished.
But to him, it was as flat as open ground. Once he pinpointed the location, he strode through unhindered, all dangers meaningless before him.
Not only was he now a peerless formation master, but his Dao attainment was terrifyingly profound.
Soon, he returned with a flower—radiant as dawn, brimming with vitality—and presented it to Yun Xi.
“For you. It’s called ‘Morning Radiance.’ It will preserve your youth, no matter how many years pass. Your beauty will remain unchanged, frozen in its prime.”
He gave it to her and personally refined its essence into medicine.
Yun Xi laughed through her tears. What more could she regret? Though she knew this only preserved her appearance, not her mortality, she cared most about leaving Shi Hao with her best self. Even if death came, she would face it fearlessly.
Her only fear was Shi Hao seeing her aged.
“I’m so happy!” Her smile was radiant.
Half a year later, joyous news made Yun Xi rise in excitement. Overwhelmed with joy, she told Shi Hao at once.
“We’re going to have a child?” Shi Hao was equally stunned.
The news of Shi Hao’s heir sent tremors through Heavenly Court, bringing immense joy to many.
His lack of descendants had been not just his own regret but a shared concern among his followers, who longed for him to pass on his legacy.
With his profound Dao and peerless bloodline, his child would surely possess unparalleled talent—the only hope to sustain Heavenly Court in the ruthless march of time.
Over the years, even Mu Qing and Shi Zhong had descendants. Shi Hao’s late fatherhood was, in a way, “greatness achieved in maturity.”
Yun Xi was overjoyed, glowing with maternal radiance every day, though the child’s birth was still far off.
Days later, the heavens trembled. A terrifying aura descended from the sky, accompanied by cascading immortal light, nearly drowning Heavenly Court’s grand palace, threatening to reduce it to dust.
Many trembled in fear, their bodies on the verge of bursting under the immortal pressure.
With a cold snort, Shi Hao turned, his sleeve sweeping out like a storm—a tempest of Dao and law that scattered the immortal aura completely.
“Heh, Huang, it’s been a while.”
A voice laughed from the heavens. A man stepped down from the void, his appearance flawless, seemingly no older than his twenties.
His face was perfection, suffused with immortal grace yet carrying a sinister air.
In his palm rested a small bronze hall, no larger than a fist, from which threads of immortal energy seeped. He gazed down at Heavenly Court, at Shi Hao, descending step by step.
“Crippled Immortal,” Shi Hao said coldly.
“My foundation is restored, my cultivation flawless. I am now a true Immortal,” the eerie young man declared.
He was the Crippled Immortal of Immortal Palace!
Recovered for a millennium, he had bided his time, tempering himself until he was certain of his perfection before seeking Shi Hao.
“Heh…” He chuckled idly, looking down at Shi Hao, then at Yun Xi. “I heard you’re expecting. I came to congratulate you. Perhaps a divine seed, an immortal heir? I’ve come to claim it!”
With a sudden strike, his hand shot toward Yun Xi’s abdomen. “I’ll take it now!”
Heavenly Court erupted in fury at his cruelty.
“Scram!”
Shi Hao’s sleeve expanded, manifesting a hazy world—the Cosmic Sleeve, a technique of immense power.
“Huang, today I’ve come to send off your family of three, so you may be reunited forever—on the road to death!”
The founder of Immortal Palace spoke with icy malice, his timing deliberate, his intent venomous.
Boom!
Shi Hao charged forth, fearless.
Between them, endless ripples of Dao erupted, so terrifying that Shi Hao forced the battle into the outer realms to spare the world below.
The spectacle stunned all witnesses, especially Chi Long and the others, left speechless.
“Master… can he fight an Immortal?!”
This defied all reason. Shi Hao was not an Immortal—was he slaying one against the natural order?
The world watched in shock.
All powerhouses observed in secret. This was nothing short of a miracle.
To slay an Immortal without being one—this would be etched into the annals of cultivation history.
“Die!” roared the Immortal Palace expert, the bronze hall above him expanding, showering him in immortal energy, shielding him completely.
The true Immortal raged, his hatred for Shi Hao driving him to kill first, then destroy his unborn child.
Yet, to his shock, his foe was monstrously strong, his Dao unfathomably high. How could a non-Immortal rival him?
Clang!
Even more shocking—Shi Hao didn’t wield the Great Luo Sword. Bare-handed, he struck the bronze hall atop the Immortal’s head with a resounding blow.
“Perish now!”
The Immortal went berserk, channeling the hall’s power, attacking madly to crush Shi Hao.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The unthinkable happened—Shi Hao advanced, not retreating. His golden palms, infused with boundless divine might, struck the hall again and again.
Boom!
Finally, the hall was sent flying, bearing palm prints and cracks!
“Impossible!” the Immortal screamed, face twisted in horror.
Someone was slaying an Immortal against the natural order!
What realm was this? What level? He couldn’t comprehend Shi Hao!
Shi Hao’s blood energy surged, his aura peerless, shrouded in divine light like an emperor striding the mortal world.
“Die!”
With a shout, Shi Hao punched, his blood energy churning, chaos swirling, annihilating the starfield.
With the bronze hall gone, the Immortal’s near-invincible defense vanished. He could only clash head-on.
Splat!
In the end, he coughed blood, outmatched by the younger man.
Their battle shook the cosmos.
“Ah—!” The Immortal screamed as a golden hand closed around him.
“Die!” Shi Hao’s voice was final.
With a sickening crunch, his grip tightened—blood erupted, immortal essence spraying three thousand feet high!
“No!” The Immortal wailed in his final moments.
All resistance was futile. The hand clenched, and his body exploded, his soul shattered.
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