Three divine rainbows emerged in the cosmos, stretching from beyond the realms like bridges connecting the Three Thousand Provinces.
Then, they expanded, merging from the tangible void into the spirit realm!
…
Many were astonished, watching this spectacle. What change was this?
Rootless rainbows—no one could see their origin, for they had flown in, their starting point unseen.
Like ripples on water or a gentle breeze, at first, no change was noticeable.
“Disaster!”
On that very day, in an ancient land, an old man jolted awake, trembling as he stood up, gazing into the distance.
He was Cao Yuzheng’s master, one who spent most of his time in slumber, detached from worldly affairs.
Yet, today, he had been startled awake.
“Master, what’s wrong?”
Cao Yuzheng happened to be there, having returned for a rare visit. Seeing his master in such a state, he was shocked.
“The heavens and earth are shifting—a great calamity approaches!” the old man sighed.
His body was frail, as if a gust of wind could topple him. Once, Cao Yuzheng had believed his master to be invincible, but later, he learned that his master’s combat prowess had long faded.
Perhaps the old man’s only remaining strength lay in his spiritual insight—his ability to divine fragments of fate.
Yet, some visions of the future could not be spoken, nor acted upon, rendering them useless. Before he could fully reveal the truth, he would turn to ashes.
His current state was the result of repeatedly defying the heavens’ secrets.
Of course, it was also tied to a battle long past—one that had left his body broken.
“You asked me about your friend, Shi Hao. I cannot divine his fate. Do not ask again—if you wish for me to live another two years, speak no more of him.”
With those words, the old man began climbing a mountain, slow and laborious, his face etched with worry as he gazed into the distance.
“Boy, when I die, burn my body to ashes and scatter them in the rivers and seas. Do not bury me!” the old man instructed.
“Master, what do you mean? Don’t scare me like this…” Cao Yuzheng paled, sensing his master was preparing for the end. Was his time truly so near?
“Just do as I say. When the day comes, use the alchemical flame I left for you. Ordinary fire won’t suffice,” the old man said.
Cao Yuzheng grew even more uneasy. “Master, even if the worst happens, why must your body be burned away?”
“Because I fear my corpse may awaken—turning into something neither of us would recognize,” the old man replied. “I have lived long enough. I do not wish to become something else in death.”
“So, if your body remains, it would still be you, but your consciousness… gone?” Cao Yuzheng asked.
“Perhaps.”
“Master, who were you? Why such despair?” Cao Yuzheng had always wanted to ask but never dared before.
“Once, I was a mighty warrior of the Black Tortoise Clan. I have lived too long, made too many mistakes, and carry too many regrets,” the old man confessed.
Cao Yuzheng’s jaw dropped. He recalled an event—during the battle at the Great Scarlet Heaven’s border, a tortoise shell had been used to select opponents. It was said to be a divination artifact from the Nine Heavens.
Moreover, at the end of the Immortal Ancient Era, Immortal Kings and Undying Kings had also used that very shell to choose their adversaries—a moment recorded in history.
“That shell was mine,” the old man said.
Cao Yuzheng was stunned. His master’s origins were far grander than he had imagined. That tortoise shell had been renowned since the Immortal Ancient Era—and its original owner still lived.
“Master, do not blame yourself. Using the Immortal Tortoise Shell to select opponents for the Immortal Kings was not your fault. The beings of the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths simply could not match the enemies of the Foreign Realm.”
The old man sighed but said nothing more.
“Master, what troubles you? What danger approaches?” Cao Yuzheng pressed. His master’s behavior today was too strange—revealing secrets he had long kept hidden.
“My flesh is ruined, bound by the laws of countless enemies. I have no strength left, only my spirit remains strong. I have long guarded a passage, and now, it stirs. Darkness will seep through. I must go.”
He turned to Cao Yuzheng. “If I do not return within three years, burn my body with the alchemical flame I left. No other fire can destroy it.”
With a *shing*, a radiant light burst from his crown—a shimmering Black Tortoise—streaking into the distance.
“If the Dark Epoch begins because of this, then this era will end.” These were his master’s final words before his soul vanished into the horizon.
At the same time, in one of the Three Thousand Provinces, nine dragons pulled an ancient coffin into view, wreathed in chaos and immortal flames, glowing brilliantly.
It had been missing for so long—Shi Hao had searched endlessly but found nothing.
Today, it had returned.
*Shing! Shing! Shing!*
From within the coffin, luminous figures emerged—humanoid, beasts, and divine birds—all trembling before flying in unison toward a distant destination, leaving the bronze coffin behind.
“Fellow Daoists, wait for me!” Cao Yuzheng’s master called from behind.
“You departed before me, now mere remnants of souls, driven by law to seal that path. Today, I join you!”
Had Shi Hao been present, he might have recognized some of these figures—or at least found them familiar.
Years ago, he had witnessed over a dozen figures emerging from the dragon-pulled coffin, charging toward the Borderlands.
Now, they had returned—the same figures, including the Great Scarlet Heaven Lord and the Azure Yu Heaven Lord, once mighty sect leaders of the previous era.
They had all ascended to immortality, and the greatest among them had even become Immortal Kings!
Clearly, after leaving the coffin years ago to defend the Borderlands, they had returned—and now, they moved once more, resolute in their final departure.
“Fellow Daoist, let us rest together,” Cao Yuzheng’s master said.
…
In the Void God Realm, Shi Hao remained unaware of these events, engrossed in battle with the Stone Fetus, fighting with fervor, bathing in blood as he grasped new insights.
The benefits here were immense—his foundation grew firmer, his Dao fruits richer, all in preparation for the day he would soar to the heavens.
Later, he ventured into the prison, clashing with the hands and claws of creatures emerging from earthen jars, staining the battlefield with blood.
Days later, Shi Hao returned gravely wounded, withdrawing from the realm. Though perilous, the gains in enlightenment far outweighed the injuries.
He believed this was the forging of a Supreme Foundation—without such trials of life and death, how could he break through the Dunyi Realm and stand unrivaled?
Every Supreme’s rise demanded countless battles, until none could oppose them.
A Supreme’s foundation was built precisely this way—slowly, steadily.
After leaving the Void God Realm, Shi Hao spent days recovering. His spirit had grown tougher, his will stronger.
“Truly, the Supreme Path is thus—the more you endure, the mightier you become!”
Shi Hao was determined to walk this road. He had only just begun, yet already felt the truth of the legends.
Instead of returning to the Void God Realm, he traveled to the Heavenly Domain within the Eight Regions, seeking the master of the Forbidden Zone.
The ruins remained, desolate as ever.
From afar, he spotted the pristine yet fractured skull—belonging to the Forbidden Zone’s master. Even one so mighty had met his end.
Soon, the scenery shifted—a cosmic lake appeared, its surface like sapphire, with a thatched hut on its shore.
“You’ve come,” a man in white robes, elegant and refined, sat smiling.
“Senior, I seek divine techniques—ones that rival the Kun Peng Treasure Art,” Shi Hao requested.
Though the Forbidden Zone’s master had once refused to teach him past techniques, urging him to forge his own path, Shi Hao could not resist asking again.
“Your reason?”
“I do not seek reliance on their power, but substitutes for techniques I can no longer wield,” Shi Hao explained plainly, detailing his current struggles.
“Something feels amiss. Even the Immortal Realm is dispatching warriors to seal certain places across the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths. I fear the Dark Epoch is beginning. I wish to see certain places one last time.”
But everyone knew Shi Hao had been crippled. If he used his old techniques, he would be recognized instantly.
“Tell me of the outside world,” the Forbidden Zone’s master said.
“I only learned from an Immortal Realm warrior…” Shi Hao recounted all he knew.
“So chaos truly approaches. Is the Darkness awakening?” The master frowned, then nodded. “Very well.”
But first, Shi Hao was thrown into an ancient hall, where the Curse-Severing Immortal Torment wracked his body, bringing him to the brink of death.
“Survive this curse, or all is for naught,” the master said coldly.
Three days later, Shi Hao emerged, barely alive but unbroken.
“What do you wish to learn?” the master asked.
Shi Hao pondered. In the Lower Realm, he had mastered the Grass Sword Art and the True Phoenix Treasure Art—enough to dominate the world.
But in the Upper Realm, many believed him to be the Chaos Monkey. To maintain his disguise, he needed that lineage’s techniques.
“You choose well. I happen to possess the Chaos Monkey’s legacy,” the master said.
He explained that the lineage was fearsome, renowned even in the Immortal Realm. Few in number, yet none dared provoke them.
Shi Hao had heard tales—a single Chaos Monkey had once nearly overturned the Immortal Realm.
“Their most famed art is the Eight-Nine Heavenly Skill,” the master said.
“In truth, the Vermilion Bird, Chaos Monkey, and others share ancestry. Beyond the Seventy-Two Transformations, the Eight-Nine Heavenly Skill shakes the cosmos.”
“I will learn it!” Shi Hao’s eyes blazed with determination.
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