Supreme!
These two words struck Shi Hao deeply, tightening his heartstrings. He yearned to break through to that realm every moment, but he knew that his current cultivation speed was already heaven-defying. Reaching the Supreme realm couldn’t be achieved overnight.
He still needed tempering—after all, he was only in his twenties, yet he had already reached the Dunyi Realm. This shattered all myths and legends, making him a legend that shook the past and dazzled the present!
To go even further seemed almost illusory.
But as long as there was hope, he would try, willing to charge forward and rise in the shortest time possible.
Time wouldn’t wait for him—he had to seize the moment and break through!
Perhaps there were young Supremes in the Immortal Domain, but in this lower realm, in this desolate land, achieving the Supreme position was truly arduous.
From ancient times to the present, the number of Supremes across the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths could be counted on one’s fingers!
“Master, do you really want to become a Supreme? How old are you? I’ve heard that even the youngest Supreme in history was much older than you. Isn’t there a saying—’To be called a Supreme or an Ancestor is the domain of the old-timers’?” Chi Long remarked.
“Have you been spending too much time with those two old geezers? Why are you so naggy?” Shi Hao cut him off before he could continue.
The Void God Realm was tranquil, its inhabitants unaware that powerful beings from the upper realm had descended.
Led by Chi Long, they quickly arrived at their destination.
“Hmm, this is interesting,” Shi Hao mused, genuinely surprised.
This area was extraordinary—walking through the swamp, the world was dim, shrouded in rolling mist.
The stench of decay filled the air. Though this was the Void God Realm, the sensory experience was indistinguishable from the real world.
The muddy terrain was nauseating, the sights revolting.
Because this place was far from ordinary—within the swamp were pools of water, each tinged with a sinister crimson hue. It was blood.
Amid the muck lay rotting skulls, severed limbs still clinging to sinews of flesh.
Squelch!
As Chi Long stepped forward, a few eyeballs oozed from the sludge, reeking of decay.
“Honestly, where has all your cultivation gone? Can’t even walk properly?” Shi Hao scolded.
He never held back with this disciple—criticism came freely, though occasionally tempered with a few sweet rewards.
“This place suppresses cultivation. I can’t use lightness techniques, so of course I sink,” Chi Long retorted indignantly.
But when he turned back, he froze. Shi Hao moved with ethereal grace, stepping atop the muck without soiling a single thread. His shoes and socks remained pristine, untouched by filth.
“How?!” Chi Long had tried everything but failed, certain that this space nullified all techniques, reducing all beings to mere mortals.
Yet here was his master, completely unaffected.
“You… how did you do that?” Chi Long was baffled, though he noticed Shi Hao couldn’t fly—only hover slightly.
“Fwoosh!”
Light flickered beneath Shi Hao’s feet, a three-inch divine glow lifting him just above the ground, isolating him from the rot. Chi Long was stunned.
“This is a rare training ground, yet you don’t appreciate it. If you can hover even an inch, you’d dominate your peers,” Shi Hao said solemnly.
He spoke earnestly, recognizing the extraordinary nature of this place. Only by channeling all one’s cultivation could one resist its oppressive force, refining both body and soul.
“Swish! Swish! Swish!”
Chi Long watched as sword energy erupted from Shi Hao’s body, slashing at him harmlessly.
“This was a battlefield of Supremes. These bones belong to fallen powerhouses. Some beings waged peak spiritual battles here, leaving this ruin. For us, it’s the perfect training ground,” Shi Hao lectured.
Chi Long wanted to argue but couldn’t, silently channeling his energy to resist.
Finally, he managed to hover just under an inch, sweating profusely from the strain.
“See the gap? You’re two levels below me,” Shi Hao gloated, utterly shameless.
This wasn’t how a master should act—more like a braggart. Chi Long glared, exasperated.
In truth, Shi Hao looked youthful, his face still boyish despite his age, making his smugness all the more infuriating.
“Master, I heard you were quite the dignified figure during the Border War. Why are you so insufferable now?” Chi Long jabbed.
“Thud!”
Shi Hao kicked him flying. “Focus on training. This place reveals one’s true level. Where do you stand?”
According to Shi Hao, only those who could hover above the filth had surpassed the extreme, marking them as prodigies.
“Are you praising me or yourself?” Chi Long rolled his eyes.
After all, Shi Hao hovered three inches high—two levels beyond him.
At their destination, the air was thick with bloody mist. The swamp was crimson—was it mud or congealed blood? Impossible to tell, only adding to the discomfort.
Chi Long was drenched in sweat, struggling to endure the pressure.
“Don’t push yourself,” Shi Hao patted his shoulder.
“Plop!”
The pat sent Chi Long sinking into the bloody mire. Furious, he glared at his shameless master.
Soon, Shi Hao spotted familiar figures in the mist, groping blindly for an exit.
“They’re lost. The old men said once you enter, you can’t find your way out. Master, dare you try?” Chi Long taunted.
“Whoosh!”
The next moment, Chi Long learned the meaning of “hoist with one’s own petard.” Shi Hao grabbed his neck and hurled him in.
“SPLAT!”
“OOF!”
Chi Long crashed into the bloody swamp, colliding with someone.
“Brat! Who raised you?!” A furious man raised his hand to strike.
But Chi Long was angrier. With a roar, he snapped the man’s arm and pummeled him into the mud.
Outside the mist, Shi Hao watched gleefully. The man was a sect elder from the Three Thousand Provinces—now thoroughly humiliated.
“Are the Immortal Palace’s people here? If I see them, I’ll stew them alive!” Shi Hao scanned the area.
Soon, he spotted a familiar figure—should he call her Yue Chan or Qing Yi? Clad in snow-white robes, she wandered lost in the mist.
“Hey, beauty! This is a robbery!” Shi Hao called out cheerfully.
“Who’s there?”
Whether Qing Yi or Yue Chan, she was now a fusion of both. Alert, she searched for the source of the voice.
“You’ve got no treasures, only looks. Guess I’ll take that!” Shi Hao laughed, reaching out to grab her.
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